Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife
#92
Chapter continued...

The next morning, Meera did not feel peace. She felt a sharp, sick feeling in her gut. She couldn't stop thinking about last night. She had had sex with her husband, Rajiv. But her mind, her passion, her whole being had been somewhere else. She had been thinking of another man, Arjun. The thought made her feel guilty and sick.


She stood in the kitchen, making tea. Her body felt slow and heavy.

What is wrong with me? she thought. I am a wife. A mother. I have a good husband. How could I do that? How could I think of him while Rajiv was on top of me, inside me? She gripped the counter hard. It is disgusting. I am disgusting. This has to stop. It has to.
She heard footsteps. She jumped. Rajiv came up behind her. His presence made her feel both safe and guilty. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She felt the whole length of his body against her back and her ass. She went stiff for a second, then forced her body to go soft.

Rajiv: “Good morning,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. He pressed his face into her neck. “You were amazing last night. Seriously. The way you… moved. The sounds you made. It was wonderful.” He kissed the spot right behind her ear.

His words felt like sharp little stabs on her skin. She had been amazing because she was imagining another man, another man’s cock. The lie of it made her want to choke.

Rajiv: “Oh, and I forgot to tell you yesterday. There’s a wedding tomorrow evening. We have to go for the dinner.” He kept holding her, his big hands spread flat on her stomach. “And about Arjun… he was so quiet yesterday. I’m really worried. Can you try to find out what’s bothering him? You’re better at these things.”

I know what’s bothering him! Meera screamed inside her head. I am the problem! I ignored him after… after we almost fucked. I pushed him away, and now he’s hurting. The knowledge was a sharp, painful twist deep in her chest. She felt responsible. And a strange, possessive ache for his pain.

Rajiv: “In fact, I was thinking… let’s have him over for dinner again tonight. I’ll make him come. You can talk to him properly then, see what’s really going on in his head.”

He’s coming here? Tonight? Her mind raced. How can I look at him? How can I sit across from him, knowing I wanted him, knowing I touched myself thinking about him? But under the panic, a dark, thrilling excitement sparked deep in her belly. She would see him. She could talk to him. Explain. Maybe see his eyes light up again for her. The thought was a powerful pull between her legs.

Without even thinking, she turned around in his arms. She looked up at his kind, concerned face and felt a confusing mix of love and shame. She leaned up and gave him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Meera: “Haan, theek hai. Main dekhungi.” (Yes, alright. I’ll see.)

Rajiv smiled, happy, and kissed her back properly on the lips before leaving for work. Meera stood frozen after he left. She felt a little relief. The decision was made. But more than relief, she felt a hot, bubbling happiness. She was going to see Arjun.

After Rajiv left, the house felt different. Lighter. She picked up her phone. Her heart was pounding. The last message from Arjun was from last night. Just her name. ‘Chandrika.’ He hadn’t been online all morning. He was still in the pain she caused. But he had reached out. A slow, real smile spread across her face. He was waiting for her.

She started to hum as she cleaned the kitchen. There was a new swing in her hips as she wiped the counters. She decided to make his favorite dessert, a special rice pudding. Each step felt like a secret message just for him.

Around 11 AM, before her bath, she checked her phone again. No new messages. A little thread of worry started in her stomach. Her phone rang. It was Rajiv.

Rajiv: “Meera? Arjun didn’t come to the office today. And he’s not picking up his phone. I’m getting a little worried now.”

Meera’s worry got bigger. “Achaa? Pata nahi kyun…” (Oh? Don’t know why…) she said, trying to sound normal.

Rajiv: “Haan. I’ll try him again later. About dinner… I’ll try my best to bring him. You prepare, okay?”

Meera: “Haan, theek hai.” (Yes, okay.) She hung up, her mind racing. Where is he? Is he so upset he skipped work? The thought was too much. She picked up her phone and typed a message.

Meera: Arjun, where are you?
She put the phone down, her heart beating hard. It buzzed right away.

Arjun: Meera, I am sorry. Please forgive me.
The message was like a relief. He wasn't mad at her; he was saying sorry! He thought he had done wrong. A huge wave of tenderness washed over her. She played along, a little smile on her face.

Meera: Kya? Chandrika nahi? (What? Not Chandrika?) Then, she added, “Rajiv was saying you are not at office and not picking up the phone. Ab theek ho ke jaldi office jao. Be a good…” She stopped before typing ‘boy’. She didn’t want to bring that up yet.

Arjun: Sure, Meera.
His simple reply made her smile wider. He was listening.

Meera: Kyaa? Chandrika ko bhool gaye ho kya? (What? Have you forgotten Chandrika?)

Arjun: A blushing emoji. That was all. It was enough. She felt pure joy. They were connected again.

Feeling light, she went for her bath. The warm water ran over her skin. She tried not to think sexy thoughts, tried to block out the feeling Arjun always caused in her body. But her eyes looked down at herself. She watched the water run over her tits. Soap bubbles stuck to one of her nipples. She watched, fascinated, as a single drop of water formed on the hard tip of her nipple. It clung there for a second, then started a slow, cool path down the curve of her breast.

His tongue… The thought hit her, hard and vivid. She imagined Arjun in the shower with her. His head would be bent down. His dark eyes would look up at her. His tongue, just the very tip of it, would dart out. It wouldn't be to taste her, but to catch that single drop of water from her nipple. The image was so clear she could almost feel it—the slight rough feel of his tongue, the incredible softness of his lips just brushing against her hard nipple. A violent shiver went through her whole body. Goosebumps broke out on her arms and legs even though the water was warm. A familiar, unwanted heat pulsed low in her belly, right in her pussy. She felt a distinct, slick wetness between her legs that had nothing to do with the shower.

No! She shook her head hard and turned the water to cold for a brutal few seconds. What happened was a mistake. It was too much. It can’t happen again. She scrambled out of the bathroom, drying herself roughly with a towel, trying to rub away the feeling and the powerful picture in her head.

There was a missed call from Rajiv. She called him back, her breath still a little fast.

Rajiv: “Meera! Good news. Arjun came to the office just now. I had to really pressure him, but he’s agreed to come for dinner.”

Meera: “Achaa? That’s good. How… how is he?” she asked, trying to sound normal.

Rajiv: “Better than yesterday, I think. But still… lost somewhere. Distant. You’ll see tonight. Try to talk to him, okay?”

Meera: “Haan, theek hai.” (Yes, okay.) She hung up, her heart flipping over.
He’s coming. He’s lost because of me. And I will find him. Her feeling for him grew, a warm, protective feeling mixed with the thrilling want to see him.

She stood in front of her bedroom mirror, putting on lotion. Her skin was still pink from the shower. Her eyes went to her reflection, to her tits. Her nipples were still hard, from the cold water or from her thoughts. The image of Arjun’s tongue came back, even more detailed. She imagined him not just catching a drop, but his lips parting. The tip of his tongue would flick against her hard nipple, not once, but over and over, a soft, steady touch that would make her legs feel weak. She could almost feel the gentle pull of his mouth, the light scbang of his teeth…

She shook her head hard. No. No more. She dressed in simple, modest clothes, a high-necked kurti and loose pants. Fabric that hid her shape, that wouldn’t ‘start’ anything. She went to the kitchen and started cooking with all her focus, putting her mixed-up feelings into the food. She made the rice pudding for him, stirring the milk and sugar carefully. Each stir felt like a sorry and a secret gift for him. She checked her phone a lot, but there were no new messages.

Evening came. She heard the car pull up, then the front door open. Her heart began to pound. She heard Rajiv’s happy voice call out, “Meera! We’re here! The dull boy is here!”

Meera had to press her hand to her mouth to stop a laugh. The dull boy. If only Rajiv knew why his ‘boy’ was so dull. The private joke, something only she and Arjun shared, sent a thrill through her.

She walked into the living room, smoothing down her kurti. Their eyes met right away. Arjun stood behind Rajiv. She could still see the shadow in his eyes, a sadness that pulled at her heart. But seeing him, right there in her house, sent a powerful jolt through her body, a zap of pure connection that pushed her guilt aside for a second.

They sat down to eat. She was super-aware of him sitting close to her. She made sure her bare foot was placed where his could easily brush against it. It was like she was waiting for him to be naughty. She would not have pulled away. A deep, hidden part of her wanted him to press against her. She would have allowed it. She imagined his foot touching hers, his toes slowly moving up her ankle, under the bottom of her pants. The thought was so real it made her breath catch. She would have allowed that. She might have even let his hand ‘accidentally’ fall on her knee under the table, a fast, secret touch. But he didn’t. He kept to himself.

She tried to catch his eye, giving him small smiles. But he looked at his food, only glancing at her once or twice before looking away. A pain of sadness hit her. He’s really hurt. Later, reaching for a water glass, she let her hand brush against his arm. He flinched and pulled his arm away fast, like her touch burned. Meera looked at him, her eyes wide with a silent question, but he wouldn't look back. It became a frustrating, silent game. She’d feel him looking at her, but when she looked up, he’d be staring at his plate or the wall.

After dinner, she was cleaning up in the kitchen, her feelings a mess. She heard footsteps and her heart jumped, thinking it was Arjun. But it was Rajiv.

Rajiv: “Kuch pata nahi chala,” he said, leaning in the doorway. (Couldn’t find out anything.) “Usse baat kar. Main Aaryan ko sula ke aata hoon.” (You talk to him. I’ll put Aaryan to sleep and come.)

Meera’s heart pounded. This was it. She heard Rajiv in the other room.

Rajiv: “Arjun, main Aaryan ko sulane ja raha hoon, thodi der mein aata hoon.” (Arjun, I’m going to put Aaryan to sleep, I’ll be back in a bit.)

Arjun: “Theek hai, main bhi chalta hoon.” (Alright, I’ll leave too.)

Rajiv: “Nahi nahi, ruko. Tumse discuss karna hai.” (No no, wait. I need to discuss something with you.) Then he called out, “Meera! Zara Arjun ko company do.” (Meera! Keep Arjun company for a bit.)

Meera leaned against the kitchen shelf, taking a deep breath. I won’t do anything wrong. I won’t. I just need to talk to him. I need to see him smile. I need to make him happy again. She saw her reflection in a shiny silver dish. She quickly fixed a piece of hair, pinched her cheeks for color, and took another breath before walking into the living room.

Arjun was sitting on the sofa, the same sofa where she had gotten herself off thinking about him. His elbows were on his knees, and he was staring at the floor. He looked up as she came in, his eyes meeting hers for a second before looking away, lost. His eyes then landed on the lavender flower in a vase on the table—the one he had brought for her. She had kept it alive. A small, real smile touched her lips. He saw it, and his face softened a tiny bit.

Gathering her courage, she didn’t sit across from him. She walked over and sat down right beside him on the sofa, leaving only a small space between them. He looked at her, surprised. She held his look, her eyes soft and begging.

His hand was resting on the sofa cushion between them. Slowly, giving him every chance to pull away, she reached out and put her hand gently on top of his. His skin was warm. The touch was electric. Her hand shook a little against his. He didn’t pull away. He just looked down at their hands, then back up at her face, his eyes wide, the sadness in them now mixed with confusion and a new, dawning hope.

She leaned in closer, closing the gap between them until the side of her breast was almost touching his arm. She could feel the heat coming off his body, a warmth that seemed to go right through her clothes and into her skin. Her voice, when she spoke, was a whisper, sweet and full of feeling.

Meera: “Arjun… itna dull kyun ho? Hamein tension ho rahi hai tumhare liye.” (Arjun… why are you so dull? We are getting worried for you.)
He shook his head. “Nahi… aisa kuch nahi hai…” (No… it’s nothing like that…)

Meera: You should not be dull again please.

Arjun nodded his head, a small smile finally touching his lips.

Right then, they heard the bedroom door open. Meera jumped back, snatching her hand away like she’d been burned, and stood up fast, putting a big space between them. Rajiv walked in, smiling.

Rajiv: “Kya hua dull boy ko? Abhi theek ho gaya?” (What happened to the dull boy? Is he better now?) He clapped Arjun on the shoulder.
Meera had to look down to hide her smile. The ‘boy’ thing again. She glanced at Arjun and saw a light pink on his cheeks. He felt it, too.

Meera: “Haan… shayad yeh boy kuch miss kar raha tha,” she said, her voice playful. (Yes… maybe this boy was missing something.)

Rajiv: “Kya miss kar raha tha, Arjun?” Rajiv asked, honestly curious. (What were you missing, Arjun?)

Arjun suddenly got flustered. “Aise kuch nahi… bus aise hi… main bilkul theek ho jaayega… Thanks a lot… just missing back home.” (It’s nothing… just like that… I’ll be completely fine… just missing home.)

Rajiv: “Arre yaar, ab yeh sab chhodo… be a happy boy.” (Oh come on, leave all that now… be a happy boy.)
The word ‘boy’ hung in the air. Meera and Arjun’s eyes met across the room. A shared, secret understanding passed between them. Meera let a slow, naughty smile spread across her face, her eyes holding his for a moment too long, letting him see her amusement, her shared secret.

Rajiv and Arjun talked for a while more about work. Meera kept busy in the kitchen, her heart feeling light. Later, when she was in the washroom, she heard the front door close. Rajiv called out, “Meera! Arjun left. He was waiting to say goodbye to you, but his Uber came quickly.”

She felt a pinch of disappointment but it was covered by happiness. The night had ended well. They were connected again.

She picked up her phone before bed. There was no message from him. She typed one.

Meera: Arjun.

The reply came fast.
Arjun: Meera.

Meera: Kya hua? Bool gaye aapka Chandrika ko? (What happened? Did you forget your Chandrika?) It was a bold move, claiming their intimacy again. She needed him to know her mind was back with him.

Arjun: No. Never. It’s always in my mind.

Meera: Then what happened to you, Arjun? Be good… She sent it, carefully not saying ‘boy’ this time.
She waited. There was no quick response. Just as she was putting the phone down, she typed one last thing.

Meera: Be a happy boy.

A blushing emoji came back instantly from Arjun. She put the phone down, a deep feeling of satisfaction and warm want settling over her. She fell asleep, her thoughts not filled with guilt, but with the memory of his warm hand under hers and the promise in his blushing emoji. The problem wasn’t fixed, but it was put aside, replaced by the thrilling surety of their secret bond.
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RE: The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife - by subtle - 02-09-2025, 01:02 AM



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