Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

 


Bharath stood behind Geetha, two juicy mangoes clutched in his hands. The air was thick with the scent of ripe fruit and the faint trace of soap as he gently rubbed it across her back. Geetha’s eyes fluttered shut, her hands rising to shield her face in a shy gesture, her body still under his touch.

“What is this madness you’re up to?” she murmured, her voice a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

Bharath didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned forward, his tongue grazing the juice that had dripped onto her forehead. His lips descended, finding her waist, where the mango pulp had smeared across her skin. He pressed his mouth to her, tasting the sweet, sticky essence with deliberate care.

“I told you, not a word,” he said softly, his voice low and reverent. “This is my anointing of my goddess.”

Geetha’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, stop it! I’m no goddess. Who anoints like this? Stop…” Her protest was half-hearted, her tone wavering between exasperation and a reluctant thrill.

“Uh-uh, I won’t stop,” Bharath teased, his hands sliding lower, tracing her curves where the fruit juice had left its mark. His fingers pressed into her soft, plump form, savoring the feel of her beneath his touch. Geetha gasped, her movement jostling the table, her body swaying as she let out a playful, “Eww… you dog!”

Bharath’s lips found her shoulders, his tongue lapping at the mango essence that clung to her skin. “Ummm,” he hummed, “your body is so sweet.”

“Hey, you idiot, stop!” Geetha protested, though her voice betrayed a tremor of delight. “You’re making my whole body sticky.”

“It’s fine, miss,” he replied with a grin, “I’m cleaning it, aren’t I?” His mouth moved lower, gliding over her arms, which seemed to him like delicate sculptures carved from milk fudge. 

Each lick sent a shiver through Geetha’s frame, her skin tingling with a strange, weightless sensation. Every kiss burned, igniting a warmth that spread through her core.

Bharath’s tongue traced upward, lingering as he pressed it against her right nipple, cleaning away a stray smear of mango pulp. Geetha let out a soft, involuntary, “Ahh…” Her body arched instinctively, offering herself to his touch as desire hummed low in her throat.

“My favorite things about my goddess,” Bharath murmured, his voice thick with adoration.

Geetha swatted his cheek lightly, her shyness resurfacing. “Stop with those words,” she chided, though her tone lacked conviction.

His lips curved into a smile against her soft boob, tasting the juice that clung to the edges of his lips. 

Geetha’s resistance faltered, her fingers tightening in his hair as she swayed, her body responding to each kiss like a bell ringing softly in the quiet. 

Bharath’s tongue caressed her bust, savoring the mingling of mango and her skin, before his lips traveled downward. He bit gently at her creamy navel, sucking as if drawing nectar from jasmine blooms. 

The sensation sent waves of desire crashing through Geetha, her body trembling as she pressed his face closer, urging him on.

“Mmm… hurry up, please,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “It feels… weird.”

“Am I bothering you, miss?” Bharath asked, his tone teasing yet tender.

“Of course you are,” she shot back, though her words carried no real bite, “with you and your crazy acts.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, though the mischief in his eyes suggested otherwise.

“Hmm,” Geetha replied, her voice a quiet surrender to the moment, her body caught in the dance of his touch and the strange, intoxicating warmth that enveloped her.


Geetha’s eyes remained tightly shut, her breath shallow, as fear and anticipation wrestled within her. She couldn’t bring herself to look, afraid of what she might feel witnessing Bharath’s tongue tracing an affectionate path across her skin. 

His lips began their descent, moving from the curve of her waist to the soft expanse of her thighs. He paused at her calves, where the sticky remnants of a mango pit had left their mark, and licked them with deliberate care before grazing his teeth against her skin.

“Sss… Don’t bite,” Geetha whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of protest and surrender.

“I have to, miss,” Bharath replied, his tone low and teasing, a playful edge cutting through the heat of the moment.

He continued, undeterred, his tongue gliding to the tender hollows beneath her buttocks, igniting sensations she hadn’t known existed. The sheer audacity of it all overwhelmed her—no one could have imagined such reckless abandon. Each kiss drew a new response from her, her body yielding to the pleasure that coursed through her, pulling her deeper into the moment. Bharath’s teeth grazed her buttocks, treating them like warm, freshly baked bread, and she instinctively reached back, her hand fumbling to stop him.

“Ah, no…” she gasped, her voice barely audible.

“Kaa… n… umm… Abba,” Bharath murmured, his words muffled against her skin as he squeezed her curves, his lips racing along the base of her spine. He rose, pressing himself against her, his hardness nestling between her ass plumps, hidden in the warmth of her body.

Geetha twisted, her hands finding his head, pulling him closer as his tongue found the sensitive spot below her ear. His embrace enveloped her, and the heat of him pressed against her, sparking a fire that spread to the delicate folds between her thighs. She turned her neck, still refusing to open her eyes. “Hey, that’s enough,” she said, her voice a fragile plea.

“What, miss… I still want more,” Bharath teased, his fingers tracing patterns in the sticky juice on her waist before his lips found her neck again.

“Hmm… enough… I’m going to take a bath,” Geetha insisted, her resolve wavering.

“I’m giving you a bath, aren’t I?” he said with a grin, his hand brushing her navel, slick with his saliva.

“That’s what I said… enough,” she repeated, firmer this time, though her body betrayed her words.

In his arms, she turned, finally meeting his gaze, her eyes soft with affection. Bharath’s intensity mirrored her own. “Seeing you, I feel crazy and want to do so much more,” he confessed, his voice raw with desire.

“You idiot… what else will you do?” Geetha asked, a playful challenge in her tone.

“That’s what I’m thinking about…” Bharath said, a mischievous smile curling his lips.

“You seem to be planning to spend the whole night like this,” she teased, though her heart raced at the thought.

“Why just one night, miss? I want to spend days and months,” he said, his words weaving a spell that held her captive.

Geetha’s breath caught. His words always had a way of unraveling her. “That won’t happen…” she murmured, stepping back, her voice tinged with both longing and restraint.

The air between them shifted as they stood, two naked figures in the quiet room, their closeness a silent confession. Her right hand found his dick stroking, her bangles jingling softly as she played with the hardness before her. Bharath leaned in, kissing her neck, gently moving aside her mangalsutra. His hand cupped her boob, squeezing it with a tenderness that felt both possessive and reverent.

Geetha bit her lip, intoxicated, the rhythm of her bangles quickening. 

“Miss, slowly, i may leak…” Bharath whispered, his voice thick with awe.

“How did you hold it in for so long?” she asked, her words barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know, miss…” he admitted, his vulnerability disarming her.

“Goutham…” she began, then stopped, the name of her husband hanging heavy in the air. She wanted to speak, to confess the storm within her, but the words felt forbidden. Her body craved Bharath’s strength, yet the weight of her reality—her marriage, her shame—kept her silent.

“Miss, tell me, it’s okay,” Bharath urged, his voice gentle but insistent.

“Nothing…” she said, her tone heavy with unspoken sorrow.

He cupped her cheeks, lifting her face to meet his gaze. “Tell me, miss… tell me everything. Now, let’s not hide anything between us, please…”

They both understood the fragility of their bond, a connection born from unspoken weaknesses. 

The raw truth lingered between them: if a married woman desired another man, the fault often lay with the husband. 

Bharath searched her silence for answers, his eyes tracing the contours of her averted gaze.

“Miss… do you like it better with me than with Goutham sir?” he asked, the question slicing through the air like a quick blade.

Geetha’s turmoil erupted into impatience. Unable to bear the weight of his words, she slapped his cheek, the sound sharp in the quiet room. But Bharath didn’t flinch. His grip on her waist tightened, his eyes locking onto hers, demanding truth.

“Miss, tell me,” he pressed.

“It’s none of your business,” she snapped, her voice trembling with defiance.

“Then why did you want to say it?” he countered, his tone soft but unrelenting.

“No, Bharath, don’t ask,” she pleaded, her resolve crumbling.

He pulled her into his arms, silencing her hesitation, his embrace a sanctuary for their forbidden feelings. Kissing the back of her neck, he whispered, “Miss, even after I leave for college, no matter how old I get, whenever you feel you need me, call me, and I’ll come. When Goutham sir is not around, I will romance you. I will listen to your moans as I kiss you, as I hold you.”

“Hmm… shut up,” she murmured, her voice caught between protest and surrender.

“Then what will you do?” he teased.

“What should I do?” she replied, her words a quiet challenge.

Bharath hesitated, a question lingering on his lips, one he lacked the courage to ask outright. 

Why, with all that had passed between them, did this one act feel so different? 

“You can give me your lips, can’t you?” he finally asked, his voice softer now.

Geetha looked down, a shy smile breaking through her blush. “Uh-huh,” she murmured.

He squeezed her closer, his hands firm on her waist, his hardness pressing against her navel, drawing a quiet surrender from her. She kissed his bicep, her lips lingering on his skin. “I will, let go…” she whispered.

As his grip loosened, Geetha slid downward, her kisses trailing across his chest. She knelt, her hand encircling him, her eyes lifting to meet his. 

Bharath bent down, caressing her cheek, his lips brushing her forehead. “Miss, lick it,” he said, his voice a low command.

Biting her lip, she teased, “You’re corrupting me too, you dirty fellow.”

He kissed her lips, a slow, deliberate claim. “Let’s get dirty, miss,” he said, standing tall, his hips tilting forward.

Geetha’s tongue darted out, tasting the lingering sweetness of mango juice on him, treating it like a forbidden treat. 

Bharath’s breath hitched. “Ahh… more…” he urged.

She complied, her tongue tracing a slow path, drawing a shudder from him. “Hush… miss, from the bottom to the top…” he guided, his voice thick with need.

“Mmm…” Geetha responded, lost in the moment, their boundaries dissolving in the heat of their shared rebellion.

Her senses were overwhelmed, intoxicated by the primal allure that radiated from him. A soft, shameless sigh escaped her lips as she leaned closer, her tongue brushing against the taut, heated flesh. She traced a slow, deliberate path from base to tip, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in its wake.

Bharath let out a low, guttural moan, his voice a ragged whisper. “Abba… h… Mmm…”



Geetha’s small lips parted, struggling to accommodate his size as she took him in, the pulsing veins grazing the edges of her mouth. The act was both foreign and thrilling, her cheeks straining as she surrendered to the moment. The wet, rhythmic sounds of her efforts filled the air—slurp, slurp, slurp—her saliva bathing him in a frothy sheen. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the act, her passion overriding her hesitation as she devoted herself to her student’s pleasure.



“Ssss… A little more, miss, hah…” Bharath’s voice was a plea, laced with urgency.

Geetha tried to push further, but his size overwhelmed her, stealing her breath and silencing her voice. She gasped, pulling back to exhale, the intoxicating scent flooding her senses once more. 

Bharath’s hand found her hair, his fingers weaving gently through the strands as he bent down to kiss her, his lips tender against hers. “It’s okay, miss,” he murmured, his voice soft with reassurance. “Don’t worry about it.”

Geetha’s breath hitched, her voice barely a whisper. “Yours… doesn’t fit.”

He captured her upper lip in a slow, deliberate kiss, their saliva mingling as he pulled back with a faint smile. “It’s okay…”

With renewed determination, Geetha took him into her mouth again, her cheeks puffing as she worked with fervor. Bharath, unable to restrain himself, gave a small, instinctive thrust, and Geetha startled, pulling away. 

A glistening thread of saliva bridged between her lips and his flesh, droplets clinging to the corners of her mouth. She swallowed hard, her breath ragged. “Hah… Don’t do that,” she scolded, her tone sharp but wavering.

Bharath’s eyes softened with apology. “Sorry, miss.”

Geetha wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips parting as she caught her breath. Bharath’s gaze locked with hers, a silent intensity passing between them. Without breaking eye contact, he guided himself back to her lips, pushing gently into the warmth of her mouth. She took him in again, her movements reminiscent of a child savoring a treat, slow and deliberate.

“Aahh… miss, I can see heaven when you suck me,” Bharath groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

Geetha hummed in response, her head nodding as she continued, her eyes half-lidded with focus. 

Bharath’s knees trembled, his control slipping as waves of sensation coursed through him. His fingers tightened in her hair, his hips moving in a rhythm he could no longer restrain. With a sharp hiss—“Sssshh…”—his body tensed, and he surrendered to the release.

Geetha’s eyes widened in shock as the warmth flooded her mouth. 

She pulled back abruptly, coughing and bending over the table to spit out the thick semen.

 Yet, even as her mind reeled, a forbidden truth stirred within her—she had swallowed half of it, and the flavor lingered, strange and unexpectedly alluring. For the first time, she found herself savoring the taste of a man’s sperm.

Bharath dropped to his knees beside her, his voice soft with concern. “I’m sorry, miss,” he said, cradling her face and wiping the traces of his release from her lips with gentle fingers.

Geetha glared at him, her voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment. “Chee… you did it on purpose, you idiot.”

“I couldn’t hold back,” Bharath admitted, his tone earnest.

“You could have told me,” she snapped, though her indignation faltered under his gaze.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Did you like it?” he whispered, a teasing edge to his voice.

“Yuck…” Geetha muttered, but her protest lacked conviction. She melted into his embrace, settling onto his lap and burying her face in the crook of his neck. “You do crazy things… Che, you lecher,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his skin.

Bharath chuckled softly. “Forgive me, I won’t do it again.”

His softening form pressed against her, the sticky warmth of their encounter clinging to her thighs. Geetha squirmed, her tone half-exasperated. “Move, I’m going to take a bath. You’ve ruined everything.”

“I’ll clean it,” Bharath offered, his voice gentle. “You go take a bath.”

“Okay…” Geetha agreed, rising from the table. As she moved toward the bedroom, her steps hesitant and her hands shielding her thighs, Bharath’s gaze followed her. The sight of her retreating form—her curves swaying with each step—proved too much. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her close.

“Let go… what else?” Geetha protested, though her voice lacked conviction.

Bharath’s lips found the sensitive skin of her armpit, kissing the soft, sweat-dampened folds. “Will you wait for a while?” he murmured, his voice low and insistent. “I’ll come.”

“No, you’ve already done too much,” she replied, trying to wriggle free.

His kisses deepened, and he inhaled her scent, a mix of sweetness and desire. “I can’t let go,” he said, his tone reverent. “How did Goutham sir leave you like this?”

Geetha froze, her expression darkening. She turned to face him, her hands cupping his face. “Don’t bring up Goutham every time,” she said firmly, her voice laced with pain.

Bharath’s eyes softened, regret flickering in them. “If it’s wrong, I’m sorry… I just felt like saying that.”

Geetha tried to pull away, her gaze avoiding his, but Bharath’s hands caught her waist, holding her in place. Their eyes locked, and in his loving gaze, Geetha felt herself unraveling. His touch, his words, his very presence were dismantling her defenses, pulling her into a current she could no longer resist. Their desire burned beyond their control, a force that bound them together, refusing to let them part.

“Geetha miss…” Bharath’s voice was low, possessive, a hint of arrogance in his tone. “Your student is crazy about you… I won’t let you go after you come back from your bath.”

Geetha’s lips curved into a sly smile, her eyes glinting with defiance. “You crazy dog,” she teased, slipping from his grasp with a playful laugh, leaving him staring after her as she disappeared into the bedroom.