26-01-2026, 04:55 PM
The narrow road to La Croce twisted through the dense night forest, swallowed by an absolute, velvety blackness. Only the cold pinpricks of northern stars pierced the sky overhead, and the twin beams of the car's headlights carved pale tunnels through the darkness.
Inside the car, silence had reigned since they left the party. Gautam kept both hands steady on the wheel, but his eyes flicked repeatedly to the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Bharath held Geetha's hand tightly, his thumb moving in slow, unconscious circles over her knuckles. Neither had spoken for long minutes.
Then Bharath broke the quiet, voice light and mischievous.
"Repeat 'Miss Lund John' fast."
Geetha turned her face toward him, one eyebrow raised. "Why?"
"Just say it. I'll tell you after."
She sighed, playing along. "Lund John… Lund Ja… Lund Ja… Lund Ja… Lan-ja… Lanja… Chiii!"
(Lanja means slut/whore in Telugu)
The word landed and exploded into laughter. Geetha clapped a hand over her mouth too late; Gautam’s shoulders shook as he tried—and failed—to keep his eyes on the road. All three of them dissolved into helpless, hiccupping giggles that filled the small cabin.
"Dirty mind," Geetha scolded through her laughter, swatting Bharath’s arm. "You filthy boy."
Gautam, still chuckling, managed to say between breaths, "It’s wrong, to make fun of someone’s name like that."
"Just a joke, Sir," Bharath grinned, completely unrepentant.
He fished his phone from his pocket and angled the screen toward Geetha. "Miss, let me show you something."
Before she could protest, his thumbs were already flying across the keyboard. He typed *Lanja* into Google Maps and hit search.
Geetha’s eyes widened as the result loaded: a small coastal town near Ratnagiri, Maharashtra.
"Orey!" She slapped her palm to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. "Chi… how do you even know this exists?"
Bharath’s grin turned wicked. "Once Harish and I went on a swear-word treasure hunt. Found all kinds of treasures… hahaha!"
She grabbed the back of his neck and gave him a solid thwack between the shoulder blades. "You boys have zero shame. And now you’re showing me? Crazy idiot."
"Abba, okay, okay—sorry!" He raised both hands in mock surrender. "But look—same sound, completely different meaning. In Hindi, 'lund' means dick. In Maharashtra, Lanja is just a place name. And in Telugu…" He let the implication hang, eyebrows dancing.
"Chi! Enough of your trash talk." Geetha tried to sound stern, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching.
Bharath leaned in, voice dropping to a playful murmur. "Okay… I’ll stop." Instead of retreating, he dipped his face into the curve of her neck and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there.
Geetha sucked in a soft breath. "Mm… move."
He didn’t. His tongue traced a lazy line along her skin.
She threaded fingers into his hair, half-caressing, half-scolding. "Don’t *lick*—the saliva will stick."
"Your necklace is poking my cheek," he mumbled against her throat.
"You have no sense at all. What is this nonsense in the car? And he’s *right there*—move." She pushed at his shoulder, voice dropping to an urgent whisper.
In the driver’s seat Gautam deliberately turned his face toward the side window, jaw tight.
Bharath pulled back just enough to speak clearly. "Sir, I wish I knew how to drive. Then *I* could sit in front and watch you two romance in the back."
Geetha and Gautam both froze. The casual audacity of the sentence hung in the air like smoke.
Geetha recovered first. She reached over and rapped her knuckles lightly against Bharath’s forehead. "Don’t you have any shame talking to us like that?"
Bharath only grinned wider. "Miss… what happened this morning?"
Geetha’s lips pressed into a thin line. Gautam’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as the memory flickered behind his eyes.
"You’re younger," Gautam said quietly. "Talking like this isn’t right."
Bharath leaned forward until his face was level with the driver’s seat. "Sir… didn’t you come to our room this morning for a little 'morning fuck' with Miss? I was awake. We’re all being very open now, aren’t we?"
Gautam exhaled through his nose. "Yes… but if you’re going to be *this* direct—"
"If I am, it’s fine," Bharath cut in gently. "You were the one who said we should leave whatever happens here, *here*. At least while I’m still around… I want to be open."
The logic landed, simple and disarming. Gautam stared at the road a long moment.
"…Fine."
Bharath’s eyes lit up. "Can we park somewhere in the jungle along this road?"
Geetha immediately seized his ear and twisted. "Why? What mad idea now?"
Bharath winced but didn’t pull away. "I’ll sit in the driver’s seat… and watch you two have sex in the back."
Geetha’s hand flew to cover her mouth. Gautam let out a short, startled bark of laughter.
"You don’t need porn apps anymore, do you?" Gautam said, shaking his head. "You’re already romancing your own teacher without a shred of shame."
Bharath’s expression sobered for the first time. "Sir… honestly? I was terrified thinking what you’d do if Miss ever told you I went down on her."
Gautam’s gaze flicked to the mirror—sharp, almost warning. "Don’t talk about that. I mean it. No discussion."
Bharath nodded quickly. "Sorry, Sir." A beat. Then, softer: "But… can I romance Miss in front of you?"
Gautam kept his eyes fixed on the ribbon of road illuminated ahead.
"There’s no need to ask."
With Gautam’s silent, heavy-hearted consent, Bharath leaned back against the window, pulling Geetha with him. He supported the weight of her head in his palm, his breath hot as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. When his lips pressed against her skin, Geetha let out a soft, sharp breath.
"Ooh… not now, you dog," she murmured, though her body betrayed her protest as she leaned into him. "Wait until we’re at the house."
Bharath didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice a low, jagged whisper in her ear. "I feel like fucking you in this car right in front of him, Milky…" The words were punctuated by a sharp nip at her shoulder.
"Ah… don't think like that," Geetha chided softly, though she reached up to press a lingering kiss to his forehead.
From the driver's seat, Gautam caught the movement of her lips in the rearview mirror. He couldn't hear the words, but the intimacy was loud.
"Will you come to me tonight?" Bharath asked, his eyes locked onto hers.
"I'll try," she replied.
As if on cue, they both shifted their gaze to the mirror, meeting Gautam’s eyes. He was caught between two worlds—one eye on the road and the other on the reflection of his wife in the arms of her student. The weight of their shared stare sent a jolt of illicit excitement through the backseat. Despite the hollow ache in Gautam’s chest, a dark, involuntary curiosity took hold. He watched, transfixed, as Bharath’s mouth found Geetha’s, his kiss so forceful and hungry that it smeared her rose-colored lipstick across her face.
Geetha watched her husband’s reaction out of the corner of her eye, a faint, intoxicating smile playing on her lips as she kissed Bharath’s thin mustache. "You’ll ruin the lipstick, you dog. It’s chemical."
"Miss," Bharath groaned, his voice thick with obsession, "even if there was poison on your lips, I’d suck it dry."
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes devouring every detail—the glint of her earrings, the smudged red of her mouth, the sacred mangalsutra resting against her skin, and the way her saree pallu teased the line of her breast. His hand slid down, finding the soft curve of her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric.
She bit her lip, a low moan escaping her. "Mm..." She shook her head "no," but she didn't move away.
"Even in this modern dress, you look so traditional," Bharath whispered.
"I’m getting bored," Geetha pouted, her eyes dancing with mischief.
"Why?"
"Listening to your compliments."
Bharath responded with a sharp pinch to her waist.
"Ouch!" Geetha cried out, her eyes flicking to the front. "Look darling, he's pinching me."
Gautam’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "I’m telling you, I’ll leave you right here on the side of the road," he muttered, though he didn't slow down.
Ignoring him, Bharath caught the edge of Geetha's earring between his teeth, pulling gently. "Why didn't you wear the bangles I gave you?"
"They didn't suit the outfit."
"The anklets are the ones I gave you, though. Right?"
"Mm…"
Bharath moved with a sudden, restless energy. He shifted to the very edge of the seat and hauled Geetha’s legs up into his lap.
The sound of her sandals hitting the floorboards echoed in the quiet car.
Gautam saw the sandals fall in his peripheral vision, but the height of the seats obscured what followed.
Bharath knelt in the narrow footwell, pressing the soles of her feet against his cheeks. He kissed the arches of her feet, his fingers twining through the silver links of her anklets. The frantic, melodic tinkling of the bells filled the cabin, an unsettling rhythm that made Gautam’s pulse quicken.
Geetha leaned back, a sense of haughty triumph radiating from her as she rested her right foot on Bharath’s shoulder.
He worshipped her left foot, his lips moving fervently over her skin. When Gautam turned his head slightly, trying to make sense of the scene, Geetha met his gaze with a challenging look.
"Darling… he's my dog, my slave, you know," she said, her voice dripping with playfulness.
"Hmm," Gautam managed, his voice tight as he banked the car into a left turn.
The wet, rhythmic sound of Bharath sucking her toes reached the front seat—a sound so visceral it made Gautam’s eyebrows twitch in a mix of discomfort and arousal.
"Tell rey," Geetha prompted, her voice rising. "Is it true or not?"
"Mmm… yes Miss, yes…" Bharath gasped, his mouth occupied with her toe.
She didn't let him off easily, kicking him firmly in the chest with her free foot. "Say it louder, you dog. Sir didn't hear you."
Bharath didn't hesitate. He pressed his face into the sole of her right foot, his voice muffled but clear. "Yes Sir… I am her dog."
Gautam offered a strained, hollow smile in the mirror, unsure of how to navigate the surreal power dynamic. Geetha, sensing his submission, began to rub her foot slowly across Bharath’s face, ensuring every movement was visible to her husband. Bharath seemed to fall into a trance, his eyes fluttering shut as he licked the skin around her ankle.
"Darling, is it okay?" she asked, her voice a purr.
"Yeah," Gautam replied, his voice barely a whisper.
Geetha reached up, unwinding her saree pallu. With a fluid motion, she dbangd the silk around Bharath’s neck like a garland and pulled him upward. He tumbled into her lap, a wicked grin on his face. He pressed his face against her chest, pushing the mangalsutra aside to plant a series of hot, wet kisses on her cleavage.
"Mm…" Geetha bit her lip, her eyes locked on Gautam in the mirror. She was performing for him as much as she was enjoying Bharath.
"Tell me Miss, what should I do?" Bharath asked, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"You ruined the lipstick; clean it, dog."
Bharath gripped the back of her head, pulling her face toward his. Their noses brushed, his breathing heavy and erratic. "You are teasing me a lot, Miss."
"At least do this much in front of him," she whispered, her lips hovering just inches from his.
He didn't need another word. He lunged, catching her lower lip between his teeth with a wet, audible "pkch" that echoed through the car.
Geetha moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. Their mouths collided in a frantic, messy exchange. Saliva smeared across their cheeks as they lost themselves in each other, the chemical taste of the rose lipstick dissolving between their tongues.
As Gautam turned his head one last time, he saw it—the silver thread of Bharath’s saliva falling into his wife’s mouth like nectar. Geetha drank it in, swallowing it with a devotion that left Gautam breathless and paralyzed behind the wheel.
Inside the car, silence had reigned since they left the party. Gautam kept both hands steady on the wheel, but his eyes flicked repeatedly to the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Bharath held Geetha's hand tightly, his thumb moving in slow, unconscious circles over her knuckles. Neither had spoken for long minutes.
Then Bharath broke the quiet, voice light and mischievous.
"Repeat 'Miss Lund John' fast."
Geetha turned her face toward him, one eyebrow raised. "Why?"
"Just say it. I'll tell you after."
She sighed, playing along. "Lund John… Lund Ja… Lund Ja… Lund Ja… Lan-ja… Lanja… Chiii!"
(Lanja means slut/whore in Telugu)
The word landed and exploded into laughter. Geetha clapped a hand over her mouth too late; Gautam’s shoulders shook as he tried—and failed—to keep his eyes on the road. All three of them dissolved into helpless, hiccupping giggles that filled the small cabin.
"Dirty mind," Geetha scolded through her laughter, swatting Bharath’s arm. "You filthy boy."
Gautam, still chuckling, managed to say between breaths, "It’s wrong, to make fun of someone’s name like that."
"Just a joke, Sir," Bharath grinned, completely unrepentant.
He fished his phone from his pocket and angled the screen toward Geetha. "Miss, let me show you something."
Before she could protest, his thumbs were already flying across the keyboard. He typed *Lanja* into Google Maps and hit search.
Geetha’s eyes widened as the result loaded: a small coastal town near Ratnagiri, Maharashtra.
"Orey!" She slapped her palm to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. "Chi… how do you even know this exists?"
Bharath’s grin turned wicked. "Once Harish and I went on a swear-word treasure hunt. Found all kinds of treasures… hahaha!"
She grabbed the back of his neck and gave him a solid thwack between the shoulder blades. "You boys have zero shame. And now you’re showing me? Crazy idiot."
"Abba, okay, okay—sorry!" He raised both hands in mock surrender. "But look—same sound, completely different meaning. In Hindi, 'lund' means dick. In Maharashtra, Lanja is just a place name. And in Telugu…" He let the implication hang, eyebrows dancing.
"Chi! Enough of your trash talk." Geetha tried to sound stern, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching.
Bharath leaned in, voice dropping to a playful murmur. "Okay… I’ll stop." Instead of retreating, he dipped his face into the curve of her neck and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there.
Geetha sucked in a soft breath. "Mm… move."
He didn’t. His tongue traced a lazy line along her skin.
She threaded fingers into his hair, half-caressing, half-scolding. "Don’t *lick*—the saliva will stick."
"Your necklace is poking my cheek," he mumbled against her throat.
"You have no sense at all. What is this nonsense in the car? And he’s *right there*—move." She pushed at his shoulder, voice dropping to an urgent whisper.
In the driver’s seat Gautam deliberately turned his face toward the side window, jaw tight.
Bharath pulled back just enough to speak clearly. "Sir, I wish I knew how to drive. Then *I* could sit in front and watch you two romance in the back."
Geetha and Gautam both froze. The casual audacity of the sentence hung in the air like smoke.
Geetha recovered first. She reached over and rapped her knuckles lightly against Bharath’s forehead. "Don’t you have any shame talking to us like that?"
Bharath only grinned wider. "Miss… what happened this morning?"
Geetha’s lips pressed into a thin line. Gautam’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as the memory flickered behind his eyes.
"You’re younger," Gautam said quietly. "Talking like this isn’t right."
Bharath leaned forward until his face was level with the driver’s seat. "Sir… didn’t you come to our room this morning for a little 'morning fuck' with Miss? I was awake. We’re all being very open now, aren’t we?"
Gautam exhaled through his nose. "Yes… but if you’re going to be *this* direct—"
"If I am, it’s fine," Bharath cut in gently. "You were the one who said we should leave whatever happens here, *here*. At least while I’m still around… I want to be open."
The logic landed, simple and disarming. Gautam stared at the road a long moment.
"…Fine."
Bharath’s eyes lit up. "Can we park somewhere in the jungle along this road?"
Geetha immediately seized his ear and twisted. "Why? What mad idea now?"
Bharath winced but didn’t pull away. "I’ll sit in the driver’s seat… and watch you two have sex in the back."
Geetha’s hand flew to cover her mouth. Gautam let out a short, startled bark of laughter.
"You don’t need porn apps anymore, do you?" Gautam said, shaking his head. "You’re already romancing your own teacher without a shred of shame."
Bharath’s expression sobered for the first time. "Sir… honestly? I was terrified thinking what you’d do if Miss ever told you I went down on her."
Gautam’s gaze flicked to the mirror—sharp, almost warning. "Don’t talk about that. I mean it. No discussion."
Bharath nodded quickly. "Sorry, Sir." A beat. Then, softer: "But… can I romance Miss in front of you?"
Gautam kept his eyes fixed on the ribbon of road illuminated ahead.
"There’s no need to ask."
With Gautam’s silent, heavy-hearted consent, Bharath leaned back against the window, pulling Geetha with him. He supported the weight of her head in his palm, his breath hot as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. When his lips pressed against her skin, Geetha let out a soft, sharp breath.
"Ooh… not now, you dog," she murmured, though her body betrayed her protest as she leaned into him. "Wait until we’re at the house."
Bharath didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice a low, jagged whisper in her ear. "I feel like fucking you in this car right in front of him, Milky…" The words were punctuated by a sharp nip at her shoulder.
"Ah… don't think like that," Geetha chided softly, though she reached up to press a lingering kiss to his forehead.
From the driver's seat, Gautam caught the movement of her lips in the rearview mirror. He couldn't hear the words, but the intimacy was loud.
"Will you come to me tonight?" Bharath asked, his eyes locked onto hers.
"I'll try," she replied.
As if on cue, they both shifted their gaze to the mirror, meeting Gautam’s eyes. He was caught between two worlds—one eye on the road and the other on the reflection of his wife in the arms of her student. The weight of their shared stare sent a jolt of illicit excitement through the backseat. Despite the hollow ache in Gautam’s chest, a dark, involuntary curiosity took hold. He watched, transfixed, as Bharath’s mouth found Geetha’s, his kiss so forceful and hungry that it smeared her rose-colored lipstick across her face.
Geetha watched her husband’s reaction out of the corner of her eye, a faint, intoxicating smile playing on her lips as she kissed Bharath’s thin mustache. "You’ll ruin the lipstick, you dog. It’s chemical."
"Miss," Bharath groaned, his voice thick with obsession, "even if there was poison on your lips, I’d suck it dry."
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes devouring every detail—the glint of her earrings, the smudged red of her mouth, the sacred mangalsutra resting against her skin, and the way her saree pallu teased the line of her breast. His hand slid down, finding the soft curve of her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric.
She bit her lip, a low moan escaping her. "Mm..." She shook her head "no," but she didn't move away.
"Even in this modern dress, you look so traditional," Bharath whispered.
"I’m getting bored," Geetha pouted, her eyes dancing with mischief.
"Why?"
"Listening to your compliments."
Bharath responded with a sharp pinch to her waist.
"Ouch!" Geetha cried out, her eyes flicking to the front. "Look darling, he's pinching me."
Gautam’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "I’m telling you, I’ll leave you right here on the side of the road," he muttered, though he didn't slow down.
Ignoring him, Bharath caught the edge of Geetha's earring between his teeth, pulling gently. "Why didn't you wear the bangles I gave you?"
"They didn't suit the outfit."
"The anklets are the ones I gave you, though. Right?"
"Mm…"
Bharath moved with a sudden, restless energy. He shifted to the very edge of the seat and hauled Geetha’s legs up into his lap.
The sound of her sandals hitting the floorboards echoed in the quiet car.
Gautam saw the sandals fall in his peripheral vision, but the height of the seats obscured what followed.
Bharath knelt in the narrow footwell, pressing the soles of her feet against his cheeks. He kissed the arches of her feet, his fingers twining through the silver links of her anklets. The frantic, melodic tinkling of the bells filled the cabin, an unsettling rhythm that made Gautam’s pulse quicken.
Geetha leaned back, a sense of haughty triumph radiating from her as she rested her right foot on Bharath’s shoulder.
He worshipped her left foot, his lips moving fervently over her skin. When Gautam turned his head slightly, trying to make sense of the scene, Geetha met his gaze with a challenging look.
"Darling… he's my dog, my slave, you know," she said, her voice dripping with playfulness.
"Hmm," Gautam managed, his voice tight as he banked the car into a left turn.
The wet, rhythmic sound of Bharath sucking her toes reached the front seat—a sound so visceral it made Gautam’s eyebrows twitch in a mix of discomfort and arousal.
"Tell rey," Geetha prompted, her voice rising. "Is it true or not?"
"Mmm… yes Miss, yes…" Bharath gasped, his mouth occupied with her toe.
She didn't let him off easily, kicking him firmly in the chest with her free foot. "Say it louder, you dog. Sir didn't hear you."
Bharath didn't hesitate. He pressed his face into the sole of her right foot, his voice muffled but clear. "Yes Sir… I am her dog."
Gautam offered a strained, hollow smile in the mirror, unsure of how to navigate the surreal power dynamic. Geetha, sensing his submission, began to rub her foot slowly across Bharath’s face, ensuring every movement was visible to her husband. Bharath seemed to fall into a trance, his eyes fluttering shut as he licked the skin around her ankle.
"Darling, is it okay?" she asked, her voice a purr.
"Yeah," Gautam replied, his voice barely a whisper.
Geetha reached up, unwinding her saree pallu. With a fluid motion, she dbangd the silk around Bharath’s neck like a garland and pulled him upward. He tumbled into her lap, a wicked grin on his face. He pressed his face against her chest, pushing the mangalsutra aside to plant a series of hot, wet kisses on her cleavage.
"Mm…" Geetha bit her lip, her eyes locked on Gautam in the mirror. She was performing for him as much as she was enjoying Bharath.
"Tell me Miss, what should I do?" Bharath asked, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"You ruined the lipstick; clean it, dog."
Bharath gripped the back of her head, pulling her face toward his. Their noses brushed, his breathing heavy and erratic. "You are teasing me a lot, Miss."
"At least do this much in front of him," she whispered, her lips hovering just inches from his.
He didn't need another word. He lunged, catching her lower lip between his teeth with a wet, audible "pkch" that echoed through the car.
Geetha moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. Their mouths collided in a frantic, messy exchange. Saliva smeared across their cheeks as they lost themselves in each other, the chemical taste of the rose lipstick dissolving between their tongues.
As Gautam turned his head one last time, he saw it—the silver thread of Bharath’s saliva falling into his wife’s mouth like nectar. Geetha drank it in, swallowing it with a devotion that left Gautam breathless and paralyzed behind the wheel.
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