19-10-2025, 11:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 24-10-2025, 11:00 AM by lee.jae.han. Edited 6 times in total. Edited 6 times in total.)
## Update 8: The Rubber Band Theory and the Bitter Taste (Avi and Madam)
In the heat of the afternoon, I walked toward Madam's house. She lived alone, since her husband and son were away in the city. Madam was stunningly beautiful. Her figure was full, her breasts like ripe mangoes—a thought that made my mind snag every time I saw her. I guessed her age to be around 35, and I truly had no words left to describe the magnetism she possessed.
I knocked on her gate. After a short pause, the door opened. She stood there wearing a nightgown, a garment that did little to hide the shape of her body. Her breasts seemed to settle just a little lower than they had in her starched saree, and I was completely, shamelessly captivated. I stared, my mind going utterly blank, until the sound of my name, sharp and low, made me jump.
Madam hissed. “Avi.”
I snapped out of the daze, a sudden, hot flush of embarrassment spreading across my face. *I mentally cursed myself. Ever since I had seen that first fucking yesterday, my entire perspective on women had changed.*
She welcomed me inside with a relaxed posture and walked into the kitchen to get me some water. I stood frozen, fighting the intense urge to look at her again.
Madam returned with a glass of water, which I drank quickly, trying to regain my composure. I reached into my bag to take out my textbooks, a mechanical gesture of normalcy, but she stopped me with a simple hand gesture.
Madam shook her head, her voice soft but final. “Avi, you can put your books back in your bag.”
My brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “But Madam, how will I study if my books are in my bag?”
She tilted her head, a hint of melancholy entering her expression. “I’m sorry, Avi, but I get bored being alone at home. That’s why I called you here.”
I insisted, holding onto the excuse for my presence. “But what about my studies?”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping lower. “You can study at home.”
“But you said you would teach me Math...”
Madam pressed her lips together. “Listen, Avi. You’re a smart boy. You can study on your own. My real reason for calling you was to have some company.”
I trailed off, the words feeling empty even to me. “But my studies...”
She asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Why are you so obsessed with studies? Wait, I’ll show you something.”
She reached up and pulled a black rubber band from her hair, letting her thick, dark hair spill over her shoulders. “Look, Avi, I have a rubber band. Imagine this is you.”
She pulled the band taut between her fingers, stretching it thin and vibrating. “See how long it has become? If I pull it any more, it will break.”
She released the tension slightly, her eyes holding mine. “Your life is the same. You have a limit. If you cross it, you’ll have problems. I’m not saying crossing your limits is always a bad thing; sometimes you can gain something from it. But most of the time, you lose something.”
She finished, her voice softening. “You’re a bright boy. It’s up to you how much you learn. I’m not saying you don’t have the ability to learn. You just need to bring it out yourself. This isn’t just about math, is it?”
“I think I understand, a little bit,” I said, her lecture feeling less about college and more about the boundaries I was currently testing in my head.
She smiled fully now. “Good. So from now on, you come to my house every afternoon to talk to me.”
“Okay, Madam, I will come,” I replied, the decision feeling far heavier than a simple agreement to visit.
She chuckled, gesturing toward the kitchen. “This lecture has made my throat dry. I’ll go make some coffee.”
“Okay, Madam.”
She came back a few minutes later, holding a steaming mug. “Thank you, Madam.” I stared at the dark liquid, unsure of what to do.
She asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you drinking it?”
I admitted, feeling small. “I’ve never had coffee before, Madam.”
Madam placed the mug firmly in my hands. “Avi, you have to do something for the first time in your life. It will be a little difficult at first, but you’ll learn to enjoy it.”
I took a sip. The first taste was a shock—bitter and strangely intense—but after a few more sips, a sharp warmth spread through me, and I began to enjoy the unfamiliar taste. *This wasn’t just about coffee.*
---
In the heat of the afternoon, I walked toward Madam's house. She lived alone, since her husband and son were away in the city. Madam was stunningly beautiful. Her figure was full, her breasts like ripe mangoes—a thought that made my mind snag every time I saw her. I guessed her age to be around 35, and I truly had no words left to describe the magnetism she possessed.
I knocked on her gate. After a short pause, the door opened. She stood there wearing a nightgown, a garment that did little to hide the shape of her body. Her breasts seemed to settle just a little lower than they had in her starched saree, and I was completely, shamelessly captivated. I stared, my mind going utterly blank, until the sound of my name, sharp and low, made me jump.
Madam hissed. “Avi.”
I snapped out of the daze, a sudden, hot flush of embarrassment spreading across my face. *I mentally cursed myself. Ever since I had seen that first fucking yesterday, my entire perspective on women had changed.*
She welcomed me inside with a relaxed posture and walked into the kitchen to get me some water. I stood frozen, fighting the intense urge to look at her again.
Madam returned with a glass of water, which I drank quickly, trying to regain my composure. I reached into my bag to take out my textbooks, a mechanical gesture of normalcy, but she stopped me with a simple hand gesture.
Madam shook her head, her voice soft but final. “Avi, you can put your books back in your bag.”
My brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “But Madam, how will I study if my books are in my bag?”
She tilted her head, a hint of melancholy entering her expression. “I’m sorry, Avi, but I get bored being alone at home. That’s why I called you here.”
I insisted, holding onto the excuse for my presence. “But what about my studies?”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping lower. “You can study at home.”
“But you said you would teach me Math...”
Madam pressed her lips together. “Listen, Avi. You’re a smart boy. You can study on your own. My real reason for calling you was to have some company.”
I trailed off, the words feeling empty even to me. “But my studies...”
She asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Why are you so obsessed with studies? Wait, I’ll show you something.”
She reached up and pulled a black rubber band from her hair, letting her thick, dark hair spill over her shoulders. “Look, Avi, I have a rubber band. Imagine this is you.”
She pulled the band taut between her fingers, stretching it thin and vibrating. “See how long it has become? If I pull it any more, it will break.”
She released the tension slightly, her eyes holding mine. “Your life is the same. You have a limit. If you cross it, you’ll have problems. I’m not saying crossing your limits is always a bad thing; sometimes you can gain something from it. But most of the time, you lose something.”
She finished, her voice softening. “You’re a bright boy. It’s up to you how much you learn. I’m not saying you don’t have the ability to learn. You just need to bring it out yourself. This isn’t just about math, is it?”
“I think I understand, a little bit,” I said, her lecture feeling less about college and more about the boundaries I was currently testing in my head.
She smiled fully now. “Good. So from now on, you come to my house every afternoon to talk to me.”
“Okay, Madam, I will come,” I replied, the decision feeling far heavier than a simple agreement to visit.
She chuckled, gesturing toward the kitchen. “This lecture has made my throat dry. I’ll go make some coffee.”
“Okay, Madam.”
She came back a few minutes later, holding a steaming mug. “Thank you, Madam.” I stared at the dark liquid, unsure of what to do.
She asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you drinking it?”
I admitted, feeling small. “I’ve never had coffee before, Madam.”
Madam placed the mug firmly in my hands. “Avi, you have to do something for the first time in your life. It will be a little difficult at first, but you’ll learn to enjoy it.”
I took a sip. The first taste was a shock—bitter and strangely intense—but after a few more sips, a sharp warmth spread through me, and I began to enjoy the unfamiliar taste. *This wasn’t just about coffee.*
---
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