Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

19. For you darling!

Gautam had been booking their flight tickets to Canada when a fleeting memory surfaced—Geetha’s single trip to Dubai years ago, the faint scent of desert sand still clinging to her stories. Just a month and ten days prior, he himself had flown from Hyderabad to Montreal via Boston, the sterile tang of recycled cabin air a bitter reminder of the miles. But now, on the night of May seventeenth, it was Geetha and Bharat who touched down in Boston after a grueling haul from Dubai. The roar of jet engines faded into the muffled hum of the airport terminal, where the air hung heavy with the sharp bite of jet fuel and overbrewed coffee from nearby kiosks. Exhausted, their limbs leaden from the cramped seats and the relentless drone of multilingual announcements, they shuffled toward the airport hotel Gautam had reserved in advance—a modest sanctuary of beige carpets and the faint, musty whiff of industrial cleaner, promising one night’s respite before their early connection to Montreal.

The room card beeped with a soft, electronic chirp as it unlocked the door, releasing a puff of cool, conditioned air laced with the subtle floral notes of cheap hotel soap. Geetha stepped inside first, her eyes sweeping the simple space: a single queen-sized bed swathed in crisp white linens that rustled faintly under the overhead light’s sterile glow, a lone bathroom door ajar with its porcelain gleam, and the quiet hum of the air conditioner whispering against the distant rumble of airport traffic. She sighed, a deep, bone-weary exhale that carried the faint salt of dried sweat on her skin, and stepped aside to draw Bharat in behind her. He closed the door with a decisive click that echoed like a full stop in the hushed room, and in an instant, his arms wrapped around her, hugging her tight. The heat of his body seeped through her rumpled t-shirt, a comforting press of firm muscle against her softer curves, while his hands slipped beneath the hem, fingers splaying across the warm, slightly damp silk of her waist. His calluses, rough from years of unyielding labor back home, grazed her skin like sandpaper on velvet, sending a shiver up her spine. His eyes, wide and gleaming under the dim lamp’s amber haze, brimmed with wonder, surprise, and an awe that bordered on disbelief—the sharp, metallic tang of jet lag sharpening his gaze. For Bharat, who had never so much as crossed state lines back home, where the air was thick with monsoon mud and temple incense, this was a miracle: continents bridged, America beneath his feet, its cool, unfamiliar chill seeping through the thin soles of his sneakers. And the only soul to share this electric joy with was Geetha, her familiar jasmine shampoo mingling with the faint, acrid edge of travel-weary perspiration.

“Miss,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, a low rumble that vibrated against her ear like distant thunder, “my life is changing because of you. I’m so happy now. I never thought I’d be traveling the world like this so soon.” His breath was warm and minty from the gum he’d chewed through the flight, brushing her cheek like a summer breeze.

She understood the raw thrill in his words, the boyish elation bubbling over like fizzy soda, and she hugged him back, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, inhaling the clean, soapy scent of his skin mingled with the faint musk of anticipation. “I know, ra,” she whispered, her voice a soft rasp from hours of strained small talk on the plane. “Are you less scared now?” Her fingers traced idle circles on his back, feeling the taut ridges of his spine through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Hmm... I’m not scared, Miss. It’s just that my mother will be tensed. That’s why.” His words carried a faint tremor, like the echo of worry in his chest, and she could feel his heart thumping steadily against her own, a reassuring drumbeat in the quiet room.

“Hmm... Okay, don’t think about anything. Put on your nightdress and sleep. We have to wake up in five hours to catch our flight to Montreal. Okay?” The clock on the nightstand glowed 9:15 PM in harsh red digits, its tick a relentless reminder of the dawn departure.

“Hmm...”

He pulled back just enough to gaze into her eyes, his own filled with a tender, unspoken love that made the air between them hum with unspoken promises. He leaned in to kiss her, the faint stubble on his jaw whispering against her skin, but Geetha placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath her palm like a caged bird. “Change your clothes and sleep. That’s all.”

He said nothing, stepping away to give her space, though a flicker of disappointment shadowed his face, darkening his eyes like clouds over a full moon. Geetha’s expression softened with a touch of sadness, her lips parting on a sigh that tasted of stale airline pretzels, and she turned toward the bathroom without another word. It was just one room, one bed—one intimate bubble in a foreign land, where the faint scent of bleach from the linens clashed with the underlying staleness of recycled air.

Bharat set his bag by the bed with a soft thud, the zipper’s rasp cutting the silence as he peeled off his t-shirt, revealing the lean, sun-kissed planes of his chest, still carrying the faint, earthy residue of Hyderabad’s dust. His gaze drifted to the closed bathroom door, a glossy barrier that muffled the first trickle of running water. A restless pull tugged at him, urging him forward, his mind whispering temptations laced with the humid heat of curiosity. He took a step, hand hovering near the knob, the cool metal biting into his fingertips.

“Don’t come in here. Stop...” Geetha’s warning sliced through the door, sharp but laced with fatigue, her voice echoing off the tiled walls like a splash in a still pool.

Yet Bharat, ever the mischievous one, ignored it, the thrill of defiance quickening his breath into shallow huffs. He pushed the door open a crack, the hinges sighing softly, and peered inside. The air hit him first—thick with steam and the coppery tang of fresh blood, undercut by the floral sharpness of her body wash. There she was: pants dbangd over the sink like wilted petals, a stark red stain blooming on the fabric, dark and viscous under the fluorescent buzz. Geetha sat on the edge of the toilet, the porcelain cool against her bare thighs, carefully separating a blood-filled menstrual cup from between her legs with a wet, sucking pop. She emptied its contents into the bowl with a faint plop, the metallic scent blooming stronger now, primal and unyielding, before tossing the cup into the bin with a muffled clatter. A stray drop of blood trailed down, raw and glistening, slipping from her vulva like a crimson tear, catching the light in a slick sheen.

Bharat’s face tightened, an innocent fear knotting his brow, his nostrils flaring at the unfamiliar, iron-rich aroma that twisted his gut. Questions flooded him, unformed and urgent, tasting sour on his tongue. Geetha’s eyes snapped up, catching him there, and she snatched her black panty from the floor, the elastic snapping taut as she hastily covered herself, the fabric whispering against her damp skin. “Why did you come in?” she said, her voice a mix of awe and nerves, cracking like thin ice under the hum of the exhaust fan. “Go, ra. It’s not good for you to see this.” Her cheeks flushed hot, the steam curling around her like a veil, carrying the faint, soapy lather of her hurried rinse.

Drawn by a youthful curiosity he couldn’t quell, he took a tentative step forward, the tile floor cold and unyielding beneath his socks. “Miss, what happened? Is that blood?” His voice was a hushed croak, the word “blood” hanging heavy, evoking the sharp sting of childhood scbangs.

“You go... don’t look.” Her tone sharpened, but her hands trembled slightly, the air between them thick with the humid mist and unspoken vulnerability.

But his agitation held him fast, feet rooted like saplings in the damp warmth. He closed the distance, kneeling before her on the gritty tile, his hands steady on her shoulders, thumbs brushing the damp straps of her bra, feeling the subtle quiver of her breath. “Miss, why is there blood...?” He searched her eyes, dark pools reflecting the overhead light’s glare.

She cupped his face in her hands, drawing him close, her palms cool and faintly clammy against his cheeks, her touch a balm against the awkwardness that prickled like static. “This is what happens to women,” she said softly, masking her own discomfort with a steady inhale that carried the faint, antiseptic bite of the bathroom air. “You don’t know.”

Stroking his hair, her fingers threading through the damp curls at his nape, releasing a whiff of his shampoo—crisp and citrusy—she continued, “You go outside, ra. I’ll wash up and come out.” The words vibrated gently against his scalp.

“Miss, tell me what happened, please.” His plea was earnest, laced with the faint tremor of fear, his knees aching faintly against the hard floor.

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry.” Her voice softened to a murmur, like rain pattering on leaves.

“Then why did the blood come?” He leaned closer, inhaling the mingled scents of her—blood’s metallic edge softening under the overlay of warm water and soap.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips soft and slightly chapped, tasting faintly of lip balm’s waxy sweetness, and drew a deep breath that expanded her chest against his. “Women get periods every month. Blood comes out like this. It’s nothing, okay...?” The explanation hung in the steam, simple yet profound, the water’s steady drip punctuating her words like hesitant applause.

“Really, it’s nothing?” Doubt lingered in his tone, a shadow across his features.

She managed a smile, though it strained against her weariness, pulling at the corners of her mouth like taut silk. “Nothing happened. You go outside. I need to wash up.” The invitation was gentle, but the air felt heavier now, charged with the intimacy of revelation.

“Miss, I’ll stay with you. Is it really nothing?” His eyes pleaded, wide and unguarded, the fan’s whir a constant underscore.

“Okay, stay.” Resignation softened her voice, a quiet surrender.

He watched, breath held in his chest like a held note, as she reached for the hand shower, the plastic grip slick in her palm. Warm water hissed out in a fine mist, spraying over the stain between her thighs with a soft patter, the red diluting to rivulets that swirled pink down the drain, carrying away the sharper edges of the scent. The folds of her skin emerged, flushed and tender under the stream, and a wave of relief washed over him, loosening the knot in his throat. Geetha met his gaze without a word, offering a small, reassuring smile that crinkled the fine lines at her eyes, her breath steadying into the humid air.

Emboldened, he gripped her waist, fingers sinking into the yielding warmth of her hips, the faint tremor of her muscles under his touch like ripples on still water, and drew her to the toilet’s edge. Burying his face between her thighs, he inhaled deeply— the earthy musk of her arousal mingling with the fading copper of blood, a heady, forbidden elixir that quickened his pulse. She seized his hair, yanking him back with a sharp tug that stung his scalp. “Bharat, no...” Her voice was a gasp, edged with the raw scbang of surprise.

He lifted his head, eyes pleading, strands of damp hair falling across his forehead. “Why does this happen to women, Miss?” The question tasted of innocence, his lips still tingling with the phantom warmth of her skin.

“Do you know that women produce an egg?”

“Hmm... they call it an ovum, right? Men produce sperm.”

“Ha... women produce one a month. If it comes out and there’s no pregnancy, it goes to waste and comes out like this.”

His gaze dropped to her thighs once more. “Does blood always come out like this?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why does it come out, Miss?”

“The lining of the uterus sheds and comes out. That’s why there’s blood.”

“Does it hurt, Miss?”

“Hmm... it’s a little less now.”

“Miss, tell me again so I can understand?”

She cradled his face affectionately. “Women get periods every month, Bharat. The egg—” She touched her vulva lightly with a finger. “—comes here. If there is sperm, one of them takes the ovum, and if it does, they get pregnant.”

“Miss, this is in Biology.”

Looking deep into his eyes, she pressed on. “If there is no sperm, the uterine lining where the egg was attached sheds and comes out in three to five days. Blood also comes out.”

“Does it happen to everyone, Miss?”

“Ha... it happens to me, to Chandu, and to your mother too...”

Bharat fell silent, the revelation sinking in. He hadn’t even known women bled like this every month—a hidden rhythm of the world he’d only just glimpsed.

“I’ll tell you one thing, listen,” Geetha added, her voice steady.

“Hmm...”

“If you want to have sex with any girl, you must ask her first, and only if she likes it, only if she says there is no problem, and only if she agrees, should you do it.”

“Miss, but I didn’t ask you last time, right?”

“I am different, I know. I took tablets, you see.”

“Miss, if you hadn’t taken the tablet, would you have gotten pregnant?”

“It might happen, or it might not.”

“Then what we did...”

She covered his mouth with her hand. “It’s okay, ra. I liked what you did. But with another girl, always make sure you know about her periods before having sex. It’s not good to use a tablet in a hurry. Since I couldn’t say no when you unexpectedly asked me the other day, it happened.”

“Miss, can’t we fuck now?”

“We can. Why did you ask that?”

“Nothing, just a doubt.”

Geetha noticed the telltale bulge straining against his pants. “Miss, you take a shower, I’ll change my clothes...” He turned to step back, but her hand darted out, cupping the swell through the fabric.

“Aren’t you ashamed, ra?” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Does it get hard even after seeing this?”

“Sorry, Miss, I came here for something else, but after seeing you like this...”

She smiled at his sheepish head-scratching. “We have a flight tomorrow morning. Go to sleep...”

“Hmm... just for a little while, I thought...”

Her hand rubbed him through the cloth, and she bit her lip. “Do you want it, Bharat...?”

He startled back at her directness. “No, no, Miss, not now. You take a shower.”

But she tightened her grip, pulling him closer. “Come here...” As he yielded a step, she unbuckled his belt with swift fingers, tugged down the zipper, and freed his hardened length, squeezing it firmly.

Bharat averted his eyes, heat rising in his cheeks. “Miss, I thought I might not get a chance once we get there.”

She caressed his cock, feeling it swell under her touch. “What do you think we should do if he finds out about us?”

“I’ll be careful, Geetha. I won’t put my hands on you in front of him.”

Geetha began stroking him in earnest. “I’ll talk to Gautam gaaru and make sure you sleep next to me.”

He bent low, drowning in her eyes. “No... if you do that, I might not be able to control myself, Miss...” His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping her neck.

She twisted away with a fierce tug. “Then, can you be alone?”

“I came to see Canada, that’s enough.”

They kissed then, lips crashing together. He sucked her upper lip, releasing it with a soft pop. “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t have come at all. Because I don’t want anything to happen between you two because of me.”

Her fingertips coaxed his balls gently, her left hand cinching his neck as she kissed his forehead. “I want you too, ra. Mine wants yours.”

Smiling softly, he prompted, “Mine means?”

Shyly, she kissed the tip of his organ. “This...”

“Sh... Don’t suck it, Miss. I might get tired. I feel a little strange.”

“It’s up to you, ra... Ask if you want it.”

Wordless, he kissed her neck, then knelt to press his lips to her navel. Geetha watched as he trailed lower, kissing her belly just above her pussy. In her haze, she didn’t stop him. Bharat dipped another inch, burying his face between her thighs, and kissed the red, hibiscus-like bloom of blood.

“Iss...” She groaned, clutching his head and yanking him back. “No....”

“Just once...” Insistent, he licked beneath her pussy lips, tasting the metallic tang.

Geetha’s body tingled, the cramping ache in her stomach easing into something warmer, more comforting under his tongue. He traced her vertical lips again.

“Aah... no, it’s not good, Bharat.”

She pulled away firmly this time, the passion he’d stoked threatening to overwhelm her. Scooping him up, she settled him on her lap atop the toilet seat, wrapping him in her arms. “No, ra... What you said is right, we should sleep.”

“Can I ask one thing?”

She stroked his back as he huddled against her. “Hmm...”

He kissed her neck, his hand caressing her left breast. “I want to watch Gautam gaaru fuck you.”

The words landed like a stone in her gut. How could she bear to diminish Gautam in Bharat’s eyes? “No.... How can you watch that? It’s wrong.”

“Please, Geetha.... I want to see how you fuck with your husband.”

“Bharat, don’t talk like that, ra.”

“Why are you still shy... we did the same thing, right? I want to watch.”

“I won’t agree. I don’t like it.”

“Please, just leave the door slightly ajar when you are in the bedroom tomorrow.”

“Okay, we’ll see if it’s possible, ra.”

“Miss... I like watching that. After seeing him suck your cock through the window that day, I wanted to see the fucking too, so I’m asking.”

“Why do you need to watch, ra? You fucked me yourself....”

The slip escaped her, and she bit her tongue, mortified.

Bharat laughed, light and teasing. She buried her face in her hands, flinching. “Chee... you are making me speak dirty words, you silly boy.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about all this between us.”

She kissed his shoulder. “You’re getting me used to it, ra.”

“Get used to it, Geetha. Do anything you want to your puppy.”

She flicked his head gently. “That’s enough, ra, go... sleep without thinking anything... I’ll come after my shower.”

“Hmm...”

Some time later, Geetha emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, the steam of her bath clinging to her skin. Bharat lay shirtless on the bed, the blanket dbangd loosely over him. But the hormonal storm inside her refused to quiet; the sight of him ignited an urge she couldn’t ignore. She loosened the towel’s knot and slid onto the bed beside him, biting her lip with a shy, mischievous smile as she kissed the taut muscle of his neck.

He turned to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and tugged the towel lower, his hand claiming and squeezing her breast. “Aren’t you asleep yet....” she murmured affectionately.

“I’m waiting for you....” He emerged from under the blanket, enveloping her in an embrace, the towel the only barrier between them.

“What does the puppy want?”

“Anything?”

His palm stroked her waist, fingers kneading the soft fold there. “Hmm...” she moaned softly.

“Miss, will it hurt if I put it in your pussy now?”

She raked her knuckles through his hair. “Shall I tell you something... It might feel good, ra... but I’ve never done it.”

He ventured lower, squeezing the white, pumpkin-like swell of her buttock in his full grasp. “Mmm....”

“Didn’t you do it with Gautam gaaru?”

“Uh-uh...”

He captured her lower lip in a kiss, squeezing her buttock harder. Geetha’s body tensed, then she nipped his lip sweetly in response.

As he bit back, she cried out, “Aaah...” and released him.

“Will you hit me, ra?”

“I felt like hitting you. Did it hurt?”

“If you hit me that hard, won’t it burn?”

“I won’t hit you if you say no.”

She dbangd her leg over him. His hand snaked from behind her buttocks into the warmth of her thighs, brushing the lower edge of her vertical lips. “Ah...”

“Miss, did you wash your ass well?”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. “Why do you ask that, ra?”

“Tell me?”

“I just took a shower now, didn’t I?”

She lifted her arm, and he kissed her left armpit, sending a thrill racing through her. She grabbed his head, pressing him closer. “Hmm... Geetha...” he mumbled, intoxicated, his lips lingering.

“Hmm...”

He guided her onto her back and shifted, positioning himself behind her thighs. “What are you doing...?”

“I’ll tell you, bend over.”

Yielding to his whim, she lifted her hips and arched forward. He kissed a tiny mole on her milky-smooth back, and she shivered, eyes fluttering shut. His hand slid under her neck, cupping and squeezing her left breast. “Mmmmmm....” She bit her lip.

Inch by inch, Bharat kissed down her back, his teeth grazing the high curves of her buttocks. “Abba... H..”

He nipped and licked in quick, teasing darts. The cool balm of his tongue soothed the burn of his bites, doubling the pleasure coiling within her. As he gently tugged the soft, khoya-like flesh of her right buttock with his front teeth, Geetha trembled, lips caught between her teeth.

“Miss, close your mouth.”

“Wh—” Before the word formed, he bit deeper, pulling the fat of her buttock.

“AAAAA...” Her scream ripped through the room, nerves firing like lightning.

He licked the tender spot in apology. “Mmmmmm... What do you think they are that you’re biting them, you dog...”

Smack. Four finger marks bloomed on her left buttock, the flesh quivering. Eyes squeezed shut, she savored the sharp pleasure amid the sting. “Amma... Bharat... why are you hitting me, you psycho...”

He dbangd himself over her, licking her neck. “When you scream like that, it’s crazy, Geetha. Do you know how they shake when I hit them?”

She clawed at the pillows overhead, gripping her head. “Don’t delay, ra, please put yours in..”

“Put what?”

“Abba, don’t ask, don’t you know?”

Squeezing the slapped spot, he coaxed, “You can tell me, can’t you?”

“Ah...”

She reached back through her thighs, guiding his hand to her pussy lips, pressing his fingers there. Gazing at her raw need, he slipped his little finger inside. “Iss... Not that...”

“Hmm...”

He joined his ring finger. “Uff...”

“Miss, do you know what I’m going to do now?”

“Tell me...”

Fingering her pussy with his right hand, he parted her buttocks with his left, sinking his face into the cleft and kissing her asshole. “Aaah...” Geetha groaned, lust shuddering through her as she crushed the pillows in her fists.

His tongue delved eagerly, laving her. She lurched forward, bracing against the bed, and twisted to glare at him. “Chee.... you have no sense, ra. What is that dirty thing?”

He rose to lick her neck. “Mmm... I told you, didn’t I, that I’d lick all of you?”

“Chi, even there...”

She flicked his head, then slid her hand down to grip his cock. The itch in her pussy clawed at her, and she angled him, urging entry.

Bharat exhaled hot breaths against her face and kissed her. “Do it slowly, okay.”

“Do what?”

“Insert it, ra...”

He tapped his cock against her mound. “Mmmm....” She bit his chin.

“What should I do after inserting it, Miss?”

“Abba, insert it, don’t delay.”

He teased her vertical lips, stroking horizontally across her raw vulva. Her craving peaked; she screamed and slapped his face. “Insert it, you rascal...”

“I’ll thrust it in, Miss, if you tell me what to do after inserting it...”

“Please, ra...” She bucked her hips, pressing his cock to her entrance with her own hand.

But Bharat held firm, his game unrelenting. Her pussy throbbed, desperate for release. Face buried in the pillow, she mumbled, “Fuck...”

“I didn’t hear you clearly....” He chuckled.

“Fuck me....” she begged, eyes clamped shut in shame.

Slowly, he pressed forward, the head of his cock slipping into her depths with a wet plop. “Aaah... Ssssss...”

He eased in another inch. “Hush... Miss, your pussy is so soft..”

She fisted the pillows, arching up. Bharat focused, sinking deeper, and began a gentle rhythm with his hips. “Ah... ah... Abba... do it slowly, slowly, just like that...”

Leaning over her, he soothed, “Okay, okay...”

Palm braced against the bed, he drove back and forth with deliberate slowness. “Ah, ah... Abba...”

He captured her groaning lips in a kiss. “Hmm... Close your mouth, Miss...”

She reached up, eyes sealing shut. He maintained the unhurried pace, pleasure building without frenzy.

“I’ll fuck you all night, Miss.”

“Hmm... Gautam hasn’t done this even once, ra. He never holds back when I ask him to be slow.”

“I’m doing it, aren’t I, Miss?”

“Ah... thanks, ra...”

He licked her armpit. “But when will it come...”

“Do it until it comes, ra. How can you hold back?”

“I don’t know. Does Gautam gaaru not hold back?”

“Uh-uh... he can’t last even two minutes.”

“Really? Miss, shall we see how many minutes I can hold back?”

“You took a good amount of time last time.”

“Not like that, let’s check, look at the time on the phone.”

“Hmm...”

He withdrew slowly, and her nerves screamed in protest. “Iss... Don’t take it out.”

“Just one minute.”

He snatched the phone from the bedside, passed it to her, kissed her deeply, parted her thighs, and plunged back in with exquisite care. “Abba...”

The clock read 9:43 PM. He leaned in, lips on hers, and resumed his steady thrusts. Her juices slickened him, her walls gripping, vertical lips sucking him deeper.




Time: 21:49...

“Ah... Bharat... how are you holding back, ra?”

“Should I fuck you harder then?”

“No, no...”

...

Time: 21:59

“Fuck, ra... Ah, ah...”

“Ah, Miss, don’t scream.”

“Mmmmm... It’s been more than ten minutes, ra…!”

“Stop, don’t talk.”

...

Time: 22:10

“Uff, Miss.”

“Aah... no... slow.”

“Ah, it’s coming, I can’t stop it..... Mmm....”

“Ah, Amma.. Am… Ha… Amma….”

“Hush... Abba, Miss...”

“Aaah... AAAAaah…. H…”

“Ha, Miss, stop... It’s over.”

...

Time: 22:14

They clung together fiercely, legs entwined, collapsing into a sated tangle of limbs and breaths, the world narrowing to the quiet comfort of their shared afterglow.