Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife

[subtle]

Chapter 20: The Repent

The morning light was too bright and harsh. Meera moved around the kitchen like she was half asleep. Her hands made coffee and toast but her mind was stuck on last night. She felt sick with guilt. It was a heavy, solid feeling in her gut.


Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again. The dark living room. The blue light from her phone screen. She remembered the way her own fingers had moved between her legs, fast and desperate. She could still hear the sounds. Her own low moans. And then Arjun’s voice, rough and close in her ear, groaning as he came. A shiver went through her, part disgust, part a deep, shameful excitement. Sometimes, while she was washing a cup or getting her son’s cereal, a small smile would start to form on her mouth as she remembered the feeling of her own orgasm. Then the guilt would hit her and she would force it away.

She was very aware of her panties. They were the same white cotton ones from yesterday. They felt different now. The fabric was stiff and scratchy right in the center. There was a dried, crusty patch on them. It was her own dried juice, and it rubbed against her skin with every step she took. It was proof of what she had done. A secret stuck to her body.

Rajiv walked up behind her while she was staring at the kettle. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. It was a normal thing for him to do. Meera jumped away from him like his touch was fire. She spun around to face the counter, her heart beating hard and fast.

“Hey… are you okay?” He looked confused. A little hurt.

“Yes, yes,” she said, her voice too high. “It’s just… the kettle. It was going to whistle.” He touched me right there. Right on my panties. Can he feel the crust? Does he know?

“You seem far away. Bad sleep?”

“Just a headache,” she lied, rubbing her temples. “I probably didn’t drink enough water.”

“Take a pill. Aaryan, finish your toast, son. The bus is coming.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. The kiss felt like a lie on her skin.

They talked about normal things. The water bill. The broken geyser. Rajiv said he would call a mechanic. The words were simple and everyday, but they felt fake now. They were just a thin cover for her secret.

After they left, the house was very quiet. She picked up her phone. A notification was on the screen. A message from Arjun.

Arjun: (8:05 AM) Good morning Chandrika. Hope you slept well.

The casualness of it, the pet name, felt like a slap. Slept well? After what we did? She didn't reply. She didn’t write back. Her finger shook. A deep, hungry part of her wanted to type back, to feel that excitement again, to see what dirty thing he would say next. But a bigger, scared part of her yelled to stop. This is how you lose your family. It hurt in her chest. She threw the phone on the sofa like it was hot.

The dried patch on her panties was itchy now. A constant, annoying feeling that would not go away. She went into the bathroom and locked the door. Under the bright white light, she pushed her panties down her legs. She held them up and looked. There it was. A stiff, yellowish-white stain on the white cotton, right over the crotch. For one second, looking at it, a strong memory of last night’s pleasure hit her. The feeling of her own wetness soaking the fabric. The sound of his voice. The power of her climax. She felt a small throb of heat between her legs.

Then the guilt came back, cold and heavy. This is disgusting. This is wrong. She remembered the whole phone call. His words. Her whispered answers. Both of them touching themselves while her family slept in the next room. She felt sick.

She didn't even take her nightie off. She stepped right into the shower and turned the water on as hot as she could stand. She wanted to burn the memory off her skin. She wanted to wash away the feeling of him, the sound of him, the smell of her own betrayal. The wet nightie stuck to her body.

Why did I do it? The question pounded in her head. Am I that hungry for attention? No. Rajiv was a good husband. He held her. He talked to her. He fucked her regularly. It was nice. It was safe. So why? Why do I keep thinking about Arjun? What is wrong with me? She had a nice house, a good husband, a healthy son. She had everything. This is a sickness. This is greed. She made a promise to herself under the hot water: I will not do it again. I will not talk to him again. I will stop this.

She pulled the soaked nightie off and threw it on the floor. She grabbed the soap and started to scrub her skin hard. But as her hands moved over her body, the memories came back. As her soapy hands passed over her breasts, her nipples, already sensitized from the rough washing, hardened instantly. A jolt, purely physical and intensely pleasant, shot straight to her core. Her hand stilled. No. Don’t. She forced herself to move on. When she washed between her legs, her fingers brushed against her sensitive skin. A jolt of last night’s pleasure made her gasp. She pulled her hand away fast. No. She soaped her stomach and remembered his voice saying “Chandrika.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to make the thought leave. She rinsed off, but it was no use. The memories were inside her now. The sound of his groans, the way his voice broke when he came… it kept playing in her head. She got out of the shower feeling dirtier than when she got in.

The whole day was a fight. She cleaned the house like a machine. Her eyes kept going to the sofa. Then she saw it: a small, darker patch on the light brown leather where she had been lying last night. Her wetness had left a mark. Panic rushed through her. She ran to the kitchen, wet a cloth, and ran back. She scrubbed at the spot, trying to make it vanish, to erase the proof of what she did.

Her phone was quiet on the sofa. The need to pick it up, to see if he had written more, was a physical ache. She walked away. She folded clothes. She cut vegetables for dinner. She walked back into the living room. Her hand reached for the phone, then she pulled it back and made a fist. The fight inside her was tiring. She was trapped in her own house by a stupid phone.

When Rajiv came home that night, he was happy. He hugged her, and this time she made her body stay still.

“Great day at work!” he said. “That new project we did? The client loved it. The whole team did well.”

“That’s great,” she said, making her voice sound happy. The whole team. Arjun’s team.

“Yeah, Arjun especially. He did most of the work. He was brilliant.”

Hearing his name was like a shock. She turned back to the stove.

Later, after dinner and after their son was in bed, Rajiv sat on the sofa—the sofa—and looked at his phone. Meera sat in a chair across from him, pretending to read. Her heart was pounding. She saw him call a number. He put the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Arjun?… Yeah, just calling… Listen, what was wrong with you today?” Rajiv listened. “The presentation was a success! Everyone was happy… But you seemed so quiet. Is everything okay?” Rajiv was quiet, listening to something Meera could not hear. “...Just ‘nothing’? It didn’t seem like nothing… You sure? Parents are okay? Maybe you were lonely after your birthday?…” More silence. “Okay, okay… if you say so. But take care. It was a good day… Okay. Bye.”

He hung up and looked at Meera. “I don’t know. He was so upset. Just kept saying ‘it’s nothing’. Something is wrong. Maybe he was lonely on his birthday.”

Meera’s stomach twisted. She knew why Arjun was upset. It was because of her. Her silence. Her stopping after she let him hear everything last night. A weird feeling went through her—part guilt, part a dark thrill. I have that power. I can make him feel that bad.

“Maybe… maybe he will be better tomorrow,” she said, her voice weak. It felt like a betrayal to both of them.

Before bed, she could not fight it anymore. She picked up her phone. The screen was full of messages from Arjun.

Arjun: (12:17 PM) Meera?
Arjun: (12:45 PM) Chandrika, what happened?
Arjun: (1:30 PM) Are you mad at me?
Arjun: (3:05 PM) Please say something.
Arjun: (4:48 PM) I am worried.
Arjun: (5:55 PM) Meera, I am sorry if I did something wrong.
Arjun: (6:40 PM) Please just tell me you are okay.
Arjun: (8:02 PM) I feel like I ruined everything.

She was staring at the list, her feelings a mess, when she saw his status change to ‘online’. A shock went through her. She quickly locked the phone and put it down, her heart pounding.

Rajiv came up behind her then and put his arms around her. He kissed her neck. “You have been quiet all night.” His hands were warm on her stomach. He wanted to have sex.

Meera went stiff. The guilt was a sharp pain. But a part of her knew she had to do this. She had to act normal. Maybe this would wash the feeling of Arjun away. She made herself relax against him. She turned her head and let him kiss her. She kissed him back, slow and unsure at first.

“Mmmm, that’s better,” he said into her mouth. He kissed her deeply, his hands moving over her clothes.
This is my husband. This is real. Focus on him. But her mind was screaming Arjun’s name.

Rajiv took her hand and led her to the living room. He guided her down onto the sofa. The same sofa. The memory of last night was so strong it was like a third person in the room. Rajiv didn't notice. He took her clothes off, his moves familiar and gentle. He kissed her neck, her shoulders. He held her breasts through her bra, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

“You are so beautiful, Meera.”

He took her bra off and put his mouth on her breasts, sucking and kissing. It felt good. It always felt good. But her mind was somewhere else. 

He kissed down her stomach, his hands pulling her leggings and panties down. When his lips touched her belly button, the word Chandrika blew up in her mind. She gasped, her hips jumping. Rajiv thought it was pleasure and kept going, kissing lower.

He took his own clothes off and got on top of her. He pushed his cock into her. She wrapped her legs around him, a move she knew well. She shut her eyes tight. Rajiv moved in her with a steady, known rhythm. Be here. Be with your husband. But behind her eyelids, the image was not of Rajiv. It was of Arjun. Of his naked body as she had imagined it. His hard, thick erection, the skin smooth and taut, the head dark and slick. She pictured his hand, the way it would have moved, stroking up and down, the skin gliding over the shaft. The image was crystal clear, unbearably erotic. She could almost hear his groans again, mixing with the sound of Rajiv’s breathing above her. She turned her head to the side and her eyes opened. Her phone, on the table, glowed with a new message. She knew it was from him. A new wave of dirty excitement went through her. Her body was still wet from her husband, but this was different.

She started to move faster, pushing her hips up to meet Rajiv’s thrusts. But her mind was elsewhere her movement was not for Rajiv, but in rhythm with the memory of her own orgasm. She was remembering the sounds Arjun made when he came for her. The desperate, broken way he’d chanted her name. It was for Arjun she was getting close to coming.

“Oh, Meera… yes… it’s so good,” he groaned, surprised and happy by her sudden hunger. “Your body is amazing… so perfect for me.”

His words, for her, somehow made the fantasy stronger. She came with a choked scream, her body shaking, her mind screaming Arjun’s name. Rajiv came soon after, collapsing on top of her, tired and happy.

They lay together on the sofa, breathing hard. Rajiv kissed her shoulder. “That was amazing.” He got up to go to the bathroom.

The second he was gone, Meera looked at the phone. She could not stop herself. She reached over and unlocked it. There were more messages from Arjun.

Arjun: (9:58 PM) I am missing you.
Arjun: (10:15 PM) Please just say something.
Arjun: (10:38 PM) Tell me what I did wrong. I will fix it.

She was sitting naked on the same sofa where she had just let her husband fuck her and where she had fingered herself for another man the night before. The confusion was too much. She saw the typing indicator pop up. He was typing right now. Arousal, sharp and unwanted, prickled through her again, even though she was still wet from Rajiv. The pull was so strong it was scary. With a fight that felt like it took all her strength, she locked the phone and threw it back on the table.

Rajiv came back, smiling. “Ready for bed?”

Meera nodded, unable to talk. She followed him to the bedroom, leaving the phone behind, but the ghost of Arjun’s words followed her. She had gotten everything from her husband—a good fuck, closeness, love. But as she lay in the dark next to Rajiv, her body satisfied but her mind running wild, she knew with a cold, sick feeling that it had not been enough. A part of her was still on that sofa, waiting for Arjun’s next message, already wanting the dangerous, dirty thrill that her safe, loving marriage could never give her. The guilt was a part of her now, and it had a name. Chandrika.