Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife
#84
Chapter 19 continued.....

The cool leather of the sofa stuck to the back of Meera’s thighs. The only light came from her phone screen, glowing in the dark room. It buzzed again, a hard vibration against her palm. She was deep in it now.
 
Arjun: Go Meera, just go there and be yourself.
Arjun: Meera,
Arjun: Kya huva Meera, where are you?
Arjun: Please Meera, reply me.
 
He knew she was reading. Three dots popped up. He was typing again. Her stomach tightened, a mix of fear and a sharp, hungry thrill.
 
Arjun: Meera.... where did you go, dear?
[i] [/i]
[i]He knows I’m here. He knows I’m looking at this. Should I tell him? Should I say I’m on the sofa, about to do what he’s doing? This is so fucked up. So completely fucked up. Her heart was pounding, a fast, hard beat against her ribs.[/i]
 
Arjun: Meera, say dear. Where are you now?
Her fingers were shaking. After a long pause, she typed one word.

Meera: Arjun...

Arjun: Say dear, abhi kahaan pe ho?

Meera: Am here.

Arjun: Where?
She couldn’t type it. Saying the words felt like crossing a line she could never come back from.

Arjun: Are you on the sofa, Chandrika?
The pet name, the specific guess. A cold shiver shot down her spine. He knew. He was picturing her right here.

Meera: Hmmm...
[i]He knows. He’s imagining me. Lying here on this sofa. For him. Oh my god. The thought scared her and turned her on at the same time. The idea of him looking at her, even in his head, made her pussy throb. She felt a fresh, hot wetness soak into her cotton panties.[/i]
 
Arjun: Ohh dear, Meera. You now say, dear. You too do it now.
She didn’t type back. Instead, she slowly bent her legs, pulling her knees up. The movement made her light blue nightie, already pushed up, slide down to bunch around her hips. The cool air in the room hit her bare skin, making the fine hairs on her thighs stand up. She was naked from the waist down except for her panties. She let her hands, which had been clenched at her sides, drift down. Her palms skimmed over the skin of her thighs. It felt smooth, a little cold. She slid her hands higher, toward the heat between her legs. Her fingers traced the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, and the touch sent a jolt straight to her aching pussy.
 
New messages lit up the screen.
Arjun: Chandrika, boolo, are you touching?
She didn’t answer with words. Her middle finger moved on its own, dipping lower. It brushed over the damp cotton of her panties, right over her pussy lips underneath. The fabric was already wet, a dark spot spreading where her juice had leaked through. The light pressure felt electric. Her eyes closed. Her head fell back against the sofa arm. Her lips parted, and she bit down softly on her lower lip. Through the wet cotton, she could feel the puffy shape of her outer lips, swollen and sensitive.
 
She pressed the heel of her hand harder against herself. A low, soft moan slipped out of her mouth as the pressure sent waves of pleasure through her. Her legs spread wider by themselves, giving her hand more room.

Arjun: Meera, please say to me dear.
Struggling, she kept one hand pressing against her panties and typed with the other.

Meera: Arjun....

Arjun: Yes, my Meera... say it.
[i]He wants me to say it. To admit what I’m doing. Out loud. The pressure of her hand got more intense, a steady rhythm over her clit through the soaked fabric. She moaned again, louder this time. The sound surprised her in the quiet room.[/i]

Arjun: Meera... can I call you? Please dear....
Panic hit her. A call? His actual voice? That was too much. Too real.

Meera: No, Arjun, I can’t. Please don’t ask for that.

Arjun: Ok, Chandrika. But tell me, what are you doing?
Her hand moved again, pressing, making little circles. The cotton was completely wet now, stuck to her skin, showing the outline of everything. She let out another moan, tilting her head to the side, her neck arching.

Arjun: Please, dear. He needs to know it. The boy is so hard to know it.
[i]His boy… his penis..... hard… for me. The picture in her head got clearer. Him, lying on his bed. His pants down. His cock in his hand. It would be thick, the skin tight and smooth, a dark red color. The head would be wet, a drop of pre-cum beading at the tip. His fingers would be wrapped around the base, his knuckles white from gripping so hard. He’d be stroking it, slow then fast, his fist moving up and down the shaft. Thinking of her. Of her on this sofa. The thought made her hips jerk up off the sofa. A fresh gush of wetness coated her fingers through her panties.[/i]
 
Arjun: Meera, dear, say it.
Shaking with tension and need, she typed.

Meera: Arjun, what are you doing?

Arjun: Ohh my dear, yaaa... he is now so hard for you, dear. I am lying without my clothes, thinking of you. My hand is pressing on it, imagining you there, Meera. I need to cum for you, dear.
 
The picture in her head got even more detailed. She saw his whole naked body, not just his dick. The dark hair on his chest, leading down his stomach. The muscles in his arms flexing as he jerked off. His nipples, small and dark, hard from the cool air. He was completely naked and hard for her.

Arjun: Meera, what are you wearing, dear?
[i]He needs to know. He wants to picture me. She looked down at herself. Her nightie was bunched at her waist. The front buttons had come partly undone from her moving, showing the deep crack between her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard little points, rubbing against the soft cotton of the nightie with every small movement, sending little shocks through her.[/i]

Arjun: Say, dear.

Meera: (With struggle) Nighty.
Arjun: And inside?
Her eyes dropped to her panties. The plain white cotton. The wet patch. The clear outline of her pussy underneath.

Arjun: Please say, Meera. Let me imagine you, dear. You laying on that sofa. I wish to imagine you, dear.

Meera: Arjun..

Arjun: Say, please. Tell me.

Meera: Yes.
Her hesitation was melting, replaced by a desperate need for him to know.

Arjun: Kya yes, Meera?

Meera: Yes, Arjun, am wearing it.

Arjun: Kya, Meera? Boolo na clearly, please. For me.. for him.

Meera: Arjun... please..

Arjun: Meera, come on, please. I wish to imagine you, dear.

Meera: Arjun, haaan, am wearing a panty.
She’d said it. It was out there. She pressed her pussy harder, a groan coming out of her mouth as the pleasure built.

Arjun: Ohhh dear... Meera. I seriously wish to hear you now, please... let me call you, my Chandrika.
Fear spiked again.

Meera: No, Arjun, please. Rajiv is in the other room. Don't ask me, please.

Arjun: Put an earphone, Meera. I just want to hear your whisper, baby.
[i]Baby. The word sent another thrill through her. Her eyes scanned the dark room and landed on a tangled pair of earphones on the side table. Her hands shaking badly, her heart pounding so hard she felt dizzy, she reached for them. She fumbled, plugging them into the phone, her movements clumsy.[/i]
 
Arjun: Are you there, Meera?

Meera: Yes, Arjun.

Arjun: Wish to call you, dear. Hear your voice. Wish your presence when I cum for you.
[i]Hear his voice… hear him groan… hear him cum… for me. The idea was terrifyingly intimate. She imagined the sounds—low, grunting groans, his breath catching, his voice breaking when he said her name as he came.[/i]

Arjun: Put the earphones, Meera. Let me call you. Say something, dear.
With one last shaky breath, she gave in.

Meera: Han, Arjun.
The call came through instantly. The ringtone was loud in her ears. She waited, frozen, through two rings, then three. On the fourth, she swiped to answer.
 
"Chandrika..." His voice was a low, rough whisper, thick with want. It went straight into her ear, a hot touch that made her gasp.
 
She didn’t speak. She just breathed, the sound loud and shaky in her own ears. She knew the microphone would pick it up.
[i]What the fuck am I doing? This is so wrong. Rajiv is right there! But her body was on fire, her fingers still pressing against her wet panties.[/i]
 
Again, his voice, softer. "Meera, say something, dear."
She let out a gasp, a heavy, breathy sound. Then another. Her voice, when it came, was a broken whisper. "Aaarjun.."
 
Arjun’s raspy voice came back fast, full of raw hunger. "Ohh, dear... I am on cloud nine after hearing you, dear." She heard his own heavy breathing on the other end. "You should see, Meera, how hard I am for you... in your thoughts."
 
Her mind showed her the picture again, clearer than ever. Him, naked on his back. The hard lines of his stomach, the trail of hair down to his thick, veiny cock. His hand wrapped around it, stroking. The head, swollen and dark, popping out of his fist with each upward stroke. The muscles in his forearm tight from the effort.
 
"Ohh," a choked sound escaped Meera, a mix of shock and intense turn-on.
 
"Meera, I am doing it, dear... Where is your hand, Meera?"
 
Her free hand, the one not holding the phone, finally slipped inside the waistband of her panties. Her fingers brushed through her pubic hair, then lower, to the smooth, slick, swollen lips of her pussy, soaked with her own wetness. The second her fingers touched her bare skin, a soft, shaking moan got out. "Shhhh..." It was quiet, but she knew he heard it.
Arjun’s voice came back, strained. "Ohh, Meera, are you touching for me, dear?"
She didn’t answer, but her breathing got heavier, more ragged, telling him everything.
 
"Say it, baby. I know where your hands are now. But express it to me, dear." His voice was so raspy, so full of need, it broke her completely.
 
She couldn’t form words. Her fingers explored further, pushing deeper into her panties. Her middle finger found the slit of her pussy, already open and slick. She pressed there and vibrated her fingers slightly. Another, louder gasp and moan was torn from her mouth.
[i]He can hear me. He can hear how wet I am. How much I need this. Her finger found her clit, hard and incredibly sensitive. The feeling was almost too much. Her hips bucked off the sofa. The inside of her thighs were slick with her juice, her pubic area a mess of wetness and feeling.[/i]
 
"Ohh, Meera, I can now imagine you, dear," his voice was shaking now, matching the tremors in her own body. "Your fingers touching your wetness. I wish I was there right now."
Meera closed her eyes, picturing him. Naked. Hard. Stroking himself fast. For her.

"Meera... aaah... speak to me, dear.. tell me, Meera, are you touching, dear?"
 
"Haaan," she breathed out in a weak voice, followed by a sharp, shuddering inhale.
 
"Aaahh," his hungry sound came from the other side. "Meeraaa...."

He said her name again. "Haaa aan," Meera responded with a broken gasp.
 
Her middle finger started to slowly spread her pussy lips apart. The heat was intense. The wetness was everywhere. Her swollen lips were super sensitive. Her body shook with a small climax already, her nipples hard with pleasure. "Ahhhh, Meera," his voice was ragged, "I feel your soft breast touching my elbow today. I feel the softness of it, dear..."
 
"Ohhhhh," Meera whispered, another soft moan escaping as her finger found her hole.
 
"And I now see your hands, baby.. Ohhh..." Meera could clearly hear his voice shaking from jerking off. "Touch for me, Meera."
 
"Haaaan," her voice was stumbling but louder this time.
 
Arjun’s voice was desperate. "Are you, Meera? Are you touching, dear? Say it."
 
She pushed her finger inside her pussy. [i]He’s picturing this. Picturing me touching myself, me in these panties, my naked pussy… Her finger slid into the hot, slippery, tight wetness. A low, grunting moan “aaahhhh” vibrated in her throat, clear for him to hear.[/i]
 
"Say, baby, say it to me. Are you touching there, dear?"
 
She couldn’t hold back anymore. "Haaaaaa," a broken, stumbling, desperate voice came out.
"Ohhh, Meera, is your finger inside your pussy now?" He was asking directly, his own voice ragged.
 
She had to answer. "Hmmmm," the quiet confirmation came out between ragged breaths.
 
"Ohh, baby," Arjun’s voice was pure lust. "Are you wet for me, dear?"
 
She wanted him to know. She needed him to know. "Say na.. please. Imagine how hard I am for you. Imagine the way I am stroking it for you, Meera."
 
She closed her eyes. She dragged her fingers through the thick wetness coating her outer lips. She imagined him. [i]He’s stroking… fast… for me. Her middle finger found her hole again – unbelievably hot, tight, wet. She shoved two fingers inside herself, deep, feeling her inner walls clamp down on them. Her hips jerked wildly up off the sofa. Her breath came in sharp, fast pants.[/i]
 
"Are you wet, Meera?" Arjun needed to hear it.
 
"Hmmmm..." her voice was clearer now, more desperate. "Aaahhh!" a soft moan came out on its own as she pulled her fingers out, covered in her slick.
 
Arjun heard it. "Ohh, Meera, touch it hard for me. I am stroking myself in your thoughts, dear."
 
She rubbed her wet fingers hard against her clit, stroking the sensitive nub. Her breathing was too heavy, too loud.
 
"Meera, I can hear you, dear. I can hear your voice for me." She tilted her head to the side, lost in the feeling. Her other hand grabbed her breast hard through her nightie, her fingers digging into the soft flesh, pinching the hard nipple through the fabric.
 
"Ohhh, Meeraaaa..... Aahhhh..." his voice was breaking too. She could hear him clearly now—the wet sounds of his stroking, his ragged breathing, the creak of his bed.
 
Her fingers pushed back inside her slippery pussy, deep, curling hard. She pulled them out and rubbed her clit roughly. Pleasure shot through her, sharp and intense. "Sshshhhsss!" a sharp, loud moan ripped from her mouth.
 
Arjun, hearing this, clearly sped up. "Ohhh, dea... I am seeing you in my imagination, dear.... I see your fingers deep inside your wetness. Ohhh, Meeraaaa... Aaahhh, aahhh..." His sounds were broken, matching the rhythm of his strokes.
Her hips bucked wildly, out of control, against her own hand. Her phone slipped from her sweaty hand onto the sofa, but the earphones stayed in. Her back arched off the sofa, her breasts heaving, her trapped hand kneading her breast and pinching her nipple hard. "Ohhh, aaahhh!" moans escaped her mouth, one after another.
 
She could hear him now, clearly, shaking his dick hard, the sounds wet and frantic. "Ohhhh, Meeraaa, Aaahh...." She imagined it—his hips pumping into his fist. His fingers moving up and down the hard length, the skin sliding, the slick head appearing and disappearing. Each stroke was for her.
 
She could hear his shaky, desperate sounds, his loud moans of her name. "Meera... ah... Meera..."
 
She shoved three fingers into her dripping pussy, fucking herself with them deeply, the sound wet and dirty. "Sssshshhhhsss...." her loud moan filled the room as she gasped for air. Her head thrashed side to side. She could feel her wetness dripping down her inner thighs.
 
"Aaahhhhhh, Meeraaa,,,, aaaaah, cum with me, dear... Meeraa...."
 
"Aaahhhhh!" Meera moaned loudly, the sound coming from deep inside. "Aahhhhh...." She kept fingering herself wildly, spreading her legs as wide as they would go, her knees falling open. "Ssshhhhh, aaaaaahhhhhh..." Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips in a perfect 'O', her chin trembling. Her other hand was a claw on her breast, pressing and pinching hard.
 
"Aaahhh, Meeraaa, cum for me, dear... aaahhhh," his stroking sounds got more violent, she could clearly hear him fucking his fist, fast and desperate. "Aaaaaahhhh, aaaahhhh, meeraaaaa..."
 
"Ssshhhhhh, ooooaaaa!" Meera let out a loud, guttural moan, her body bowing off the sofa. Everything focused on the sensations wrecking her. Her lips trembled and gasped for air; her eyes rolled back under closed lids; her throat worked, making continuous, low moans; her fingers pistoned in and out of her soaked pussy and rubbed her clit in frantic circles; her hips churned and bucked against her hand; her thighs shook violently; her hair stuck to her sweaty face and neck.
 
She exploded. Her body shook with violent, uncontrollable spasms. "Ssshhhhh, hhhhhhhh, aahahhhh... SSsss, hhhhhhhhh, ammmmmm!" Her voice was full of raw, primal need, a continuous, broken sound of release. The muscles of her pussy clenched and unclenched around her fingers in hard, rhythmic pulses. Her juice gushed out, hot and copious, covering her hand, her thighs, her panties, and the leather sofa under her. Her vision went white. Her head thrashed. Her legs kicked out once, then went limp, splayed open. Her arms dropped to her sides, heavy and useless. The pounding of her heart was all she could hear besides his ragged breathing in her ears.
 
She could hear Arjun’s groaning, final sounds on the other end. "Aaaaaaahhhh, Meeraaaaaaa, am going to cum for you, dear..... ooohhhhh, dear... Meeraaa..... oohhhh, ooaaaa, oooohhhhh, ohhh, aaahhh..."
 
She imagined his cock pulsing in his hand, thick ropes of his cum shooting out, landing on his stomach, for her. Because of her.
 
Heavy, tired breathing came from both sides.

"Ohhhhh, Meeraaaa......" his voice was wrecked. "Tell me, did you? Did you come, dear?"
Meera didn’t answer. Her breath was still fast and heavy, her chest rising and falling. Her fingers, still inside her panties, moved weakly, touching her swollen, oversensitive lips, smearing her own wetness.
[i] [/i]
[i]No. This isn’t real. How did I do this? Her mind finally went to the other room, where her husband and son were sleeping. The guilt crashed down, cold and horrible.[/i]
 
"Meera, tell me, baby, please," Arjun’s voice came again, soft now, satisfied.
 
Her fingers still brushed over her naked, wet pussy. She couldn’t speak, but her breathing was too high and loud for him to not know she’d came.
 
"Meera, I haven't cum this hard in my life, dear.. it was... Meera, so.. "
 
She cut him off, her words slurred and thick. "Am am... ssorry. Need t-to go." She didn’t wait for a reply. She hung up, the sudden silence in her ears overwhelming.
 
She pulled her hand out of her panties, staring at her fingers, shiny with her own wetness in the dim light. With shaking legs, a deep, cold guilt in her gut, and the smell of sex thick in the air, she slowly, unsteadily, got up from the sofa. She pulled down her nightie, the damp fabric clinging to her skin. She walked on trembling legs back toward her bedroom, toward her sleeping husband and son, each step feeling like a mile, the sound of her own moans and his voice stuck in her head. She had crossed a line, and there was no going back.
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RE: The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife - by subtle - 30-08-2025, 05:00 PM



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