10-01-2026, 12:07 PM
The ceiling fan's rhythmic whir pulled Devika from restless dreams at half past two in the morning. She lay tangled in her nightgown, sheets twisted around her legs, her body still humming with residual arousal that sleep had failed to quiet.
Pathan's face lingered in her mind—not the crude boy who leered at her in corridors, but the version she'd constructed in fantasy. Eager. Hungry. Controllable.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen's harsh light making her squint in the darkness. Her thumb moved through apps without conscious thought until she found herself staring at WhatsApp.
The green dot glowed beside Pathan's name.
Online. At this hour.
Devika's heart hammered against her ribs as she opened the chat window. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, rational thought warring with the ache between her thighs that masturbation had only temporarily satisfied.
This is insane, she told herself. Don't do it.
But her fingers were already typing.
Devika: Hi
She hit send before courage could abandon her, then immediately regretted it. What was she thinking? Messaging a student at two-thirty in the morning? The implications alone—
Three dots appeared almost instantly. Pathan was typing.
Pathan: ❤️
The heart emoji burned on her screen like an accusation. Heat flooded Devika's cheeks even in the privacy of her dark bedroom. She typed quickly, fingers trembling.
Devika: I'm your teacher. Don't send such emojis.
A pause. Then:
Pathan: Sorry ma'am. But I can't believe you messaged me. That too at this time. Why?
Devika bit her lip, considering her response. She couldn't admit the truth—that she'd been touching herself while thinking of him, that loneliness and desire had driven her to this reckless contact.
Devika: Simply couldn't sleep. So just checked my phone.
The lie felt transparent even as she typed it. She added quickly:
Devika: Why are you still online? Chatting with your girlfriend?
The mockery in the question surprised her—a flirtation she hadn't intended but couldn't take back.
Pathan: I don't have any girlfriend.
Devika: ?
Her shock emoji sent before she could reconsider. Why did his admission please her? What did it matter if Pathan was single?
Devika: Then what are you doing awake at this hour?
The three dots appeared and disappeared several times, as if he was typing and deleting responses. Finally:
Pathan: Watching porn movies.
Devika stared at the message, scandalized yet unsurprised. Of course that's what he was doing. Young men like Pathan—crude, oversexed, constantly leering at women's bodies—this was exactly how they spent their lonely nights.
Just like she'd spent hers. Touching herself. Fantasizing.
The parallel made her stomach clench with uncomfortable recognition.
Devika: ? Don't watch those movies. They're not good for you.
Pathan: I'll try, ma'am.
The meekness in his response felt calculated, as if he knew exactly what she wanted to hear. Devika imagined him on the other end—lying in his hostel bed, phone in one hand while the other...
She shook her head sharply, dispelling the image.
Devika: Good night, Pathan.
There. Conversation ended. She could put the phone down, go back to sleep, pretend this midnight contact had never happened.
Pathan: Good night, ma'am.
Devika set the phone on the nightstand and closed her eyes, willing sleep to claim her. But her mind raced too fast, thoughts spinning in dizzying circles. The ache between her thighs had returned with renewed intensity, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
Ten minutes crawled by. Fifteen.
She grabbed the phone again, checking WhatsApp with trembling fingers. The green dot still glowed beside Pathan's name.
Still online. Still awake. Probably still watching those videos.
Her fingers moved before rational thought could intervene.
Devika: Pathan
The reply came within seconds.
Pathan: Yes ma'am, please tell
The formal politeness contrasted sharply with their earlier exchange. He was being careful now, respectful, giving her space to lead wherever this conversation might go.
Devika's mouth went dry. She'd opened this door but hadn't prepared what to say beyond it. Her mind scrambled for an excuse, a legitimate reason to continue messaging her student at three in the morning.
Devika: Tomorrow I need to visit some places in Pune. Do you know any good spots?
There. Innocent enough. Just a teacher asking a local student for recommendations.
Pathan: Shaniwar Wada, Aga Khan Palace, Sinhagad Fort. Or if you want nature, Pawna Lake is beautiful.
Pawna Lake. The name stirred something in Devika's memory—hadn't she seen photos online? A serene body of water surrounded by hills, perfect for quiet contemplation away from the city's chaos.
Devika: Tell me about Pawna Lake.
Pathan: It's about 60km from here. Very peaceful. The water reflects the sky like a mirror. In evening the sunset is amazing. There are camping spots too if people want to stay overnight.
Devika read his message twice, her heart rate accelerating with each word. Sixty kilometers. Far from the college. Far from prying eyes and whispered gossip.
Her next words formed with dangerous clarity.
Devika: My scooter is at the repair shop. I can't go.
She hit send and immediately regretted the transparency of her statement. It was too obvious—the problem presented with no solution, an invitation disguised as an obstacle.
The three dots appeared and disappeared multiple times. Pathan was being cautious, she realized. He understood the game but didn't want to overstep.
Finally:
Pathan: If you don't mind, I can drop you there on my bike.
Devika stared at the message, pulse thundering in her ears. This was it—the line she'd been circling since the conversation began. Cross it, and there would be no pretending this was innocent teacher-student interaction.
Devika: It won't be nice. A teacher going somewhere with a student. People might talk.
Pathan: Ok ma'am. I understand.
The acceptance stung more than she'd expected. Part of her had wanted him to push, to insist, to take the decision out of her hands. Instead he'd respected her boundary, leaving her to sit with the want that gnawed at her insides.
Minutes ticked by. Devika lay in the darkness, phone clutched against her chest, fighting a battle she'd already lost.
What harm could it do? Just a trip to a lake. A brief escape from the suffocating walls of her apartment and the judgmental stares at college. Pathan had been studying hard, his grades improving. This could be... a reward. Yes. A reward for his academic efforts.
The rationalization settled over her guilt like a blanket, smothering objections.
Devika: Ok.
One word. Two letters. The heaviest message she'd ever sent.
Pathan: ?
The happy emoji appeared immediately, boyish enthusiasm breaking through his careful politeness.
Devika: Be ready in the evening. Around 4pm.
Pathan: Yes ma'am! I'll pick you up from your apartment?
Devika: No. Near the college main gate. Don't tell anyone.
Pathan: I won't tell anyone, ma'am. Promise.
Devika: Good night, Pathan.
Pathan: Good night ma'am. Sweet dreams.
Devika set the phone down with shaking hands. The deed was done. Tomorrow evening she would climb onto Pathan's motorcycle and ride sixty kilometers to a secluded lake where no one from college would see them.
Just sightseeing, she told herself firmly. Nothing inappropriate. Just a teacher helping a student feel appreciated for his improved performance.
But as she pulled the sheets up to her chin and closed her eyes, Devika knew she was lying. The wetness between her thighs, the racing of her heart, the way her body already anticipated tomorrow's possibilities—these told the truth her mind refused to acknowledge.
Tomorrow she would cross another line. And unlike the drunken night with Vishnu and Dattu that she could blame on alcohol and emotional vulnerability, this would be premeditated. Calculated.
A choice made in full awareness of its consequences.
Sleep finally claimed her in the early hours of morning, her dreams filled with motorcycle rides and sunset-painted water and hands exploring her body in places where no one could hear her moans.
Across the city, in a cramped hostel room that smelled of sweat and cheap cigarettes, Pathan stared at his phone screen with disbelieving joy.
Devika had messaged him. At three in the morning. And agreed to spend tomorrow evening alone with him at Pawna Lake.
His cock strained against his shorts, hard and aching from the porn he'd been watching before her unexpected contact. But now he ignored the videos still playing on mute, his entire focus on the chat window.
She wanted him. The realization sent electricity through his veins. All the careful studying, the restraint when he wanted to grab her in hallways, the patient waiting while Vishnu got to touch her—it was finally paying off.
Vishnu had bragged about their night together, the details graphic enough to make Pathan's jealousy burn hot and fierce. His friend had fucked their biology professor. Had explored her body. Had made her moan.
But now it was Pathan's turn.
Tomorrow at Pawna Lake, with hours of isolation and a willing Devika, he would claim what Vishnu had already tasted. Would prove himself just as capable of satisfying the beautiful Kerala professor who haunted his every waking thought.
He saved their entire conversation with trembling fingers, screen-shotting each message as evidence this wasn't a dream. Then he set an alarm for early morning—he'd need time to prepare, to clean his bike, to make sure everything was perfect for their trip.
As he finally drifted toward sleep, Pathan's last conscious thought was of Devika's body beneath him at the lakeside, sunset painting her brown skin gold as he pushed inside her for the first time.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be his.
Pathan's face lingered in her mind—not the crude boy who leered at her in corridors, but the version she'd constructed in fantasy. Eager. Hungry. Controllable.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen's harsh light making her squint in the darkness. Her thumb moved through apps without conscious thought until she found herself staring at WhatsApp.
The green dot glowed beside Pathan's name.
Online. At this hour.
Devika's heart hammered against her ribs as she opened the chat window. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, rational thought warring with the ache between her thighs that masturbation had only temporarily satisfied.
This is insane, she told herself. Don't do it.
But her fingers were already typing.
Devika: Hi
She hit send before courage could abandon her, then immediately regretted it. What was she thinking? Messaging a student at two-thirty in the morning? The implications alone—
Three dots appeared almost instantly. Pathan was typing.
Pathan: ❤️
The heart emoji burned on her screen like an accusation. Heat flooded Devika's cheeks even in the privacy of her dark bedroom. She typed quickly, fingers trembling.
Devika: I'm your teacher. Don't send such emojis.
A pause. Then:
Pathan: Sorry ma'am. But I can't believe you messaged me. That too at this time. Why?
Devika bit her lip, considering her response. She couldn't admit the truth—that she'd been touching herself while thinking of him, that loneliness and desire had driven her to this reckless contact.
Devika: Simply couldn't sleep. So just checked my phone.
The lie felt transparent even as she typed it. She added quickly:
Devika: Why are you still online? Chatting with your girlfriend?
The mockery in the question surprised her—a flirtation she hadn't intended but couldn't take back.
Pathan: I don't have any girlfriend.
Devika: ?
Her shock emoji sent before she could reconsider. Why did his admission please her? What did it matter if Pathan was single?
Devika: Then what are you doing awake at this hour?
The three dots appeared and disappeared several times, as if he was typing and deleting responses. Finally:
Pathan: Watching porn movies.
Devika stared at the message, scandalized yet unsurprised. Of course that's what he was doing. Young men like Pathan—crude, oversexed, constantly leering at women's bodies—this was exactly how they spent their lonely nights.
Just like she'd spent hers. Touching herself. Fantasizing.
The parallel made her stomach clench with uncomfortable recognition.
Devika: ? Don't watch those movies. They're not good for you.
Pathan: I'll try, ma'am.
The meekness in his response felt calculated, as if he knew exactly what she wanted to hear. Devika imagined him on the other end—lying in his hostel bed, phone in one hand while the other...
She shook her head sharply, dispelling the image.
Devika: Good night, Pathan.
There. Conversation ended. She could put the phone down, go back to sleep, pretend this midnight contact had never happened.
Pathan: Good night, ma'am.
Devika set the phone on the nightstand and closed her eyes, willing sleep to claim her. But her mind raced too fast, thoughts spinning in dizzying circles. The ache between her thighs had returned with renewed intensity, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
Ten minutes crawled by. Fifteen.
She grabbed the phone again, checking WhatsApp with trembling fingers. The green dot still glowed beside Pathan's name.
Still online. Still awake. Probably still watching those videos.
Her fingers moved before rational thought could intervene.
Devika: Pathan
The reply came within seconds.
Pathan: Yes ma'am, please tell
The formal politeness contrasted sharply with their earlier exchange. He was being careful now, respectful, giving her space to lead wherever this conversation might go.
Devika's mouth went dry. She'd opened this door but hadn't prepared what to say beyond it. Her mind scrambled for an excuse, a legitimate reason to continue messaging her student at three in the morning.
Devika: Tomorrow I need to visit some places in Pune. Do you know any good spots?
There. Innocent enough. Just a teacher asking a local student for recommendations.
Pathan: Shaniwar Wada, Aga Khan Palace, Sinhagad Fort. Or if you want nature, Pawna Lake is beautiful.
Pawna Lake. The name stirred something in Devika's memory—hadn't she seen photos online? A serene body of water surrounded by hills, perfect for quiet contemplation away from the city's chaos.
Devika: Tell me about Pawna Lake.
Pathan: It's about 60km from here. Very peaceful. The water reflects the sky like a mirror. In evening the sunset is amazing. There are camping spots too if people want to stay overnight.
Devika read his message twice, her heart rate accelerating with each word. Sixty kilometers. Far from the college. Far from prying eyes and whispered gossip.
Her next words formed with dangerous clarity.
Devika: My scooter is at the repair shop. I can't go.
She hit send and immediately regretted the transparency of her statement. It was too obvious—the problem presented with no solution, an invitation disguised as an obstacle.
The three dots appeared and disappeared multiple times. Pathan was being cautious, she realized. He understood the game but didn't want to overstep.
Finally:
Pathan: If you don't mind, I can drop you there on my bike.
Devika stared at the message, pulse thundering in her ears. This was it—the line she'd been circling since the conversation began. Cross it, and there would be no pretending this was innocent teacher-student interaction.
Devika: It won't be nice. A teacher going somewhere with a student. People might talk.
Pathan: Ok ma'am. I understand.
The acceptance stung more than she'd expected. Part of her had wanted him to push, to insist, to take the decision out of her hands. Instead he'd respected her boundary, leaving her to sit with the want that gnawed at her insides.
Minutes ticked by. Devika lay in the darkness, phone clutched against her chest, fighting a battle she'd already lost.
What harm could it do? Just a trip to a lake. A brief escape from the suffocating walls of her apartment and the judgmental stares at college. Pathan had been studying hard, his grades improving. This could be... a reward. Yes. A reward for his academic efforts.
The rationalization settled over her guilt like a blanket, smothering objections.
Devika: Ok.
One word. Two letters. The heaviest message she'd ever sent.
Pathan: ?
The happy emoji appeared immediately, boyish enthusiasm breaking through his careful politeness.
Devika: Be ready in the evening. Around 4pm.
Pathan: Yes ma'am! I'll pick you up from your apartment?
Devika: No. Near the college main gate. Don't tell anyone.
Pathan: I won't tell anyone, ma'am. Promise.
Devika: Good night, Pathan.
Pathan: Good night ma'am. Sweet dreams.
Devika set the phone down with shaking hands. The deed was done. Tomorrow evening she would climb onto Pathan's motorcycle and ride sixty kilometers to a secluded lake where no one from college would see them.
Just sightseeing, she told herself firmly. Nothing inappropriate. Just a teacher helping a student feel appreciated for his improved performance.
But as she pulled the sheets up to her chin and closed her eyes, Devika knew she was lying. The wetness between her thighs, the racing of her heart, the way her body already anticipated tomorrow's possibilities—these told the truth her mind refused to acknowledge.
Tomorrow she would cross another line. And unlike the drunken night with Vishnu and Dattu that she could blame on alcohol and emotional vulnerability, this would be premeditated. Calculated.
A choice made in full awareness of its consequences.
Sleep finally claimed her in the early hours of morning, her dreams filled with motorcycle rides and sunset-painted water and hands exploring her body in places where no one could hear her moans.
Across the city, in a cramped hostel room that smelled of sweat and cheap cigarettes, Pathan stared at his phone screen with disbelieving joy.
Devika had messaged him. At three in the morning. And agreed to spend tomorrow evening alone with him at Pawna Lake.
His cock strained against his shorts, hard and aching from the porn he'd been watching before her unexpected contact. But now he ignored the videos still playing on mute, his entire focus on the chat window.
She wanted him. The realization sent electricity through his veins. All the careful studying, the restraint when he wanted to grab her in hallways, the patient waiting while Vishnu got to touch her—it was finally paying off.
Vishnu had bragged about their night together, the details graphic enough to make Pathan's jealousy burn hot and fierce. His friend had fucked their biology professor. Had explored her body. Had made her moan.
But now it was Pathan's turn.
Tomorrow at Pawna Lake, with hours of isolation and a willing Devika, he would claim what Vishnu had already tasted. Would prove himself just as capable of satisfying the beautiful Kerala professor who haunted his every waking thought.
He saved their entire conversation with trembling fingers, screen-shotting each message as evidence this wasn't a dream. Then he set an alarm for early morning—he'd need time to prepare, to clean his bike, to make sure everything was perfect for their trip.
As he finally drifted toward sleep, Pathan's last conscious thought was of Devika's body beneath him at the lakeside, sunset painting her brown skin gold as he pushed inside her for the first time.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be his.
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