Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

16. Goutham

May 9th, Quebec City, Canada,

The evening sun, a fiery orb, cast its final, shimmering light across the glass facade of the GSK Pharma building, an international pharmaceutical giant. 

Below, a warm breeze stirred, causing old, dried leaves to flutter from the trees even as new shoots emerged, a poignant image of life and decay.

Gautam stepped out into this scene. He adjusted his bag, slipped his iPhone into his pocket, and shed his suit jacket, folding it neatly into his bag as he prepared for his journey home. As he did so, he was met by a familiar face—Evelyn, the dynamic boss of the market promotion wing and the wife of his managing director.



Evelyn, a native of Canada, had married Alfredo Hedge, Gautam's MD, after building her own career. Once at Gautam’s level, she had risen through the ranks to become a formidable unit boss. Despite having two children and a married daughter, her captivating beauty and sharp wit continued to turn heads, especially among the younger men in their marketing division. And Gautam, like the rest, found himself drawn into her orbit, a silent admirer of her grace and power.



ఽఽMemories aren't always sweet, nor are they always bitter. But some are etched into our minds like an indelible tattoo. They leave an impact on us, however small it may be.

My mind drifted back to Gandhi Street in Karimnagar, to a time when a few sparse hairs were just beginning to sprout on my upper lip. Our family's finances were precarious, and to help, I spent my mornings delivering milk packets to six houses in our lane before heading to our small grocery store.

The last stop on my route was Manjula Aunty's house. She was a woman who commanded attention—tall, with a warm, dusky complexion, a curvaceous figure, and a provocative beauty that made the boys in our lane pause and stare. At that age, my senses were just awakening, and every morning, I found myself captivated by her. The sight of her walking past our store would stir a new and confusing awareness within me.

One morning, the sun was just beginning to cast a golden light over the street as I handed Manjula Aunty her milk packet. Unexpectedly, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into her house. I was startled, but my fear quickly dissipated as she wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. A strange sensation, a zing of something new and electric, shot through me. My heart hammered against my ribs as her hand took a firm grip on mine. The tenderness of her touch ignited a deep, unfamiliar desire.

She held my face and showered me with kisses, then guided my left hand to her right boob. "Squeeze me, Gautham," she commanded, her voice a low whisper. My adolescent desire surged, and my small hands tightened around her firm, ample boobs. In that moment, something shifted within me. The boy I had been was gone, replaced by a nascent man. She laid on top of me as I kneaded and squeezed her. Then, she pushed me gently onto the bed and pulled down my shorts. My crazy dick, in a state of shock, stood at attention. She lifted her skirt, and with a surprising move, climbed on top of me.

The pain and pleasure intertwined, a scream of agony and ecstasy escaping my lips. She stopped, her body still, and simply rubbed her thighs against me. It was my first experience, but it wasn't the last.

I don't know where her husband went at that hour, but she would innocently coax me inside, and I would, without question, surrender. This continued for two months—five times, ten times, twenty-three times. It became a habit. I was her pussy slave, a role I filled with a strange mix of eagerness and innocence. Sometimes, I would wait outside her house at night, and if her husband was absent, she would call me in.

One night, I went to her house and saw another man there. It wasn't her husband, but someone else. A pang of something—jealousy, betrayal—shot through me, and I turned and went home. The next day, I wanted to ask her about it when I delivered her milk, but I stopped myself. It felt wrong to bring it up in front of her husband.

Three days later, she took my hand and led me inside. As she began to take off my shirt, I stopped her.

"Aunty, who was that man who came that night?" I asked, the question tumbling out before I could stop it.

"Did you see him?" she asked, a coolness in her voice.

"Yes."

"So now what? Will you tell my husband?"

"No, I won't," I said, a tremble in my voice. "But I didn't like him being there."

A mocking smile touched her lips. "Gautham, you shouldn't talk back. You shouldn't tell anyone about this. Anyway, you don't do things properly. I just called you because you were available."

Her words were a slap across the face, shattering the fantasy I had built in my mind. All this time, I had believed she wanted me, that she saw me as special. The reality was a bitter pill to swallow.

"Move, I have to go," I said, my voice flat. I went home, my body feeling heavy and my spirit crushed.

The experience with Manjula Aunty never truly left me. It just took on a different form. 

Years later, that form was Evelyn—my boss. She was over forty, but with a beauty that rivaled a Hollywood actress, and a hidden craving for older women still made me shiver whenever I saw her. Her presence caused me to lose my footing, my mind replaying the past in an endless loop.

When I told Geetha about a villa, Evelyn’s private house, suggested I could stay there with her. The idea sparked my curiosity. I wanted to see it for myself, and I decided to meet Evelyn to ask her about it.

I ran into her, a feeling of anticipation bubbling up within me, a sense that my past and present were about to collide once again.ఽఽ





He stopped the moment he saw her silver eyes.

“Hey Gautam, where are you going?” Evelyn asked, her smile as welcoming as the morning sun.

“I was actually looking for you, Mrs. Hedge,” Gautam replied.

“Oh, really? I was looking for you too,” she said, shaking his hand. 

“Gautam, do you know how good your presentation was? I wanted to tell you right then and there, but I didn’t want the staff to think I was giving you special treatment.”

“Oh, thanks, Mrs. Hedge.”

“Come on, Gautam, how many times have I told you, just call me Evelyn,” she said playfully, patting his shoulder.

“No, ma’am… you’re older than me.”

“Oh, you!” she laughed. “Right, I showed you the photos of the villa, didn’t I? I’m going there now, want to come? You can take a look.”

Gautam agreed, since she had asked what he was about to ask. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Hedge, it’s fine.”

Evelyn took out her phone and made a call. A moment later, a car pulled up, and the driver got out to open the back door. Evelyn, however, closed it again.

“He will drive. You can leave,” she told the driver, who simply said “welcome” and left.

Turning back, she said, “Come, Gautam, you drive.”

Gautam froze. Why had she sent the driver away? Why was she telling him to drive? Would it just be the two of them? And he hadn’t even told Mr. Hedge, the M.D., about this yet.

 “I’ll go and tell the M.D.”

But Evelyn took his hand, led him to the driver’s seat, and made him sit. “It’s okay… Let’s go.”

In her eyes, a mischievous light flickered, making Gautam’s heart question everything. She went around the car and sat in the front passenger seat.

Inside the tinted sedan, they were invisible to the outside world. Evelyn reclined her seat and leaned back as Gautam started the engine and the car moved.

ఽఽWhen I was in Dubai, I didn't like it there for some reason. The work was too much. I didn't like the work environment, especially with the shipments. Two months ago, I got a response email from Mrs. Hedge. I had an online video conference interview with her. Based on my experience, I prepared a planning report that Mr. Hedge liked, so I moved here.

When I first arrived, it was naturally difficult to get used to the cold weather, but I somehow managed. Even now, out of my few acquaintances, two are from our country. The other three are different. My other good acquaintance is with Evelyn.

As my boss, she is the one who carries all my presentations. I can say that in a short time, she formed a good opinion of me. She often helps me with my work. During our free time here, she would spend time talking with me.

I have my own selfish reason. Her beauty. Since I'm currently living alone here, my friendship with Evelyn kept me from getting bored.

She used to ask a lot about Geetha, and Evelyn was also very fond of our country's traditions. One day, I showed her a photo of Geetha. She praised Geetha a lot. She even said she wanted to talk to Geetha when she comes here. She laughed and said she would learn how to wear a saree from Geetha.

We talked about many things like this. She also told me that she has watched some English-dubbed Telugu movies.ఽఽ


The car reached the region of La Croche, crossing the village on the riverbank and entering a forest. After seeing a small arrow sign pointing to the right, they turned and passed a wooden shed, arriving at a villa with gray tiles and brick walls.

They both got out. Gautam looked around, listening to the sparrows and watching Evelyn’s scarf sway in the cold wind. As darkness settled, only the villa was clearly visible, with stars beginning to dot the sky above it and the trees swaying in the wind.

“Come, Gautam,” Evelyn said, walking ahead.

He followed her, past a few small trees and a lizard hiding from them, up the stairs, and into the villa. As Evelyn turned on the lights, Gautam stood there, taking it all in.

“Let’s go, I’ll show you what it’s like here,” she said.

“Hmm…” he murmured, following her from the living room to the dining hall and the open kitchen. They stepped onto the north-facing balcony, where they stood listening to the sound of the river flowing fifty feet away.

“When did your Geetha say she’s coming?” Evelyn asked.

“I asked her to come next week.”

“Are you planning to show her around here?”

“Yeah… I’m thinking of it.”

“Let’s go, I’ll show you the bedroom.”

They went inside and walked toward the southeast. “There are three bedrooms. The north bedroom also has a balcony.”

Gautam was mostly quiet, his eyes wide as he took in the luxurious house. Everything looked carefully chosen. They saw the second, slightly smaller bedroom. In another, a guitar and painting supplies made him think of Bharat.

Back in the living room, Evelyn came up behind him and helped him take off his suit jacket, letting it slide off his shoulders. “Sit down, Gautam…”

He sat on the couch.

“One minute, I’ll be right back.”

Gautam walked around, touching a porcelain Buddha statue. As he did, the bedroom door next to it opened. Evelyn came out in a brown long robe with a loose belt, revealing the lingerie she was wearing underneath. 

Gautam assumed such clothes were normal here.

She opened a cupboard. “Whiskey, wine? Gautam?”

“Oh, no… I don’t want any,” he said shyly.

“Come on, Gautam, easy, okay. Tell me.”

With a slight smile, he looked at her. “Wine is okay.”

Evelyn poured two glasses, and they sat down, talking about their company as they slowly sipped their wine. She poured them a second glass, and the conversation shifted from professional to personal.

“My Geetha drank the other day,” Gautam said.

“So she doesn’t drink?”

“Oh, no, that’s not allowed for us, ma’am. It’s very rare. It’s a bit different in our South India.”

“Hmm… I only see it in movies, but I always wanted to visit India, Gautam.”

“Ha… you should.”

“Your Indian boys look handsome.”

“Our people there say Hollywood guys are models… haha…”

Evelyn got up from her stool and came close to him. She took a sip from her glass and looked at him, her eyes intoxicating. “You too,” she said, twisting her finger around his tie.

Feeling flustered, Gautam looked at her. “Thanks, Mrs. Hedge,” he said quietly.

She gripped his tie in her fist and pulled. “I said call me just Evelyn,” she said arrogantly.

“I can’t…” he said, taking another sip.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes…”

“I might get jealous of your wife.”

Gautam stared, stunned.

In Evelyn’s mind, Gautam was a determined man, focused on his work and respectful to everyone. A friendship had formed between them over the past month. At over forty years old, she had no happiness with her husband and had spent years taking care of her children. Now she wanted to escape the headaches of work. It was natural for her to desire a man like Gautam. She had no doubt that her husband couldn’t give her what she wanted.

“Will you be with your wife every day when you go back to India?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

“Man, she is lucky to have you…”

“Ma’am, can you give me some space?”

Before he could finish, she sealed his lips with hers. 

For a moment, he stopped in surprise.

“Oh, God… you got me, Mr. Gautam…”

He quickly pushed her back. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hedge, I have to go…” As he got up to take his suit, she pushed him back onto the couch. She untied her robe and stood there, revealing her white lingerie. When Gautam tried to stand again, she climbed onto him, sitting on his thighs on the sofa.

Gautam couldn’t believe it. Evelyn’s desire for him, and her actions, were making him hot. She pulled his tie, loosening it.

“Ma’am, you’re drunk. Excuse me.”

“You are very manly. Show me that.”

Could a man who had been in a foreign country for two months, away from his wife and alone, resist when a beautiful woman presented him with such an opportunity? 

Gautam’s face wanted it, but his mind said no. Competing with himself, he tried to push her away, but his hand grabbed her waist. It was as soft as a cushion of flowers, crushed in his rough hand.

“Ah…” she moaned, showing the turmoil within her. “I brought you here for this. Understand.”

“No, ma’am… we can’t do this.”

She hugged him and pressed his face into her chest. He couldn’t help but surrender to the softness of his boss’s boobs, so far away from Geetha’s beauty. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He pressed his lips to her neck, biting her white skin to turn it red, letting out all the lust that had been suppressed for so long.

She lifted her head and screamed, “Aahh…”

‘Why is this happening? The very thing I didn’t want to happen has come back in a new form.’

He suddenly pulled her robe and threw it aside. She kissed his neck, rubbed her cheek against his, and kissed his mustache with her spit. Both were breathing heavily.
“I want a good fuck, Gautam…”

And could he give it to her?

 He bent down, pushed her bra cup down, and kissed the mound of her breast. When he kissed her throbbing nipple, she pressed his head to her chest. “Oh…ss.”

As Gautam chewed on her fire, she undid bra, lifted his head, and took his lips. Gautam lifted her and stood up, carrying her into the bedroom on the left. He threw Evelyn onto the bed. Taking off his shirt, he said, “You asked for it, ma’am. It’s not my fault.”

Evelyn let her panties fall to her feet. Gautam, who had not properly looked at Geetha’s flower, was excited to see his boss’s pink flower. He took off his pants and underwear and jumped on Evelyn.

“Don’t say ‘ma’am’…” she said, putting his hand on her butt.

Gautam kneaded it like dough. 

“Hit me, hit me…”

He slapped her butt. He began to rub his erect small member against her pussy.

“Is… fuck, fuck,” she moaned, and with that, he plunged his member into her vagina.

“Oohs…” she gasped, wrapping her thighs around his.

Gautam started to fuck. 

“Fuck…”

He hit her butt with his hand and her pussy with his cock. “Aah… that’s good.”

“I’m not the boss, treat me like a bitch…”

With that, Gautam’s thighs tightened and his rhythm stopped. He hid his face in her neck. “I’m sorry, Evelyn… I can’t… give you a good fuck…” he collapsed.

Evelyn, however, had a small smile and caressed Gautam’s head, leaning him against her happily. “Tell me one thing, can you go for another round?”

He kissed her neck. “I’ll try…”

ొ


Forty minutes later, “Aah, fuck… yes… slow, slow…”

“Shut up…”

“Aah… slowly aah… fuck yeah…”

ొ


At two in the morning, he bent Evelyn over and asked, “Won’t your husband get suspicious?”

“You’re the second one. Got it?” she replied.

He grabbed her hair and plunged his cock into her pussy.

“Aah… fuck… I’ll count how many seconds you last.”

He slapped her on the butt. “Count away…” He pounded her butt with his cock. Evelyn’s hands were pinned down in the mattress, and her butt cheeks and Gautam’s thighs made a “thap, thap” sound.

“The count is increasing, master…”

He fucked her for three minutes with “thap thap” sounds and then collapsed.

ఽఽIt was Manjula who first showed me what it was like for the average guy. For most men, a glance at a young girl or a middle-aged woman with a shapely figure was enough to stir something inside them. But I was different. My gaze never fell on girls. From the beginning, my eyes were drawn to married women. This was my truth, my mind conditioned in a way I couldn’t understand—at least, not until I saw Geetha.

The moment our paths crossed, I was lost. Geetha's presence didn't just alter my perspective; it changed the very core of who I was. Her words, so gentle and kind, filled a void I hadn’t known existed within me. To be honest, maybe it was her soft curves that first drew me in. Her figure was a little plump, and it was a comfort I didn't know I craved. I’d only ever been with Manjula, and I could barely call that an experience.

Like any man, I was filled with fantasies about the beautiful woman who had become my wife. Geetha spoke with a humility and shyness that were so lovely I couldn't resist.

 I was reckless, a fool in my haste. I rushed things without ever knowing her intentions.

 The heights of my imagination were matched by the depths of my disappointment. 

Geetha’s beauty had made me so restless that it was all over too fast.

Her eyes were closed, and I was grateful. I suspected that if they were open, I would have seen her disappointment reflected in them, and that thought alone was enough to make me break out in a sweat. I told myself it was just a one-time thing, but a month after our wedding, nothing had changed. The self-loathing I felt was unbearable.

A part of me felt some relief when I started my job. I used my earnings to buy her everything I had planned. Geetha never asked for a thing. When we went shopping, she would only buy the saree I chose for her. When I brought home groceries, she would only cook the vegetables I liked. I would tell her my preferences, and she would simply nod, never sharing her own. It was as if she had no desires of her own, or that my preferences were her own. Maybe it was our age difference that made me so bossy; I don’t know.

But then, something shifted. Every day, when I returned from work, I would find her bathed and radiant, sparkling like a golden doll. She wouldn't ask for anything, but she would shyly wrap her arms around me. It took three or four days of this happening for it to finally sink in: my wife's desire was growing. She didn't know how to ask for what she wanted, so she would get ready and embrace me with such love, hoping I would understand.

One evening, about three months before I was scheduled to leave for Dubai, I came home to her waiting for me. She hugged me and then kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back, tired as I was, and at that moment, she spoke. It was a soft, playful request, something she had never done before.

“Darling,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody. “I’m lonely here by myself. Shouldn't there be three of us?”

As her husband, how could I deny her? I kissed her rose lips, and we went to the bedroom. We made love, and it was that day that I understood a terrible truth: my lovemaking was not enough for her. As beautiful as Geetha was, her passion for sex was even greater.

Two months passed. Geetha, hopeful, bought a pregnancy test, but it came back negative. She was sad for two days, but by the third, she was herself again, never once looking at me with anything but pure love. It was then that I got the job offer from Dubai.

The truth was, it wasn't just the job offer. It wasn’t that she didn't get pregnant. It was a test I had taken on my own, out of suspicion, that had revealed the problem: the issue was with me.

I didn't know what to do. If I stayed with her, I would never be able to give her what she truly wanted. My heart was broken, and I couldn't bring myself to tell her about my shortcoming. I don't know why, but as a man, I just couldn’t say the words. I was a coward, unable to even tell my own wife the truth about myself.

The Dubai job became my escape, a way to flee from the truth and my own turmoil. I didn't want to leave my wife and my country. But I reasoned that a husband who can't provide sexual pleasure is no different whether he is next to you or in the next town.

I gave my darling a kiss on the forehead, said “take care,” and ran. 

I was a coward who surrendered to the circumstances. 

“Forgive me, Geetha,” I wanted to say, but I didn't even have the courage to say those simple words.
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To be continued……..