Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife
#60
Chapter 18 continued.....

The cool air conditioning of Westside vanished as Meera stepped through the automatic doors into the warm afternoon sunlight. Her body still hummed with the echoes of Arjun's touch – the brush of his hand, the memory of his elbow against her breast, her fingers on his bare bicep. Guilt warred violently with a deep, thrilling ache low in her belly. She was walking slightly ahead, focused on putting distance between herself and the dangerous intimacy, heading towards the exit.
 
Suddenly, a strong hand closed around her wrist, halting her mid-stride. The grip wasn't harsh, but firm, warm, and utterly arresting. Meera gasped, her heart lurching painfully against her ribs. She spun around, wide-eyed, to find Arjun standing close, his grey t-shirt sleeve brushing her arm, his dark eyes intense.
 
Meera: "Arjun! Kya huva?" (Arjun! What happened?) Her voice was a startled whisper, laced with confusion and a sudden, sharp thrill that shot straight down her spine. His touch on her bare wrist felt electric, sending tingles up her arm. Her pulse hammered against the pressure of his fingers. He’s touching me! Holding me! Here!
 
Arjun: "Thoda time aur rukiye, please. Bas thoda sa." (Just a little more time, please. Just a little.) His voice was low, urgent, his eyes locked onto hers, searching, begging. The intensity in his gaze made her knees feel weak.
 
Meera: "Jaana hee, Arjun. Chodna, please!" (I have to go, Arjun. Let go, please!) She tried to pull her wrist back, but his grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her anchored. The resistance, the slight struggle, sent another jolt of sensation through her, a confusing mix of fear and intense arousal. The warmth of his hand on her skin was overwhelming.
 
Arjun released her wrist instantly, his expression shifting to concern. "Sorry”
 
She cradled her wrist gently, looking down at it, then back up at him. "Dukh raha he..." (It hurts...) But her tone wasn't accusatory; it was soft, almost shy, tinged with a strange romantic sensation. His hand was so strong... holding me like that... The spot where his fingers had gripped felt sensitized, throbbing slightly. It wasn't just physical pain; it was the echo of his possession, the thrill of being stopped, claimed, however briefly.
 
"Ohhh... sorry, Chandrika..." His voice softened, full of regret now.
 
A flicker of fake anger crossed her face, her lips pressing together. She looked away, towards the mall exit. "Leaving now. Late ho gaya." (Leaving now. It's gotten late.) But her feet didn't move. The pull towards him was still there, tangled with the need to flee.
 
Arjun: "Just one coffee? Time nahee lageega." (Just one coffee? It won't take time.) He took a half-step closer, invading her space again. "Please, Meera. Bas ek cup." (Please, Meera. Just one cup.)

Meera: "Arjun, no..." she protested weakly, looking down at her feet. "Aaryan... I never leave him alone like this..." It's true... but Rajiv is there... Aaryan is fine... Do I want to go? One coffee... just a few minutes...

Meera stood silent, torn. The guilt warred fiercely with the intoxicating pull of being alone with him, away from the prying eyes of the store. His pleading eyes, the promise of a few more minutes... it was a siren song. Just coffee. What harm? Rajiv and Aaryan are fine. Just a little while longer... The thrill of the illicit meeting surged back, stronger than the guilt for a moment. She could feel the dampness returning between her thighs, a physical testament to her inner conflict.
 
Arjun: "Only 30 minutes more. Please, Meera” He leaned in slightly, his gaze unwavering.
 
Meera: "Arjun... leekin..." (Arjun... but...) She hesitated, biting her lower lip. The 'but' hung in the air, weak against the force of his plea and her own desire.
 
Arjun: "Please." He repeated, the single word heavy with meaning.
Meera took a deep, shaky breath. Decision made. She pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed Rajiv. She turned slightly away from Arjun, but he remained close, listening.
 
Meera (into phone): "Haan, Rajiv? Shopping ho gaya... Aarti ka kaam bhi ho gaya." (Yes, Rajiv? Shopping is done... Aarti's work is also done.) She forced her voice to sound casual, light. "Mein... mein thoda coffee pi kar aa rahi hoon. Bas 20-30 minute. Aaryan kaise hai? Thik hai na?" (I... I'm having a coffee and coming. Just 20-30 minutes. How is Aaryan? He's fine, right?) She listened for a moment. "Acha. Teek hai. Mein jaldi aa jaungi. Bye." She cut the call quickly before Rajiv could ask more.
 
She turned back to Arjun, a genuine, almost giddy smile lighting up her face, replacing the tension with pure, illicit happiness. She had done it. She had bought more time. For him.
 
Arjun: "Kya boola?" (What did you say?) He asked, his eyes bright with hope.
 
Meera: "Hmmm... bus ek coffee ka time mein liya... lekin jaana hee jaldi..." (Hmmm... I just took time for one coffee... but I have to leave quickly...) She couldn't hide the sparkle in her eyes, the relief and excitement warring within her.
Arjun's face broke into a wide, relieved grin. His happiness was palpable, washing over Meera, amplifying her own feelings. "Chalo," (Come on,) he said softly, gesturing towards the coffee shop nearby.
 
They walked side-by-side through the mall corridor. Meera was intensely aware of his nearness – the heat radiating from his body, the rhythm of his steps matching hers. Their hands swung slightly, and once, the back of his palm brushed against the back of hers. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a jolt through her, making her fingers curl. She kept her gaze forward, but her senses were hyper-focused on him. He’s so close... I can smell him... feel his warmth... Her skin prickled with anticipation.
 
As they approached the coffee shop entrance, Meera went first. She knew he was behind her. She knew where his gaze would be. Deliberately, subtly, she allowed her hips a little more sway as she walked through the doorway. The fluid peach chiffon moved with her, accentuating the curve of her rear, a silent offering just for him. She felt the heat of his gaze like a physical touch on her back, on her hips. A small, secret smile touched her lips. Let him look.
 
Inside, navigating between tables, Arjun gently placed his hand on the exposed skin of her lower back to guide her towards an empty corner booth. His palm was warm, large, the contact sudden and direct on her bare skin. Meera jerked slightly, a gasp catching in her throat. It felt like an electric current zipped straight from the point of contact down her spine and pooled hotly between her legs. His touch lingered for a second longer than necessary as he steered her, sending shivers across her skin and a deep, tickling sensation fluttering low in her belly. His hand... on my bare back... so warm... so possessive...
 
He pulled a chair out for her. She sat down, arranging her saree, acutely aware of his eyes on her. He sat directly opposite her in the small booth, the table narrow between them. Their eyes locked. Meera felt a wave of intense, conflicting emotions crash over her. This is it. Sitting alone with him. In public, but hidden in this corner. Like... like a date. The guilt tried to surface, but it was instantly drowned out by a powerful surge of arousal. Her body felt sensitized, alive. This was new, forbidden, thrilling. She felt a distinct heat spreading across her chest and up her neck. She looked down at her hands in her lap, then slowly lifted her gaze back to his. He was still watching her, a small, intense smile on his lips. She looked away again, then back, unable to resist the magnetic pull. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes silently asking, What? What are you thinking?
 
Arjun: "Thanks for these days, Meera." His voice was soft, sincere. "Really. For... everything."
Meera let out a small gasp, almost a pant. The exertion wasn't physical; it was the emotional and sensual toll. He means the looks, the messages, the exposure... the meeting today. She knew it wasn't easy for her to be here, crossing these lines, but the intense thrill coursing through her mind and body was overpowering the last remnants of guilt. She felt flushed, her core tight with arousal.
 
Meera: "Sab chhodo..." (Leave all that...) She waved a dismissive hand, trying to sound casual, but her voice was breathy. "Coffee order karte hain. Jaldi jaana hai." (Let's order coffee. Have to leave soon.)
 
Arjun raised his arm, catching the attention of a passing server. "Bhaiya? Menu?" (Brother? Menu?) The server nodded and hurried off.
 
Arjun (turning back to Meera): "But really... thanks, Chandrika." He used the intimate name deliberately.
 
A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Achha tho Chandrika waapas aaya?" (Oh, so Chandrika is back?) She tilted her head, challenging him playfully.
 
Arjun: "Chandrika kahin gaya nahi, Meera." (Chandrika didn't go anywhere.) His eyes held hers intensely for a moment, then seemed to focus on something distant, thoughtful. He looked lost in memory.
 
Meera watched him, intrigued. After a few seconds, she leaned forward slightly. "Kahaan kho gaye ho? Kya hua?" (Where did you disappear? What happened?)
 
Arjun (focusing back on her instantly): " Right there... where I saw that sweet Chandrika.” His gaze was direct, heated.
 
Meera looked down immediately, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. He means my navel... yesterday... The memory was vivid, erotic. She felt exposed under his gaze, yet intensely desired.
 
Meera  made a playful, dismissive gesture with her hand, rotating it near her face as magicians do. "Bhool jao..." (Forget it...)
 
Arjun (laughing softly): "No... some memories are kept”. His tone was warm, intimate.
 
The server arrived with the menus. As Arjun shifted in his seat to take them, his knee brushed firmly against Meera's knee under the small table. The contact was solid, warm. Meera's eyes snapped up from the menu to Arjun's face, a look of fake anger flashing in them.

Meera: "Don't be naughty! Aur birthday par... tum bahut zyada ho gaye the!" (Don't be naughty! And on your birthday... you were way too much!) She referred to his intense staring and the explicit chat.
 
Arjun didn't move his knee away. He just smiled, a slow, accepting smile that acknowledged his 'naughtiness' without apology. Meera didn't pull her knee back either. She let it rest against his, the warmth and pressure sending a constant, low thrum of sensation through her leg, straight to her core. His knee... against mine... It was a small, hidden point of contact, but it felt incredibly intimate. She tried to focus on the menu, but the awareness of his leg pressed against hers was overwhelming. She felt her nipples tighten beneath her blouse.
 
They both ordered Cappuccinos. The server left. Their knees remained touching under the table. Meera could feel the slight texture of his denim against her skin through the chiffon of her saree. The pressure was constant now, a silent communication.
 
Arjun: " Now nothing is an accident, Meera.” His voice was low, meaningful. " It all started with accidents... but...” He let the sentence hang, his eyes intense.
 
Meera: "Arjun... woh baat chhodo..." (Arjun... leave that topic...) She looked down, then back up, trying to sound dismissive but failing. "Woh... birthday boy ko khush karne ke liye tha..." (That... was to make the birthday boy happy...)
 
As the words 'birthday boy' left her lips, her mind instantly connected it to what it really meant – his hardness, his arousal yesterday. The underlying sexual tension, always present, suddenly surged to the forefront. The 'boy'... the way he must have been... hard... for me.
She thought He told me... 'I am moving my hands along its length, in the thoughts of you'... He really did that. He touched himself. For me. He stroked himself... imagining me. Did he come? Did he explode? How did it feel for him? Was it as intense as it was for me? The illicit curiosity was overpowering, mixed with a deep, erotic tension. She desperately wanted to know, to share that secret, to hear him say it again.
 
She looked across the table at Arjun. The erotic tension was visible on her face – her slightly parted lips, her flushed cheeks, the intensity in her dark eyes fixed on him, the subtle way she pressed her thighs together under the table, increasing the pressure on their touching knees.
 
Arjun (with a knowing smile playing on his lips): " Yes... that boy...”
 
Meera: "Kya?" (What?) Her voice was a breathy whisper, drawn in by his reference.
 
Arjun: "Kal raat... that boy was very active.” He stated it plainly, watching her reaction.
Meera looked down immediately, the erotic tension coiling tighter within her. She could feel the dampness soaking through her panties now. Her heart hammered. He was hard... active... for me... all night?
 
Arjun: "Meera... kya hua?" (Meera... what happened?) He leaned forward slightly over the table, reducing the distance between their faces. His knee pressed more firmly against hers under the table.
 
Meera tried to compose herself, lifting her gaze to meet his, forcing a semblance of normalcy. "Kuch nahi..." (Nothing...) But her eyes betrayed her. They held a question, a desperate curiosity she couldn't voice. How active? Did you come? Did you think of me when you came? Was it good? The need to know was a physical ache.
 
Arjun: "Leekin... kuch toh hua? You seem to be thinking a lot." (But... something happened?.) He pressed gently, his eyes searching hers.
 
Meera fidgeted with the edge of her saree pallu. How to ask? It's so wrong... so intimate... but I need to know. She felt shy, embarrassed, but the eagerness, the need to share this secret, to deepen their illicit connection, was stronger. She glanced at him, then down again, biting her lip. Her knee pressed reflexively back against his, seeking the connection.
 
He shifted his position subtly, his knee pressing even more tightly against hers, creating a firmer, more deliberate contact. The pressure sent a jolt of sensation through her leg, making her gasp softly. He leaned further forward on the table, his face now much closer to hers across the small surface. "Bolo na, Chandrika... leekin kya?" (Say it, Chandrika... but what?) His voice was a low murmur, intimate, coaxing.
 
Meera looked down, her cheeks flaming. She glanced up at him through her lashes – a quick, shy, yet intensely curious look – then down again. She took a shaky breath. Her inner turmoil was visible: the slight tremble in her hands resting on the table, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her throat moved as she swallowed nervously, the intense focus she kept on their touching knees, seeking the anchor of that physical connection. She opened her mouth, closed it, fumbling for the words trapped in her throat.
 
Meera (voice barely above a whisper, trembling): "Kal... kal raath ko..." (Last... last night...)
 
Arjun (leaning back slightly in his chair, a slow smile spreading): "Hmmm... Meera kal raath ko..." (Hmmm... Meera last night...) He prompted, his eyes dark with understanding and anticipation.
 
He leaned back slightly in his chair, a knowing look on his face. "Hmmm... Meera kal raath ko..." (Hmmm... Meera last night...) He paused, letting the anticipation build. "...mein sambhaal nahee paaya." (...I couldn't control myself.) His gaze was direct, intense. "I was lost in your memory... the birthday gift you presented for me... your beautiful Chandrika... and Meera, the lace of that panty..." He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "...mein bus paagal hoo gaya, Meera. Seriously, I went mad."
 
His confession was raw, explicit. Hearing it directly, hearing the desperation in his voice, made Meera shiver to her core. A fresh surge of slick wetness soaked her panties. She pressed her thighs together tightly under the table, the movement causing her knees to grind more firmly against his, a physical manifestation of the intense sensations rocking her.
 
Arjun: "And late night mein... I was not able to control, dear." (And at night... I was not able to control, dear.)
 
The word "dear" again, spoken in that low, intimate tone in this charged context, had a profound effect. Meera's breath caught sharply. She visibly flinched, her eyes widening, then dropping quickly to the table. A deep blush spread from her neck up to her hairline. Her lips parted slightly. She swallowed hard, her throat working. Her fingers, resting on the table, trembled almost imperceptibly. She glanced up at him again, a look of shock, vulnerability, and intense arousal flashing across her face before she looked down once more. He called me 'dear'... while talking about... about losing control...
 
She glanced at him again, a mixture of shyness and intense curiosity in her eyes. He lost control... at night...
 
Meera (looking down, voice trembling, fumbling over the words): "Kaise...?" (How...?)
 
He leaned forward again, reducing the distance across the table to almost nothing. His knees pressed insistently against hers, the pressure firm and constant now. His voice dropped to a low, intimate murmur, meant only for her ears. "I imagined you, Meera... like you told me... in that grey t-shirt and white pants... lying on the bed...” As he described her imagined state, Meera visibly shivered. Her lips trembled. Her nostrils flared slightly with each quick breath. Her thighs pressed even harder together under the table, the movement causing her knees to clamp tightly onto his, holding them in a firm, intimate vise. She felt her core clench, the arousal spiking sharply. "My boy... became very hard when I saw you like that...” The explicit description of his erection sent another violent tremor through her. "...And I imagined that white cotton panty you wore yesterday... you in that” He had to lean back abruptly as the server arrived with their cappuccinos, placing the steaming cups on the table. The interruption was jarring.
Meera cleared her throat, trying to regain composure, her cheeks burning. Arjun took a quick sip from his cappuccino, clearing his own throat, his eyes never leaving her face. The air crackled.
 
Arjun: "Meera..." His voice was rough.


She took a small sip from her own cup, the heat a contrast to the heat flooding her body. She looked up at him over the rim, her eyes dark with arousal and tension.

Arjun: "I saw you... clearly... in my imagination... and you were there... like you were really there” His gaze was intense, unwavering.
Meera let out a soft gasp, a sound of pure, intensified sexual tension. Her grip tightened on the coffee cup.

Arjun: "I saw you, Meera... in those white cotton panties.” He stated it plainly, the image vivid in his mind and now forced into hers.

Meera leaned back in her chair, overwhelmed. Her arousal was at its peak. She could feel the undeniable wetness soaking through her panties, a slick heat. Her legs shifted restlessly under the table, her thighs pressing hard together, causing her knees to grind even more tightly against his. The sensual tension radiating from her was palpable – her flushed skin, her rapid breathing, the dilated pupils, the way her body seemed to hum with pent-up energy.

Arjun: "Meera..." He called her name softly, pulling her focus back.

She looked at him, her eyes wide, dark pools reflecting her heightened state.

Arjun: " But tell me...” His voice was husky, strained with his own need to know. "...Kya tumne...?" (...Did you...?) He couldn't finish the sentence, but the implication hung heavy in the air between them. Did you touch yourself too?
 
Meera didn't look at him. Her eyes focused somewhere on the table, unseeing. Her inner thoughts screamed: Yes! Yes, I did! I touched myself thinking of you! I imagined your hands, your eyes... I came for you! She wished to tell him, to share this ultimate secret, to see the happiness and arousal it would spark in his eyes. To take their forbidden connection to this new, intensely intimate level. She wanted him to know she had exploded, just like he had, lost in thoughts of him. The desire to confess was a physical pressure in her chest.
She was silent for a long moment, the only sound their breathing and the distant hum of the coffee shop. She looked at her mobile. The screen showed the time. Panic flared through the arousal. Time's up. I have to go.
Meera: "Arjun... jaana hee... time ho gaya. Abhi I have to go." (Arjun... I have to go... time's up. I have to leave now.) She started to gather herself, the movement urgent.
 
Arjun: "Boolke jao, please..." (Say it before you go, please...) He reached across the table, not touching her, but his hand hovered near hers. "Meera... boolna... to me..." (Meera... say it... to me...) His eyes pleaded. "Did you do it?”
 
Meera again diverted her eyes. She let out a soft gasp, but this one was different – deeper, laden with intense erotic feeling, a sound of surrender to the truth and the overwhelming arousal his question provoked. Her body trembled slightly. She wanted to tell him. She needed to tell him. To make him happy. To seal this secret bond.
 
She looked back at him, focusing intently on his eyes, her own filled with raw erotic tension and a sudden resolve. The shyness was still there, but it was eclipsed by the need to share this truth.
 
Meera: "Arjun...." Her voice was a husky whisper. She paused, took a deep breath. Then, slowly, deliberately, she nodded her head. Once. Her eyes never left his, confirming what the nod meant: Yes, I did it. I touched myself. I masturbated. Thinking of you.
 
The answer was crystal clear. Arjun's eyes widened slightly, then filled with a fierce, triumphant happiness. A slow, deep smile spread across his face. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his knees even more firmly against hers under the table, a silent, powerful acknowledgment of her confession and the intense intimacy it created. Meera looked back at him, her shyness mingling with the thrill of having shared her deepest secret. Her blush deepened, but she held his gaze, a small, shy smile finally touching her own lips.
Suddenly, the urgency of the time crashed back.
 
She stood up abruptly. "I really have to go now!” Arjun quickly stood up too, waving for the bill. He paid swiftly, barely glancing at the amount. They walked out of the coffee shop in a charged silence, the plastic bag with his shirt swinging from his hand.
 
Outside, near the mall exit, Arjun turned to her. " Shall I drop you home?” His voice was gentle, hopeful.
 
Meera: " No! No...” She shook her head firmly, the real world imposing its rules again. The fear of discovery was back, sharpening her focus. She pulled out her phone. "Cab book karti hoon." (I'll book a cab.)
 
She quickly booked a ride. They stood waiting near the pickup point. The air between them was thick with the unspoken intensity of the last half-hour – the confession, the shared secret. The earlier playful tension was replaced by a deeper, more resonant intimacy.
 
Arjun: "When we'll talk again?” He asked softly.
 
She looked at him, her eyes still holding a trace of the shyness and the intense connection. "Hmm... dekhte hain..." (Hmm... we'll see...) She managed a small smile. "Messages... shayad." (Messages... maybe.)
 
He smiled back, understanding. "Teek hai. Safe jaana." (Okay. Go safely.)
 
Her cab pulled up. She gave him one last look, a mix of guilt, thrill, and the profound new intimacy they had forged. "Bye," she whispered, then quickly got into the cab. As it pulled away, she looked back through the window. He stood watching her go, the smile still on his face, the bag held loosely in his hand. The game had changed. The lines had blurred beyond recognition. The memory of his knee pressing against hers, the image of him listening to her nod, the slick wetness still cooling between her thighs – these were the tangible proof of the dangerous, thrilling path she was now irrevocably on.
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RE: The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife - by subtle - 13-08-2025, 01:51 AM



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