Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife
Chapter 21 The Rain

The morning sun was just warm. Meera moved around the kitchen, a steady feeling of being pleased sitting deep in her stomach. She felt proud. She had fixed Arjun. A few words, one touch, one secret. It made her feel strong.


Rajiv came up behind her. She was cutting fruit. He put his arms around her waist. He was warm. But this morning, his hands weren't just holding her. They slid up her body. He cupped her breasts through her thin top. He squeezed them. It was a familiar grip, the way he always held her to show she was his. But today, it felt wrong.

“Subah subah itni busy?” (So busy so early in the morning?) he said into her hair. His breath was hot on her neck. He pushed his hips forward, pressing his hard cock against her backside. She could feel the thick shape of him through his pants, through her clothes.

This is normal. He’s my husband. This is what we do. But all she could see was Arjun’s sad eyes from last night. She could feel his hand shaking under hers on the sofa. That feeling was sharper. But the pride was there, too. Knowing she could make another man feel that way made her feel powerful. It made her wet. She leaned back into him, letting his hardness press into her. She let herself enjoy the pressure for a second, even while her mind was somewhere else. She turned her head and gave him her cheek. It was the same move she used on Arjun. Now it was just a tool.

He kissed her cheek, a wet smack. “Accha laga kal dekh ke,” he said, letting her go to get coffee. “Arjun ko finally smile karte hue. Umeed hai ab mood theek ho jayega.” (It felt good to see yesterday. Arjun finally smiling. Hope his mood is better now.)

She didn’t turn around. She focused on cutting the mango. “Haan… shayad,” she said, keeping her voice flat. (Yes… maybe.)

The smile is because of me. The sadness was because of me. I did that. The thought sent a sharp thrill between her legs. It was a good feeling, but it was scared, too. This was dangerous. She was playing with two men. Her husband, who had no idea. And Arjun, who wanted her so badly it was like a sickness. One mistake and it would all break. The fear was a cold spot under the heat of the thrill.

He was at the door, putting on his shoes. “Kal ki wedding party yaad hai na? Shaam ko ready rehna. Dinner wahi se hoga.” (You remember tomorrow's wedding party, right? Be ready by evening. Dinner will be from there.)

“Haan, haan, yaad hai.” (Yes, yes, I remember.) She gave him his lunch.

Then it was her son. She fixed his little backpack and smoothed his hair. “college mein accha se padhai karna, beta. Teacher ki baat maanna.” Study well in college, baby. Listen to your teacher.) She kissed his forehead. The love for her son was simple. It was nothing like the messy, complicated knot of feelings twisting in her gut.

Then they were gone. She was alone.

The happy feeling came back, strong. She was going to see Arjun today. At the wedding. She would wear a nice sari. He would look at her. The idea made her skin feel tight and sensitive.

She picked up her phone. The screen was black. No messages. The happy feeling got smaller. He’s still holding back. He’s still mad, even after last night. She needed to fix it. Now. Her fingers typed fast.

Meera: Arjun.
He answered right away. Like he was holding his phone, waiting.

Arjun: Meera, good morning.

Meera: Tumhe kya hua? Kal bola sab theek ho jayega. (What happened to you? Yesterday you said everything will be fine.)
She saw the three dots. They blinked. Then they stopped. Nothing. The silence felt heavy. She got nervous.

Meera: Arjun, eh kya hua? (Arjun, what is this?)

Arjun: I am sorry Meera, really.
Sorry? For what?

Meera: Lekin eh sorry for what?

Arjun: Sorry for making you feel upset.
The words hit her in the chest. He wasn’t sorry for wanting her. He was sorry for making her feel bad. He was worried about her, even while he was hurting. A sudden wave of feeling for him washed over her. Her eyes got wet.

Meera: Don’t think I am upset. I am happy. Now eh sab chhodo. Where are you now? (Now leave all this.)

Arjun: Am on the way to office.

Meera: Ok. Tu jaldi jaaiyyo… warna Rajiv se bol ke late coming ka punishment dilwa doongi. (You go quickly… or I’ll tell Rajiv and get you punished for late coming.)  A little smile touched her mouth. It felt good to joke about her husband with him. It was a secret just for them.

Meera: When you reach, ping me.

Arjun: Theek hai, Meera.  (Alright, Meera.)
It was so formal. Just her name. It felt like a door closing. A tight worry twisted in her stomach. Why is he being so cold? She had to pull him back. She had to remind him.

Meera: Kya hua? Nowadays you forgot your Chandrika.

Her thumb waited over the send button. Your Chandrika. She was saying it out loud. She was telling him that her body, the curve of her stomach he loved, belonged to him. She sent it.

The message went. A powerful feeling exploded inside her. It started in her head. My navel. His Chandrika. But then it dropped lower, becoming a physical ache. Her other hand moved on its own. It left the phone and went to her stomach, slipping under the waistband of her salwar.

She was sitting on the bed. She let the phone fall on the blanket. All her attention was on her fingers on her skin. She hooked a finger into the hem of her kurti and pulled it up, slowly, gathering the fabric above her belly button. The air in the room felt cool on her bare stomach.

Her fingertips started to move. They brushed over the smooth, flat skin of her lower belly. It was soft. She traced slow, lazy circles, feeling the flesh give under her touch. A light shiver went through her. She closed her eyes.

Her finger stopped at the very edge of her navel. She pressed down lightly, feeling the dip where it began. A jolt of electricity shot from that spot straight down between her legs. It spread out, making her nerves feel alive. Her breath caught. She bit down on her bottom lip.

Her finger started to trace the entire rim of her navel. She followed the perfect circle slowly, carefully. With every little bit of skin she touched, the feeling got stronger. This wasn’t just touching herself. She was touching the part he owned. This is what he sees. This is what he wants. This is his. The thought made her feel incredibly turned on. The muscles in her stomach twitched under her finger. Her breathing got deeper, louder. A warm, wet throbbing started low in her belly. It was a deep ache.

She let her finger dip into the shallow hole of her navel, just a little, not going in deep, just teasing the opening. It was so sensitive. It felt like her whole body was connected to this one spot. Her head fell back. Her neck arched. She was lost in it. She imagined it was his finger, not hers. She imagined him watching her.

He named this. He calls this his. And I just told him it is. I gave it to him. This belongs to Arjun now. The idea of it, of giving a part of her body to another man, sent a hard, shaking shudder through her whole body. Her hips pushed down against the bed on their own, a small movement of pure need.

The phone buzzed. The vibration was loud and violent against the quiet blanket. It shocked her. Her eyes snapped open. Her hand jerked away from her stomach like it was burned. She yanked her kurti down. Her heart was pounding hard, a fast beat of panic. She grabbed the phone.

It was a message from Arjun.

Arjun: I reached.
That was all. No ‘Meera’. No ‘Chandrika’. Just ‘I reached’.

The words were like a slap. The warm, throbbing want that had been building in her guts went cold and sour. The high from touching herself crashed down, leaving her feeling stupid and naked and upset. The morning’s happiness was gone. Now there was just the sharp, confusing sting of him pulling away.
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RE: The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife - by subtle - 10-09-2025, 12:02 AM



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