Adultery Life of Avi Singh

[lee.jae.han]

## Update 141: Sital's Confession and Sweta Didi's Heartbreak (Avi and Sital)

The day after our intense session, Sital and I didn't get an immediate chance to have sex. The village schedule and the constant presence of family made finding privacy a challenge. However, later that same day, Sital took the risk and came to my house herself, clearly driven by a deep, urgent desire that matched my own. We quickly managed to find the necessary privacy, seeking refuge in the same guarded room.

The moment the lock clicked on the door to my room, the entire space became focused on one thing: Sital's secret presence and the need for absolute silence.

We moved without talking. I pulled Sital close and started a kiss. It was deep and desperate, but we controlled the sound, letting only the wet, soft suction of our mouths be heard—a sound that wouldn't travel through the door.

We undressed fast but quietly. We focused on the soft whisper of fabric, avoiding any sudden movements. I pulled a blanket over the mattress to muffle any bumps the bed might make during the action.

We started with her mouth on my cock. I focused on controlling my breath, letting my gasps only hit her hair, not the open air. Her sucking was deep and rhythmic, and she managed the pleasure with complete silence.

I then moved her onto the bed for penetration. I applied oil to my lunď and her chooť quickly. To prevent noise, I entered her slowly, inch by painful inch, letting her body stretch without any loud tearing sound or sudden gasp of pain from her.

Once I was fully inside, the thrusting began. It was a deep, sustained, rhythmic motion, not a loud, frantic pounding. I controlled my hips precisely, making sure the only sound was the wet, internal slosh of our bodies meeting. Sital had to be silent, too: she bit down hard on her own arm or wrist, turning her moans into silent, shaking movements of pleasure.

For the gaand, I shifted her position and quickly applied more oil. I entered her gaand using the same slow, careful method, knowing the tightness required extreme slowness to prevent a shout. Once inside, the thrusts were shallow, building slowly, always focused on the absence of sound. I used one hand to firmly cover the point where her butt cheeks met, stopping any friction-slap sound from getting out.

The climax was managed with the same desperate secrecy. As the pressure became too much, I whispered just one word into her ear: "Now." Her body locked up, but her final release was met only with my harsh, swallowed gasp and the intense, silent tremor that ran through her body.

We lay completely still for a full minute, listening intently to the quiet house. Our secret union had been successful, remaining undetected by anyone outside the room.

---

The day after that, as usual, I went to Pooja Bua's house. Everyone was busy with their own routines, and I immediately started playing with Raj. But I noticed something was off: Sweta Didi looked intensely sad today. She not only refused to play with us but also wasn't talking to anyone. Sweta Didi was sitting alone, staring out the window, and I could see the unmistakable shine of tears in her eyes. I walked over and quietly asked Sweta Didi what was wrong. She just shook her head. "You play, Avi; I have a bad headache. I want to rest for a while," she whispered, not looking away from the glass.

I thought it wouldn't be right to press her for answers now. I went back and started playing with Komal, but while playing, all I could think about was Sweta Didi's sorrowful face.

Later, Kavita, Komal, and Leena all went home. But I lingered. I knew I wouldn't feel right until I found out what had happened to Sweta Didi. After playing, Raj went to sleep with Pooja Bua in her room. I took Sital firmly by the hand and led her into Raj’s room, closing the door behind us.

Sital looked at me, her eyes curious, and nodded toward the door. "Avi, what happened? Sweta Didi isn't asleep yet; she's still sitting in the living room."

"I need to talk to you about something very important right now," I said, my voice low and serious.

"What is it?" she replied, crossing her arms, looking serious.

"Why is Sweta Didi so sad today? What has happened to her?" I asked, worried about her pain.

Sital shrugged her shoulders and looked around the room vaguely. "How would I know what's wrong with her?" she answered dismissively, her eyes avoiding mine.

I moved closer, narrowing my eyes. "Do you really, truly not know anything?" I pressed her, my voice low and challenging.

She met my gaze for a fraction of a second, then quickly looked away, inspecting a spot on the floor. "I told you I don't know anything," she maintained, folding her arms tighter.

"Swear on me right now that you don't know anything about this sadness," I insisted, trying to use our intimacy to break her resistance.

She snapped her head up, a hurt look on her face. "Avi, why don't you trust me? I'm telling you I don't know," she retorted, her voice sharp.

"You know everything that happened to Sweta Didi, and you are deliberately choosing not to tell me," I stated flatly, a sense of betrayal creeping into my voice.

"I told you I don't know anything!" she repeated, her voice rising slightly in panic.

"You live with Sweta Didi. You two are more like best friends than sisters," I argued, my frustration mounting, waving my hand slightly. "There is absolutely no way Sweta Didi hasn't told you something. If you love me, tell me. Otherwise, I will assume that you don't care about me at all."

Sital's anger melted away, replaced by a soft resignation. "If I tell you everything, what are you going to do?" she asked, her voice softer now, her eyes looking tired.

"Whatever I decide to do, you just tell me what has happened to Sweta Didi," I said, my resolve firm, taking a step toward her.

She fidgeted with the hem of her kurta. "I told you about a friend of mine who was cheated on by a boy, remember?" she finally confessed, her shoulders dropping, looking down.

"Yes, I remember that," I said, my heart pounding with sudden dread, feeling a chill run through me.

"That friend is Sweta Didi," she whispered, looking down at the floor, her voice barely audible.

"What? Does that mean a video of Sweta Didi was secretly made?" I asked, shocked by the possibility, my voice hushed.

Sital quickly shook her head. "No, not that kind of betrayal. I told you about two friends. One had a video made, and the other's boyfriend left her for another girl," she explained, her voice trembling slightly. "The boy Sweta Didi loved with all her heart, he was caught with someone else..."

"You mean... what we do..." I stammered, my mind racing as I tried to connect the intensity of love to betrayal.

"Yes, Sweta Didi caught them kissing and touching," she revealed, her eyes now tearing up for her sister.

"Did Sweta Didi truly love that boy?" I asked, a lump forming in my throat for the girl who was like a sister to me.

"Yes, Avi. She would have given her life for him. But that boy simply made a fool of Sweta Didi’s love," she said, her voice heavy with sorrow, shaking her head slowly.

"Tell me everything, Sital. From the very beginning. When did she start loving him? When did the boy betray her? Everything," I commanded, needing to fully grasp the situation, gripping her shoulders gently.

She fidgeted with the hem of her kurta. "Sweta Didi first told me she loved a boy named Rohan," Sital began, taking a deep breath. "But I found out the complete, real story by reading her personal diary. Sweta Didi has a habit of writing a diary every day," she revealed, lowering her voice further.

"What did you find out in the diary?" I asked, hanging on to her every word, leaning in close.

"This started when she was in the 10th grade. Sweta Didi and Rohan studied together and quickly became very close friends. They always helped each other with homework and were always together at college," she continued, laying out the foundation of the relationship, nodding slowly. "They didn't even realize when their three-month friendship naturally turned into deep love. One day, Rohan officially proposed to her. Sweta Didi loved Rohan just as much. She said yes immediately," she explained.

"Their love became famous throughout the college. There was never a day when they didn't meet or talk for hours. Sweta Didi and Rohan loved each other deeply, but they were innocent; they never thought about a physical relationship. They only kissed each other, nothing beyond that," Sital explained the purity of their relationship, her voice steady.

"When Rohan got high marks in the 12th-grade exam, he wanted to do engineering, just like his older brother. Rohan got admission to an engineering college," Sital recounted. "But Sweta Didi did not get admission. Sweta Didi decided to do a B.Sc. instead. Rohan, completely in love, refused to do engineering and surprisingly took admission in B.Sc. right alongside Sweta Didi. That’s how strong and serious their love was," she continued, emphasizing the dedication. "Their intense love continued without a hitch in the college as well."

"Three months ago, a teachers' strike temporarily shut down the college. Despite the strike, Rohan and Sweta Didi agreed to go to college to use the library and study together. One day, I was sick, and Sweta Didi went to the college late. She started looking for Rohan but couldn't find him anywhere in their usual spots. Then she went to their old, favorite classroom. In that empty classroom, Rohan was kissing a different girl from his own class, a girl she had never seen before," Sital explained, her voice cracking with the pain of the memory, looking away again. "Sweta Didi was completely shocked and devastated to see this betrayal. She slapped Rohan hard across the face and instantly broke up with him."

"After that day, she only went to college to give her final exams," Sital finished the main story. "When you came to the village, she went back to the city college. She is going to change colleges and went to collect her documents, but she didn't get them before the results were announced. This entire history is the reason why Sweta Didi has been so sad for months."

"But, Sital, today... today there were actual tears in her eyes, after all this time," I insisted, the image of Sweta Didi's face stinging me, my voice full of pain.

Sital looked down, her voice barely a whisper. "Today is Rohan's birthday," she said quietly.

"Is she crying because she is still remembering Rohan?" I asked, my heart sinking with sympathy.

"Yes," Sital confirmed simply, nodding sadly.

"Have you ever met Rohan? I mean, before this all happened?" I asked, looking confused.

"Yes, and what's more, Avi, you've seen Rohan, too," Sital said, her words surprising me deeply, her eyes widening slightly.

"Me? When did I see him? I've only been here a short time," I asked, confused, furrowing my brow.

"Think back to the day you first came to the city, at the mall. Remember the boy who was bothering Sweta Didi aggressively in the crowd?" she reminded me, giving me the final piece of the puzzle, watching my face.

My eyes widened as the memory hit me. "I remember now! So that arrogant boy who wouldn't leave her alone... that was Rohan," I said, the betrayal suddenly feeling personal, my fists clenching slightly.

"Yes," Sital confirmed with a simple nod.

Just as we were talking, a voice called out: Sweta Didi was calling me.

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