Adultery NEMESIS

[Neelkantha]

Part 207 – Madam’s Gaze Falls Upon Raju

Pihu’s POV-

“Gradually, the closeness between Rozina Madam and me began to grow.” Continuing his story in my (Pihu’s) presence, Raju began to say further, “After that day, I started feeling as though Madam was making an effort to get even closer to me than before. She began speaking to me much more openly than she ever had. Then, quite suddenly one day, she asked me if I had a girlfriend or anything of the sort. Seeing me blush in response, she laughed and said, ‘Oh, what is there to be so shy about?! Is having a girlfriend at your age such a bad thing? No! In fact, it’s quite common. Come on, tell me, do you have a girlfriend?’ When she heard the word ‘no’ escape my lips, she initially refused to believe it. And then, once it finally sank in that I truly didn’t have a girlfriend, she looked at me with a hint of astonishment and asked, ‘Despite being so handsome and so smart, you haven’t managed to find yourself a girlfriend?! Why is so? Any girl would like you. Is it that you don’t like any girls?!’ Hearing such high praise from Madam for the very first time felt wonderful. Blushing slightly, I replied, ‘It’s not quite like that, Madam.’ Madam said, ‘Then how is it? Tell me, I genuinely want to know why you don’t have a girlfriend.’ I said, ‘Oh, let’s just drop it, Madam.’ Madam insisted, ‘Why drop it? No, I want to know. Tell me.’ It was only then that I felt compelled to tell Madam about my college days. Upon hearing the story, Madam remarked, ‘Any girl who would reject and dump a bright young man like you must be an absolute fool.’ Hearing Madam say this, I got the feeling that she might be saying it on purpose. So, I decided to be a little bold and asked her, ‘Do you really think so, Madam, that I could actually win over any girl?’ Hearing my question, Madam laughed and replied, ‘Yes! Why wouldn’t any girl fall for you?! Just look at yourself, my boy. You are young. You’re quite handsome; you’re smart. Why wouldn't any girl like you? Of course she would! And just because one girl turned you down, that certainly doesn't mean you should give up on love entirely.’ I appreciated what Madam said, but at the same time, a question was bubbling up in my mind. So, I finally mustered the courage to ask her: ‘Madam, if you wouldn't take offense, could I ask you a question?’ Madam replied, ‘Go ahead.’ I said, ‘You’re telling me to fall in love, yet at the university, you keep all the boys and girls strictly separated from one another. Why is so?’ Hearing this question, Madam burst into hearty laughter. She said, ‘I know, none of you students like me because of these antics of mine. Do you? Behind my back, you’re constantly calling me an old hag, a grumpy old woman, a witch, a sorceress, all sorts of names. Isn't that right?’ Hearing Madam say this, I felt a flush of embarrassment, because it was absolutely true. Everyone did call her by those names, and Madam was well aware of it. Madam spoke again: ‘Look, that is my job. People go there to study. I am not against love; however, I am definitely against pursuing love at the expense of one's education. Once you’ve finished your studies and secured a job, then, by all means, go chase after your love; I wouldn't have a single objection. But boys and girls these days don't seem to understand that. They think that love is everything. Love might mean a great deal to many people, but it isn't everything. First, make something of yourself; then pursue your love life. That is my philosophy. I did exactly the same thing in my own life.’ I felt that Madam’s words were both sensible and true. Mustering my courage once more, I asked, ‘Do you really think I could win over any girl?’ Madam replied, ‘Absolutely. There isn't a shadow of a doubt about it.’ At that moment, the words just tumbled out of my mouth: ‘And...what about a woman?’ I still don't know why I chose to ask her that particular question at that particular moment. However, upon hearing it, Madam seemed slightly taken aback and paused. Her eyebrows arched slightly once again. She began to look at me over the rims of her glasses, as if she were trying to decipher the true meaning behind my inquiry. I had blurted out the question in haste, and now there was no taking it back. So I said, ‘I'm sorry, Madam; I didn't mean anything by it. I just asked on a whim.’ But Madam offered no response to this explanation either. It seemed as though my question had left her deep in thought. I couldn't tell whether she was angry with me or not. After that, Madam said nothing further regarding that topic; she simply proceeded to resume the lesson. I, too, could not muster the courage to push the matter any further. Meanwhile, I had found myself in another predicament: it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to keep all of this a secret from Alex. Moreover, three months had already passed since I had started going to Madam for private tutoring. So, one day, I finally confessed to Alex that I was taking private lessons from Madam, and I requested that he not mention it to anyone else. He asked me if “anything” had happened between us during those three months. I replied, ‘What could possibly happen?’ Alex said, ‘You know, the kind of thing that happens between a man and a woman. Sex.’ Hearing this, I exclaimed, ‘Have you lost your mind, buddy? Let alone actually doing anything, if I were to even think something like that about her, she’d probably beat me to a pulp! You don't know her like I do. The entire department lives in fear of her!’ Alex retorted, ‘So what? She is a woman, after all, isn't she? Plus, according to you, she’s been divorced for ten years. And in these ten years, neither has her husband visited her, nor has she been involved with any other man. Do you realize what that implies?’ I asked, ‘No. What does it imply actually?’ Hearing my response, Alex threw his hands up in exasperation.”

“I said Alex, ‘You can beat your head against the wall later; first, just clarify what exactly you’re trying to say to me.’ Alex replied, ‘If I don’t beat my head against the wall, what am I supposed to do? You didn’t even grasp something as simple as that?’ I said, ‘No. You tell me.’ Alex said, ‘Oh, come on! It means that for the last ten years, she hasn’t gotten fucked by anyone. And if a woman goes even a single day without getting fucked, she goes crazy, so just imagine how sexually starved your ‘Madam’ must be on the inside after going ten whole years without sex. A fire of lust must be raging inside her. She wants you to quell that burning desire, and yet here you are, spending three whole months doing nothing but studying with her!’ I said, ‘You’ve truly lost your mind, Alex. Could something like that actually happen? Look at her, and look at me! How could I possibly...??? No, no, you’re wrong.’ Alex argued, ‘Why couldn’t it happen? You possess exactly what she needs. So why can’t you give her the very thing she is currently in desperate need of?’ I said, ‘Even if I were to accept your premise, why did she wait for ten years? She could have simply had sex with someone long ago.’ Alex replied, ‘You still haven’t truly figured out who your ‘Madam’ is. Even after seeing her apartment, her lifestyle, and her attitude, did it not dawn on you that your ‘Madam’ isn’t just some random woman off the street, someone who would just let any random guy screw her simply because her husband left her? No; her pride, her arrogance would never allow her to do something like that.’ I asked, ‘If that’s the case, then why do you think her pride and so called arrogance wouldn’t stand in the way now?’ Instead of giving me a direct answer to that question, Alex said, ‘Alright, tell me this: roughly how many students are there in your department in total?’ I replied, ‘Somewhere around fifty, I’d say.’ Alex said, ‘So, out of those fifty students, why your Madam choose you? Why is she giving you private tuition, especially when she doesn't offer it to anyone else? And that too, without charging a single penny? Just think about it, buddy. What is her reason for choosing you? Is it because you’re good at your studies, or is there some other motive?’ I replied, ‘What other reason could there possibly be? If she simply wanted a man, she could have chosen anyone else, not just me. Why would she pick me specifically?’ Alex said, ‘That is exactly what I’ve been trying to explain to you all along! She must certainly have a specific, special reason for choosing you.’ I argued, ‘That’s all nonsense. There is no ulterior motive. I’m practically the same age as her son.’ Hearing this, Alex laughed and said, ‘Well, you just gave me one reason yourself right now! Remember what I told you? There are many women in this world who, as they get older, find themselves attracted not to men their own age or older, but to younger guys. That is one possible reason she chose you. The second reason is that you’re quite handsome. You’re smart, too. In one way or another, you fit her specific preferences. That is precisely why she picked you. Nothing in this world happens without a cause; there is always a reason behind everything. And take my word for it: your Madam has definitely developed a soft spot for you. Now, it’s entirely up to you whether or not you decide to take advantage of the situation. But I can tell you one thing for sure: if I were in your shoes, I would definitely have managed to win my Madam over within these three months.’ Alex’s words began to stir up a commotion in my mind. Had Madam truly agreed to tutor me solely to fulfill some hidden desire of her own? How could that be possible? Was any of this actually true, or was it just one of Alex’s wild, baseless theories, something completely unfounded and nonsensical? Nevertheless, from that moment on, I began to observe Madam with a much sharper, more critical eye. And sure enough, I actually started to notice subtle changes in her behavior. Previously, whenever she was around me, he wore nothing but a saree. One Sunday morning, at nine o'clock, I arrived at Madam's flat as usual. I rang the doorbell, but Madam did not open the door. This had never happened before; usually, she would open the door the moment the bell rang. But on that day, she finally opened the door only after I had rung the bell four times in succession. And the moment she opened the door, I was astonished by her appearance. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were bloodshot. It was obvious at a glance that she had just woken up. This came as yet another surprise to me, for Madam never sleeps in this late. Every day, she rises at 5:00 AM sharp, practices yoga, and then attends to her household chores. Not a single day has she ever deviated from this routine. So why had she slept in so late today? Was she unwell? I asked, ‘Madam, is everything alright? Are you feeling well?’ My question seemed to take Madam aback; she asked, ‘Why? Why would I be unwell? I am perfectly fine, absolutely fit and healthy.’ I replied, ‘No, it's just that you never sleep in this late, so I was concerned.’ Letting out a loud yawn, Madam said, ‘Yes, well, I went to bed a bit late last night. That is why I woke up late today.’ This, too, surprised me, as Madam usually goes to bed every night at 10:30 PM sharp. Anyway, I said nothing further to her and entered the house.”

“Upon entering the house, I received yet another shock. Madam was standing right in front of me, clad only in her nightie. Until this day, I had never seen Madam in any attire other than a saree. Yet here she stood today, right before my eyes, in a nightie. Seeing her dressed like that, I simply stood frozen in place. Noticing my stunned immobility, Madam grew slightly annoyed and asked, ‘What happened? Have you lost your voice? Why are you just standing there like that? Move aside; let me close the door.’ I stepped aside, and Madam shut the door. I assumed she would probably head to her bedroom to change out of her nightie and put on a saree, as she always did. But, surprising me even further, Madam asked, ‘Would you like some tea? I’m making some for myself.’ This implied that the fact she was standing before me in a nightie didn't bother her in the slightest; it hadn't even crossed her mind to put on a saree. Seeing me still standing there silently, she prodded, “Come on, tell me, are you going to have tea or not?’ I replied somehow, ‘Yes, I will.’ Madam said, ‘Alright, have a seat. I’ll go make the tea and bring it right over.’ Saying this, she turned and headed toward the kitchen. That was when my gaze fell upon her backside, or, to be more precise, her buttocks. Because she usually wore sarees, I had never been able to get a proper look at her rear before. But today, thanks to the nightie, her buttocks were clearly visible to me. They were large, perfectly rounded, and voluptuously curved, a sight that looked even more stunning beneath the sheer fabric of her nightie. And as she walked, her hips swayed in a truly seductive manner. I simply couldn't believe that I was witnessing such a sight right before my eyes, so early in the morning. I felt as though I were dreaming; surely, something like this couldn't be happening in reality. I pinched my own arm to check. It wasn't a dream. I was wide awake. And there was Madam, truly walking around right in front of me, swaying her hips just like that, while she went to make the tea. Madam began speaking to me: ‘Last night, I was watching a movie on TV. Before I knew it, it was already midnight.’ The idea that Madam could actually like a movie struck me as something entirely new. She usually dislikes every movie; in her view, all modern films are vulgar. Madam continued, ‘It was a good movie, a romantic one. I got so engrossed in watching it that the night just slipped away.’ I didn't utter a single word in response. A short while later, Madam came out with some tea and approached me to hand it over. As she bent down to offer me the tea, my gaze fell upon her, and in that instant, every hair on my body stood on end. The nightie Madam was wearing had a very deep neckline. And what I glimpsed through that wide opening left my throat completely parched. I realized that Madam wasn't wearing a bra underneath her nightie. Consequently, as she leaned forward like that, her large boobs hung downward. It was the first time I had ever seen Madam's boobs in such a manner. Seeing Madam's boobs exposed like that, I felt as though my wits had completely deserted me. Oblivious to the world around me, I simply kept staring at her boobs. I have no idea how long Madam remained bent over in front of me, nor how long I continued to stare at her boobs; I only snapped back to reality when Madam's voice reached my ears. Suddenly, I heard her say, ‘Are you going to drink your tea, or am I supposed to stand here bent over like this all day?’ I quickly averted my gaze from her hanging boobs, looked away, and, with trembling hands, accepted the teacup. Madam sat down across from me and began sipping her tea with such composure, as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Meanwhile, I sat there like a stone statue, the teacup still clutched in my shaky hand. Even then, the image of Madam's hanging boobs remained vivid before my eyes. Madam glanced at me once and asked, ‘What’s the matter? Are you planning to just sit there holding that cup all day? What on earth has gotten into you today? Ever since you arrived why have you been behaving so strangely ever since then?’ How could I possibly tell her that she, and she alone, was the sole reason for all of this? But just then, I realized I had another problem on my hands. I managed to start drinking my tea somehow, but that particular image kept flashing before my eyes: Madam leaning forward right in front of me, her boobs hanging visible through her nightie. All of this had already set my heart racing, but my predicament worsened when I realized that it wasn't just my heart acting up; another part of my body had also begun to stir in response to that sight. I could feel a distinct stirring inside my trousers. It was fast becoming a humiliating situation for me; I simply couldn't stop replaying that image in my mind, and the more I dwelled on it, the bigger and harder my cock grew. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it under control, or, more importantly, to hide it from Madam's eyes. The situation was such that if Madam were to look up at me even once, she would instantly, and quite easily, realize exactly what was going on with me and my cock. And that would only compound my troubles. So, I crossed one leg over the other, attempting to use it to conceal my bulging cock. But a human being is powerless against their own destiny; whatever is written in one's fate is bound to come to pass. And that is exactly what happened to me. As she sipped her tea, Madam glanced in my direction, and her eyes came to rest right between my legs.”

“I felt as though my survival was now impossible. For Madam had clearly spotted the state of my cock, and she must have realized that this condition was entirely her doing. Now, she would likely shove me right out of her house. What a predicament I had unwittingly landed myself in! By then, the tea had ceased to go down my throat, and I was breaking out in a profuse sweat. Helplessly, I tried to use my legs to conceal my cock from her view. But by that point, what was done was done. Madam sat there with her gaze fixed squarely on my cock; her eyelids hadn't fluttered even once. Without blinking, she continued to stare unblinkingly at the throbbing bulge beneath my trousers. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, a sign that she was shocked by the sight of my cock... or perhaps by my audacity: the sheer nerve to sit right there in her home, ogling her while getting a hard-on. Yet, none of this was my fault. Whatever had transpired was merely a coincidence; it was completely beyond my control. But how could I possibly explain this to Madam? How could I tell her, ‘You weren't wearing a bra under your nightie. When you came to serve me tea and leaned forward, I saw your boobs hanging loose. And that, and that alone, is why my wretched cock is currently raging inside my pants?’ Madam’s fair face had turned a deep crimson. I could even see beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her breathing had quickened, and her chest began to rise and fall rapidly with each labored breath. This, however, created a new complication: my eyes drifted down to Madam’s chest. Not only was she braless beneath her nightie, but now, due to her heavy breathing, her ample boobs were bouncing vigorously up and down. Upon seeing this, my cock felt as though it were about to burst right through my trousers. I somehow, using one hand, I tried to conceal my erection right through my trousers. For a moment, I thought, enough is enough; I should just get up and flee this place. But how could I possibly step outside in such a state? What would everyone think if they saw me like this? They would all simply assume I had done something wrong and was making a getaway. No, absolutely not, I couldn't possibly leave this place in this condition. Yet, I couldn't just sit there either; for she sat there, gazing with an almost intoxicated intensity at my growing erection. And right before my eyes, I could see her two large boobs heaving beneath her nightie. I don't know how long we sat there, locked in that mutual gaze. But it was Madam who regained her composure first. She somehow managed to place the teacup she was holding onto the table. She wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead with her palm, then slowly raised her head to meet my eyes. I felt as though this was the final moment of my life. I fully expected Madam to rise from her seat, deliver a stinging slap across my cheek, and then unceremoniously kick me out of her house. As if to validate my fears, Madam indeed rose from her seat. I braced myself, waiting for the inevitable slap, waiting for her to step forward and strike me. However, my prediction held true only up to the moment she stood up. After that, nothing unfolded the way I had imagined. Madam rose, looked at me, and in a dry, hushed voice, said, ‘You stay right here. I'm going to take a bath.’ With those words, she slowly made her way toward her bedroom. I was utterly bewildered. My erection had been growing visibly inside my trousers, right before Madam's eyes. She had seen it, yet she neither slapped me nor uttered a single word of reproach. She simply went straight off to take a bath! Once Madam had left, I remained seated right where I was. I didn't budge an inch from my spot. But that damn cock of mine simply refused to show any signs of shrinking back down. I sat there just like that for a while until, suddenly, I heard Madam’s voice. She was calling out to me. I somehow managed to answer her, ‘What is it, Madam?’ Madam replied, ‘Come here for a moment.’ I asked foolishly, ‘Where?’ Madam said, ‘Into my bedroom.’ Up until that day, neither she let me in her bedroom, nor had I ever once set foot inside Madam’s bedroom. There is an attached bathroom inside her bedroom, which she always uses; I, however, always used the common bathroom. The moment Madam called me into her bedroom, I rose from my seat and headed toward it. I could actually hear the sound of my own heartbeat. My legs were trembling so violently that it felt as though I might collapse at any moment while walking. Who knew what awaited me inside? With these thoughts running through my mind, I entered Madam’s bedroom for the very first time.” (Contd.)

[Next Update is on Tuesday (03.11.26) between 11 am to 2 pm]