Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

I stepped out onto the balcony, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the estate's manicured lawns, and there they were—Miss Geetha and Gautam Garu, entwined in the shimmering turquoise of the swimming pool like figures from some forbidden dream. I hadn't anticipated this: her lithe form reclined against him, her laughter carrying on the breeze like a siren's call. The sight twisted something deep in my gut—desire laced with dread. What if she glimpsed me and fury ignited in those dark eyes? But no, her gaze lifted, locking onto mine with an invitation that bordered on mischief. "Come down," she called, her voice a silken thread pulling me inexorably toward them.


My mind raced with shadows of secrets. The memory of that stolen afternoon, her lips on mine amid the chaos of half-finished paintings, gnawed at me. What if I let it slip to Gautam Garu? Or worse, what if she had already confessed, and his temper—usually so measured—erupted like a monsoon? Heart pounding, I shrugged into a simple yellow T-shirt and black shorts, the fabric clinging to my damp skin from the recent bath. Descending the stairs, I peered through the glass panels, catching fragments of their murmured conversation. The door to the pool lay just beyond the corridor, a portal to temptation I both craved and feared.

The air outside was thick with chlorine and jasmine, the water's surface rippling like liquid silk under the sun's caress. Miss Geetha leaned against the pool's eastern edge, her body cradled in Gautam Garu's lap, her laughter bubbling up as she beckoned me closer. He lounged beside her, one hand trailing lazy circles in the water, his touch hidden but unmistakable in its intimacy. My body betrayed me instantly—a insistent hardening that no amount of shifting could conceal. Swallowing my nerves, I approached, the distorted reflections of her breasts dancing on the waves, pale and full as ripe fruit, stirring a hunger that made my pulse thunder.

"Why were you watching from upstairs?" Gautam Garu's voice cut through the haze, deep and unamused, his eyes sharp as polished obsidian.

"Uh, I just came out, sir. Sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning under his scrutiny.

Miss Geetha dissolved into laughter, her mirth a balm against my trembling. They had summoned me—why this tremor, then, like a boy caught pilfering sweets?

"So, are you going back inside," Gautam continued, a wry edge creeping into his tone, "or just going to stand there and gawk?"

In my mind, unbidden, flashed the image of what might unfold without him: my hands on her, parting her thighs, sinking into the warm, welcoming depths of her. "Uh, sorry, sir."

"Come on," he said, gesturing with a tilt of his chin. "You get in too."

"Yes," she echoed, her smile wicked and warm. "Come on, Bharat."

What game was this? A test? A trap? "I just took a bath—no need."

"You'll do it again," Gautam replied, his command brooking no argument. "Get in."

Resignation mingled with a reckless thrill. If they insisted, who was I to deny? Better to heed their words while I lingered in this gilded cage of theirs. Yet doubt gnawed: Why no anger from him at my voyeurism? She was bare now, utterly exposed under the sun's indifferent gaze. Had she confessed our indiscretion? Did he... approve? One wrong word, one faltering glance, and the fragile peace might shatter.

"Take off your clothes," Miss Geetha said then, her voice a husky murmur that sent heat flooding through me.

What? The words hung in the air, absurd and electric. She knew the fire she stoked—surely this was her teasing, a playful torment. "I'm shy," I protested weakly, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "You two are right here."

Gautam's chuckle rumbled low. "So, are we not shy? We're without clothes, even knowing you were up there, eyes on us."

"Oh, that's not what I meant." Mortified, I peeled off my T-shirt, the cool air kissing my skin like a promise.

"Get in first," he advised, "then take them off."

Decision crystallized in the moment's heat. I leaped, the water enveloping me in a shock of cool clarity—not deep, my toes grazing the tiled bottom, the level lapping at my neck like a conspirator's whisper. With a furtive glance, I shucked my shorts and flung them toward the bench, the fabric landing in a damp heap. Beneath the surface, my arousal throbbed insistently, a secret pulse urging my hand downward, tempting me to stroke while devouring her with my eyes.

She caught my stare, her neck arching as she turned to Gautam Garu, their lips meeting in a slow, languid kiss that stole the breath from my lungs. Above the water, the elegant swell of her breasts bobbed like twin moons, creamy and unyielding as coconut shells carved by a lover's hand. Emboldened, I ducked under once, eyes wide in the underwater gloom. There, in crystalline silence: his fingers threading through the dark thatch at her core, massaging with deliberate tenderness. A gasp bubbled from my lips as I surfaced, only to find their gazes fixed on me—amused, knowing.

"Come here," Gautam said, his tone deceptively casual.

"Uh-uh, no," I blurted, the water suddenly too intimate a shroud.

"Come," he insisted. "It's okay. I won't mind."

His nonchalance unnerved me more than outrage ever could. His wife, naked and radiant, and he... unbothered? It defied the jealous rhythms of the world I knew. With a mental shrug—*whatever you wish*—I waded closer, positioning myself at her right, him at her left. Her eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, as if she might devour me whole. I shook my head in silent query—"What?"—and she nodded me nearer. Our shoulders brushed, a spark igniting; my length surged, rigid and aching, but I bit back any sound. Gautam Garu loomed too close for recklessness.

"Bharat..." His voice drew me like a hook.

"Yes, sir."

"You have to give me your word."

Had she betrayed us? Or was paranoia weaving its web? "Did you hear me?" he pressed.

"Ah! Yes, sir. Tell me."

"Bharat... this must stay between the three of us. You shouldn't tell anyone. No matter what happens here. Whatever unfolds these four days, it stays locked away."

"Of course, sir. I won't tell a soul." Even as the vow left my lips, her hand found me under the water—fingers curling, stroking with a rhythm that blurred thought to haze.

"You didn't feel wrong about kissing your teacher?" Gautam asked, his gaze probing.

Peering into the rippling depths, where her touch worked its silent magic, I confessed, "Sir, Miss told what happened between us that day with the painting. Honestly, if you're angry about it, I'll take full responsibility."

"Don't think too much, Bharat." His words were steady, almost paternal. "Geetha told me, and I agreed. I'm not angry at either of you. But I'll ask something else—something she held back."

Suspicion clawed at my chest; sweat beaded despite the pool's chill. A glance at her—her eyes mirrored my tension, wide and watchful. "Ask me, sir," I managed, voice taut as a bowstring.

"Geetha shared what you did while painting," he said. "Afterward, I pressed her: Did you suck him when Bharat asked?"

Ice flooded my veins. What madness was this? What lie had she spun? "Tell me the truth," he urged. "Did Geetha give you a blowjob before coming here?"

"Uh-uh..." I shook my head, denial instinctive.

"The truth?"

Her whisper ghosted my ear, urgent and velvet: "Say yes, come on."

"Yes..." The word tumbled out, half-choked.

"Is that all, or anything else?" His eyes narrowed, relentless.

She fell silent, her grip tightening like a vice. "No, sir... no..."

"Have you fucked any woman?" The question landed like a stone in still water.

Geetha bristled. "What are you asking? Stop it now—that's enough." But his hand clamped her waist, silencing her with a squeeze.

"You be quiet." He leaned in, closing the distance, his presence a tide I couldn't outrun. "He said, coming closer."

"Sir, if Miss agrees..." I met his stare, boldness surging from some reckless core. "I don't mind. I have the urge to get one."

Gautam Garu threw back his head and laughed—a booming, genuine roar that echoed off the tiles. "See, Geetha? Watching us has him all riled up."

"Ugh, stop it," she chided, though her cheeks flushed with delight. "You never used to do this."

"Alright... Now listen." We turned to him as one, her hand never ceasing its submerged dance. "We're heading to Niagara Falls tomorrow. The day after, evening—my MD's youngest daughter, Carla's, birthday party. Those are our plans for now. Okay?"

We murmured assent in unison, the water lapping at our words.

"Alright then," he said, rising slightly to press a kiss to the curve of her neck. She swayed into it, a soft moan escaping as her fingers clenched around me in involuntary delight. "I'll go fetch groceries. The hunger from a wife's cooking—no store-bought meal can touch it, eh?"

"Come back soon," she breathed, her voice laced with promise.

"I will. Don't cross the gate and vanish. If you like, we can wander the grounds together once I'm back."

"Certainly, sir," I replied, the words tasting of anticipation and the sharp tang of the unknown. As he hauled himself from the pool, water sheeting from his broad frame, the air hummed with possibilities—secrets shared, boundaries blurred, and the long, sultry days ahead stretching out like an uncharted river.



Gautam had just driven off, the low rumble of his car's engine fading into the distance as the gate clanged shut behind him. In the quiet that settled over the secluded poolside, Bharat and Geeta turned to each other, their eyes locking with a mix of lingering surprise and unspoken hunger. The water lapped gently at their bare skin, steam rising in lazy curls from the heated surface. Bharat reached for her without a word, drawing Geeta close until her body molded against his. His arms encircled her waist, strong and unyielding, and he captured her lips in a kiss that started soft but deepened with the urgency of secrets shared.

Geeta pulled back just enough to murmur against his mouth, her voice a breathy whisper laced with amusement. "Um... You heard it, right? We can be comfortable like this."

Bharat's eyes darkened, his grip tightening as he shook his head. "That's not it. What did you tell him?"

She traced a finger along his jaw, her touch light but teasing. "That we're here without clothes on."

"No, miss," he pressed, his voice low and insistent. "He suspects something about us."

Geeta shrugged, unperturbed, her lips curving into a defiant smile. "So what if he does? Let him."

Bharat's brow furrowed, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Miss, Gautam sir is so romantic. What didn't you do? He said you won't lick my pussy. So what did you do after that?"

"I told him I won't," she replied simply, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh..." Bharat's response was a soft exhale, heavy with unspoken desire. In one fluid motion, he gripped her waist and lifted her effortlessly, settling her onto the pool's edge before leaning in to kiss her again—this time gently, reverently, as if savoring the taste of her surrender.

"Shh... Let him go," Geeta whispered, glancing toward the driveway, though her body betrayed her words, arching toward him.

Bharat chuckled softly, his lips brushing her ear. "He said to kiss, so what else?"

"You saw the puppy from above, right?" she asked, steering the conversation with a playful lilt. "How did it look?"

"I know you called me when I was up and jerking off," he confessed, his voice roughening with the memory.

Geeta's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Really...? For me, I wanted to see it from there—it wasn't visible properly."

"For me, your moans made me hard," he admitted, his hands sliding up her sides.

A laugh bubbled from her throat as she cupped his face, pulling him into another kiss. She pressed her breast against his chest, the contact igniting sparks along her skin, while his tongue thrust forward, entwining with hers in a dance of heat and need.

"Geeta," Bharat murmured when they broke apart, his breath ragged, "you're such a bad teacher. No shame at all. Doing this with me while your husband is around."

She swatted his cheek lightly, her slap more caress than reprimand. "I didn't think he would agree, you know."

"What did he say when you told him?" Bharat asked, curiosity sharpening his gaze.

"I told him everything you did," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush.

"What? You told him everything?"

"No, no," she corrected with a grin, "everything except that one thing."

As Bharat's lips found her breast, trailing kisses down to capture her nipple, Geeta giggled, the sound light and breathless. He drew it into his mouth, sucking gently, and she squirmed, half-protesting. "Eww, oh god, stop."

But her hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer even as she spoke. Bharat brushed back the damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead, droplets of water tracing cool paths down her skin. "Miss, you do this outside too—if I'd known this earlier, I wouldn't have gone for a bath."

"Really?" Geeta's voice softened, tinged with wonder. "I didn't think he would do that. He's changed."

Bharat's fingers skimmed her collarbone, thoughtful. "Miss, do you think Gautam sir brings girls here? Nothing anyone does here gets out anyway."

"Not a girl," she teased, her eyes glinting, "maybe an auntie."

Bharat burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the tiled walls, rich and unguarded. "You're overthinking, miss." He shifted, his hand dipping below the water's surface to guide the head of his cock, submerging it with a deliberate slowness that made her pulse quicken.

Geeta sighed, leaning into him. "I feel so satisfied."

"Why?" he prompted, his thumb circling her hip.

"Today, I got all the pleasure I wanted from Gautam sir."

Bharat's expression turned pensive, a shadow of jealousy flickering in his eyes. "For some reason, after you told him what happened with me, I think he's jealous and wants to show even more affection toward you."

"Maybe," she conceded, though her mind wandered briefly to Gautam—to the way he'd granted her this freedom while subtly reclaiming his place as her anchor. It wasn't possessiveness alone; it was a reminder of his strength, woven through tales of Evelyn and boasts of his prowess. In her eyes now, he wasn't just her steady husband but a man bold enough to conquer another, his confidence a quiet fire that both thrilled and unsettled her.

"Miss," Bharat said, pulling her back to the moment, "are you feeling Gautam sir's essence?"

"His doesn't feel that intense," she mused, her fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest. "It's somehow not sticky."

"What?" Bharat blinked, caught off guard.

"Yes," she continued, her voice matter-of-fact yet intimate. "There's some difference between yours and his for me. You came on me once. He came in my hand once. His isn't sticky; it's like it's watery."

A wicked grin spread across Bharat's face. "Miss, want to taste mine again?"

"Eww, you idiot," she shot back, though laughter danced in her eyes. "You made me do it in my mouth yesterday. Gross. And you're asking again?"

"Haha... Okay, okay..." He relented, but the spark in his gaze promised mischief.

"He might not be back for an hour," Geeta said, her tone shifting to invitation as the distant sound of Gautam's car fully vanished.

With a shared laugh, she took his hand, leading him toward the stairs. They climbed dripping and unhurried, water pooling at their feet, until they reached the shaded bench overlooking the pool. Bharat settled there first, his posture relaxed yet proud, his arousal on full display like an offering. Geeta curled beside him, her fingers wrapping around his length with familiar ease, stroking in slow, deliberate rhythms that drew a low groan from his throat.

"Miss, do you remember?" Bharat murmured, his head tipping back against the stone. "When we went to our village, we swam first, then sat like this and kissed."

"Yes," she replied softly, her strokes steady. "No one was with us then either."

"Exactly." His voice warmed with nostalgia. "Back then, this sexy teacher shyly talked to me with double meanings."

"Hey, were you any less?" she countered, leaning in to nip at his earlobe. "You trapped me with words and kissed me."

Bharat turned his head, capturing her left breast in his mouth once more, sucking until her skin glistened anew. He wet her hair further with teasing laps of his tongue. "Back then, I wanted to grab these but didn't have the courage."

"I felt like teasing you," Geeta confessed, her breath hitching as his mouth worked its magic, "like I had to."

"How wonderful they feel..." Bharat's words were muffled against her skin, reverent. "I could play with them forever."

"You always say that... You only play with them..." But there was no complaint in her tone, only affection, as he squeezed her breast like soft dough in his fist.

A soft "Mmm..." escaped her lips, bitten back as she bit her own, her fingers venturing lower to pinch the sensitive vein beneath his scrotum. Bharat leaned in, licking her earlobe with a whisper. "Miss, there are all sorts of angles, right? You could teach me."

She lifted her hand, sweeping the wet strands of hair from her face, meeting his gaze with a sultry challenge. He maneuvered her then, turning her sideways so his chest pressed flush against her back, the heat of him seeping into her like sunlight. His cock nudged between her thighs, insistent and warm, and she reached back to clutch his neck, anchoring herself.

"They fuck in all kinds of ways," Bharat continued, his voice a husky rumble against her ear, "doggy, like this from the side, legs up, carrying, you on top of me..."

Geeta shook her shoulders in a sly shimmy, her smile coy. "You're the one telling me all this—why ask me?"

"Teach me, Geeta," he pleaded, half-joking, half-earnest.

She intertwined her fingers with his, guiding his hand to her breast. "When did I ever say I'd teach you?"

He pressed his full length against her, thrusting shallowly between her buttocks, the friction sending shivers racing up her spine. "Then shall we learn together?"

His fingers tickled the backs of her thighs, chasing away the chill with a rush of heat that made her body hum, writhing against him in helpless abandon. "Puppy..." she gasped, the endearment slipping out like a secret.

"Tell me, miss..." Bharat's breath was hot on her neck. "If you say to put it in your pussy like this, I'll do it just like that."

"Don't talk like that..." she protested weakly, even as her hips rocked back instinctively.

"Then how should I ask, miss...?"

"Not there..." Her voice trembled, laced with longing and restraint.

"What...?"

"Not this time..."

He searched her eyes, then kissed the curve of her neck, his resolve cracking. "I can't hold back, miss."

"Coming in my mouth is okay," she offered, her cheeks flushing.

Bharat's eyes lit with hunger. "Miss, I want to come on your face."

"No way."

"Please, just once."

"Uh-uh, no." But her denial softened as he rubbed both breasts with his palms, kneading them until she arched into his touch.

"On these then?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a velvet growl.

"What...?" She hesitated, glancing down at herself, curiosity blooming in her chest like a forbidden flower.

With one hand, he pushed her right breast upward, holding it firm, and traced a deliberate line down the valley between them with his finger, rubbing up and down in a slow, suggestive rhythm. Geeta's breath caught, surprise mingling with a rush of novelty that heated her core, her breasts swelling under his gaze like ripe fruit begging to be plucked.

"Got it, miss?" Bharat murmured, watching her reaction with predatory satisfaction.

Suddenly, her entire body ignited, a fierce blush creeping from her neck to her cheeks. "Don't say it so crudely, idiot."

"Shall I do it then...?"

"Mmm..." The moan slipped free as she wrapped herself around him, yielding completely.

Kissing the sensitive hollow of her neck, he squeezed her upper buttock, firm and yielding like a sun-ripened guava. "Gently..." she breathed, guiding his hand.

"I'll suck these too," he promised, his fingers toying with her breast, rolling the nipple until it peaked.

She hooked her arm around his waist, pressing his palm to the throbbing heat between her thighs. "Suck me..."

Bharat started to lower himself, but she caught his head, halting him mid-motion. "You're the one who says suck, and now you're stopping me?"

"Just stay like this for a bit..." Geeta pleaded, needing the solid weight of him.

From behind, he enveloped her in a fierce hug, their bodies entwining like vines in the undergrowth. They sealed their lips in a deep, consuming kiss, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of her mouth, coaxing her to suck as if drawing nectar from a bloom. Her breasts yielded against the hard plane of his chest, and the faint prickle of his mustache tickled her upper lip, drawing a greedy pull from her.

"Mmm..." Bharat groaned into the kiss. "These rosy nipples—I could suck them forever and it wouldn't be enough."

Blushing, she smiled shyly against him. "They're always ready for you to suck whenever you want."

He swirled his tongue deeper, and she responded in kind, sucking with a fervor that bordered on desperation. "Are the ones down there always ready too?" he asked, breaking just long enough to tease.

"Both are just for you..." Geeta whispered, her voice thick with surrender. "But you've done everything and you're still asking why?"

"You're my teacher, after all," he replied, nipping at her lower lip.

"Just a teacher?" She arched a brow, playful challenge in her eyes. "Or a lover too?"

"Could I say no...?" Bharat's answer was a deep suck on her upper lip, sealing the truth between them as their bodies pressed closer, the world narrowing to the pulse of shared breath and unspoken promises.