[krish_999]

Chapter - 49

 
I lay motionless under the bed, the coldness of the floor seeping into my skin. My plan was starting to feel like a waste of time. The silence in the apartment only made my thoughts spiral further into doubt.
 
Then I heard it – a faint click. My breath caught, and my heart raced. The front door opened, and I heard Desai’s voice along with the sound of the door closing.
“Finally, my lady!”
 
There was the soft thud of items being placed down – perhaps his bag.
“Come over here, Meera. Welcome home.”
His voice carried an unmistakable confidence, the kind that seemed to claim ownership of any space he entered. It carried easily through the quiet house and reached me, as I had left the door open. In fact, I had left the doors in all the rooms open to avoid suspicion.
“This isn’t your house, Desai,” Meera replied, her tone playful. “It’s my house.”
“Well then,” Desai countered smoothly, ““shouldn’t you be the host? Aren’t you supposed to welcome me properly?
 
I couldn’t see them – just the faint shuffle of their feet on the tiled floor and the occasional creak of movement as they moved around.
“And how exactly should I welcome you, Mr. Desai?” Meera asked, her voice filled with mischief.
 
I couldn’t help but wonder how she was feeling. I hated to think she wasn’t nervous. Subconsciously, I wanted her to carry some sense of remorse for what she was doing.
 
“How do you think?” Desai replied, his tone teasing yet firm. “I’m your guest, Meera. Make me feel at home.”
“Fine, Mr. Guest. How do you want me to welcome you?”
 
I heard a soft laugh from Desai. Then he spoke, “I could think of a few ways…” His voice trailed off, heavy with implication. “Aah-huh! And what if I don’t oblige?” Meera challenged, but her tone was playful. “Then I’ll just have to make myself at home,” he said. Then there was a pause, followed by nothing.
Nothing?
 
No, there was a faint rustling – the sound of clothes shifting – and then a soft, unmistakable silence. It was a familiar kind of silence, and I knew what was happening. They were kissing. I heard Desai’s voice cut through the muffled sounds of their kiss. “I’ve missed you.” Meera let out a breathless laugh. “I can tell.” “Let’s go,” Desai said, his tone low, commanding, and certain. But Meera replied, “Let me show you the house first. You came all the way from Bangalore to see it, didn’t you?” I could hear a soft chuckle from her. She knew what Desai wanted, and she was just toying with him. I knew it would only make him more desperate. Hungry. Aggressive when he finally gets to shove his dick into her pussy. Which he eventually would.
 
Meera guided Desai through the house quickly, showing him the bedrooms first and then the kitchen. When they reached the master bedroom where I was hiding, I couldn’t see much – just their feet stepping into view. My pulse quickened, and I barely dared to breathe.
 
I was beneath the farthest end of the bed, leaving me just a few inches of visibility to the space outside.
“This must be the master bedroom,” I heard Desai say. I could imagine him staring at the bed. Meera mentioned there were no bed sheets in any of the rooms. When she said it needed cleaning, Desai remarked that it looked tidy.
“I’ll show you the kitchen,” Meera said, leading him out quickly.
 
After the kitchen, they returned to step out onto the balcony from the main hall. I heard Meera calculating the distance between her office and mine compared to this house and our present one. They kept talking for a while.
Desai remarked that the house was more spacious than her current one and suggested she should move in.
When Meera suggested that she would show him the other bedrooms, Desai replied, “I guess I’m done seeing the house, for now.”
Then I heard it – a faint shift, a rustle of fabric, followed by Meera's soft giggle, which soon turned into a burst of laughter.
Soon, Desai’s feet re-entered my view in the room. But I could only see his feet.
It took me a moment to piece everything together and understand what was happening.
Meera wasn’t walking. Desai's footsteps echoed firmly on the floor, and after a wasted moment searching for Meera’s feet beside him, it struck me – he was carrying her. The realization hit me: my wife was in his arms.
 
For a moment, my heart sank at the realization that it was happening. My wife had not only met Desai, but she was now going to sleep with him. But in the next moment, I knew there was nothing to be surprised by, as I had already known it. There was nothing new in this; it was just a repetition of my past.
 
I shifted my head slightly to the centre of the bed area to catch a glimpse of my wife, but I could only see the tip of her dress hanging in front of Desai. The faint noises they made painted a vivid picture in my mind. Meera was sitting on his waist, her legs wrapped tightly around him, her arms likely circling his neck. I could almost sense the urgency in the way she clung to him, her weight fully supported by his strong hands.
And they said nothing, because their lips were attached to each other’s.
 
The tiny sound of their kissing was nonstop and unapologetically urgent. I heard Desai let out of soft grunt as he walked steadily towards the bed. My view was limited to Desai’s feet – they stopped near the bed, and I heard Meera laugh softly, her voice relaxed and teasing in a way that I quickly remembered how she always behave with him.
“This place feels so freeing,” she said, her tone light. “It’s so different from…you know.”
“You mean your home?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Here, there’s no need to worry. No one watching. No one listening.”
If only she knew.
Desai chuckled. “Well, it’s a big house. Spacious. Comfortable. Perfect for a weekend getaway…or for moments like this.”
She giggled again. “I’ll give you the full house tour, I promise. But not now.”
“Yeah…” Desai said. “I know exactly what you want, baby. And I came here to give you just that.”
Her laughter softened into something more intimate. “Are you going to keep me like this until evening, or are you planning to throw me onto the bed at some point?”
“Throw you onto the bed?” he teased. “We’re not in a rush. Let’s take it slow. This is a once-in-a-lifetime moment, just you and me, away from everything. Free to give each other all the attention we deserve.”
There was a soft thud as he placed her feet gently on the floor. I saw Meera's toes almost touching Desai’s.
“Let’s make it a romantic date… a memorable one,” he said.
“Memorable sounds good to me,” Meera's voice was filled with anticipation. Then she added, “Where’s my gift?”
“It’s here,” Desai said in a lower voice.
“Mmm…hmm…!” Meera's reply was another giggle. “Really?”
“Yes… you can have it.”
I couldn’t see anything, but I heard her say again, “Okay….” And followed by a shuffle of movement. Her feet shifted backward, and then, her knees touched the floor. I saw the hem of her dress dropping gently around her knees. The fabric pooled softly on the ground around her.
A quick, hurried sound of a zipper being pulled down followed. My heart stopped.
The metallic clink of a belt being unbuckled was next, accompanied by Desai’s soft gasp of encouragement. I could imagine Meera's excitement from the pace she was undressing him.
Then, suddenly, Desai said, “Baby, wait. I need to wash up first. Took a piss during the flight."
"I won’t mind that," Meera replied readily.
I froze. My stomach twisted. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She won’t mind that?
And I realized in that moment – her desperation, her willingness to accept him, no matter the circumstances. How could she be so eager, so open?
I couldn’t help but feel sick with jealousy. I had spent years with Meera, yet here she was, throwing herself at him with such ease and desperation.
A moment later, I heard it – the wet, unmistakable sound of her lips taking him in. I felt she must have felt the stinking taste of his piss when she took him into her mouth. It was disgusting for me to think about but it didn’t stop Meera from expressing the love Desai was seeking from her. Slow at first, then more confident, the rhythm of her movements picking up as she started sucking his dick.
As Meera began, Desai's voice broke through the tension. "Did you miss me?" he asked, "Did you wait for this, baby?"
Meera paused for a moment and then freed her mouth to speak. "At first, I wasn’t thinking about it," she admitted softly. "But after agreeing to meet you... it became harder to wait. So…yes... You’ve been on my mind."
“Sounds sweet.” Desai said.
The wet sounds of Meera’s mouth moving back and forth on his dick filled my ears again, accompanied by the occasional hum of satisfaction from Desai. Within a few minutes of their arrival, the atmosphere in the room had become charged with lust. I could hear Meera moaning faintly, as if she were savouring every moment, and I sensed that there was clearly no attempt to hide her excitement this time. My heart pounded furiously against my ribcage, each beat louder than the last, drowning out my thoughts.
I wanted to see her. The itch to move closer, to stretch my neck just a little and catch even a fleeting glimpse of what she was doing, was growing. But the fear of being caught kept me still in my place. I couldn’t risk it. Not now, I said myself.
Desai’s voice broke through the sounds of the movements. “God, Meera, your tongue…” he groaned. “The way it moves around the head – it’s unreal.”
A faint giggle escaped her lips, muffled by her efforts. Then she pulled back just enough to speak, her voice laced with satisfaction. “I love it. The gift. It’s…perfect.”
Her words sent a fresh wave of jealousy coursing through me. My stomach churned as I realized how much she adored pleasing him, how freely she expressed it. There was no hesitation, no shame. Just pure desire.
Desai groaned again, clearly overcome with pleasure. “I knew you’d love it,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “It’s all yours, baby.”
I gritted my teeth, burying my jealousy deep within me. My fists clenched involuntarily, nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to move, to make any sound that would betray my presence. All I could do was lie there, helpless, as the woman I loved continued worshipping Desai's dick. I heard the sound of Meera biting his skin with her lips, pulling it back, and then letting out occasional sighs. I felt she was sucking his balls. His pants had dropped down to his ankles, and I caught a glimpse of his black underwear, too.
I then Desai’s deep voice cut through. “Come on, get up,” he said warmly. There was a rustling noise as Meera stood, and almost immediately, their mouths found each other again. The sound of their kissing filled the room, louder now, more intense, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.
Desai’s chuckle followed. “I’m thirsty for a gift too,” he teased.
Meera’s voice, breathy and full of playfulness, answered him. “I am the gift. You can take me.”
He laughed. “I’d love to have you…bit by bit.”
The bed creaked as he sat her on the its edge.  I couldn’t see them clearly, only their feet shifting positions. Meera's feet were facing away from the bed, facing Desai’s. He freed his right leg from his crumpled pants that remained at his ankles and lifted it, bending it to rest his knee on the edge of the mattress. The sound of their kissing continued.
Until Desai stopped and said, “I’m gonna taste you.”
Meera's reply was quick, “Why just taste? Eat me, baby.”
Her words, filled with desire and a sense urgency to surrender to him, pierced through me like blade that it gave me a sense of goosebump. My wife was so willing, so eager to be taken. It was as if she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in him, to let him consume her completely.
I heard the sounds of her soft clothes shifting, and then Meera giggled. “Pervert darling, come on – take it.”
“Yeah… I’m gonna do that.”
Desai said, and then it fell – her pantie, landing on the floor just inches from where I lay. I stared at the light green colour pantie, my breath catching in my throat with anticipation.
Before I could fully process what was happening, Desai knelt on the floor, his pants still crumpled at his left ankle. He bent further down, presumably to position his head between her thighs. And as his waist lowered to rest on his ankles, I was left to face his naked thighs. My eyes drifted upward, and to my shock and disgust, I caught a glimpse of his dick. It was pumped up, thanks to the oral worship it had received from my wife. I looked away for a moment, feeling sick, but the sounds brought me back to look straight at it. I had seen it before but not this close, and this time it intimidated like no before. It was not standing up fully, but it was still grown fully to give me the glimpse of the veins on it, and its head was shining, either from the wetness of it, or by the saliva from my wife’s mouth. I couldn’t believe how my wife could take it into her mouth, despite knowing that he hadn’t washed it after taking a piss probably two hours ago. I looked at it like a piece of horror; at the same time, I knew my wife had looked at it with absolute awe just a few minutes ago. I couldn’t believe the audacity of my own fate that left me in positions like this.
 
Desai had buried his head between her legs, and Meera’s legs soon disappeared from my view, presumably lifted into the air. I heard a soft moan from her, very soon.
“Mmm….”
I knew it was the response to the first touch of her pussy by his tongue. She moaned again, and again, as Desai started licking her. Meera's gasps were soft at first, and then became louder, filled with unmistakable pleasure.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Every sound, every gasp, every moan was a fresh wound. She was giving herself to him in a way that left no doubt of her desire, her need for him. She was entirely his at that moment, and I was powerless to do anything but lie there and endure it.
After a few seconds, Desai paused, “you’re already wet; you know that?”
Meera didn’t hesitate. “I’ve been like this since morning.”
I was stunned by the level of her audacity and boldness to admit the desire she had for him. The confidence to accept it, and the desire in her tone, were simply devastating. It wasn’t just about physical attraction; it was her surrender, her eagerness to be consumed by him. But I knew there was more to come.
“God, I love hearing you say that. You’re something else, you know that?” Desai said with utmost satisfaction.
“You make me so,” she replied, her voice becoming a whisper. Desai silently went back to licking her pussy, and Meera's thickened gasps told me how much she loved it.
“Aaah…aaaah…mmm…”
Either by the fact that there was nothing else for me to see or simply dominated by the view of it, I couldn’t look away from Desai's dick that was now getting more erect. It was not hanging downward anymore. My throat went dry as I felt it was a gun pointed at me, questioning my authority to be there. The skin around its head had moved back completely, and I saw the pee hole at the end of it, looking at it I couldn’t think of anything else other than that it would soon be going inside my wife’s pussy and spurting cum.
Meera was more and more drenched in the pleasure of things, as he kept eating her pussy. At times, I even heard the sound of him biting and stretching her pussy lips, making her giggle and gasp.
Desai then brought his right hand to caress his dick, and he ran his fingers along it, circled around it, as if to feel the growth. I knew he would be thinking of shoving it into my wife’s pussy. It had already become a monster, its girth making me subconsciously worry about the pain he would cause while pushing it inside her, stretching her married pussy beyond its capacity.
“I can't wait any longer. I need you now, baby" he said and stood up quickly. I watched his feet as he slipped his pants off his left foot, and discarded it on the floor beside Meera's panty. There was a moment of silence before Meera’s answer came, breathless and full of anticipation. “I’m ready, Susheel.”
“You’re incredible,” Desai said, then there was a shift, a sound of movement as he placed his right knee on the edge of the bed, and Meera soon gasped softly. I could hear the little struggle they shared while he pushed his dick into her. My whole body stiffened as I realised that my wife’s pussy was being stuffed by another man’s dick just a few inches away from me. I had seen it already many times in my life before, but nothing felt as close as this.
“It feels great, baby” he said, his voice rich with satisfaction. "Your expression," he murmured, "when I push it inside you, it's even more satisfying than the act itself. It's so beautiful... you’re so beautiful. I don’t want to forget these moments."
Meera responded, "It’s yours," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "Take it, baby."
“How do you feel?”
“I feel…” Her voice trembled, full of emotion. “Full. It’s perfect.”
“It seems like we’re perfect for each other. My dick fits perfectly inside you. We are made for each other, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we are,” Meera whispered, going with the flow.
“I’ve never felt this way before. It’s like we were meant to be together in every way.” Desai went on, “Do you feel the same level of fulfilment with Krish?”
Meera paused for a moment, and then broke my heart. “No.”
“I should have met you before he did. I wish I had, baby.”
Meera laughed softly.
“I’ll go slow. I want this to last.” Desai said.
“Oh, yes,” she replied with a moan. “Mmm….”
I heard the sound clearly as Desai pulled back, and then he pushed again, to derive another soft cry from Meera. “aaaah…”
Desai placed his right foot down, and then leaned forward to move back and forth for a couple of times. That was all it needed before Meera cried out, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “Oh my God,” she cried. “mmm…. Susheel….mmmm… I’m… I’m coming….!”
I was stunned by the response from Meera. Or I was stunned by the realisation that how easy it was for him to make her cum.
Meera though quickly regained her normal breath. “What have you done to me, Susheel?”
Desai responded tenderly. "It’s great to know you’ve been waiting for me."
“I’ve never waited for you like this… because it was the first time when I knew we were surely going to be intimate... like this. From Wednesday noon I knew we were going to meet…so it was all in my head. Even when I was in bed with Krish, you know… I was thinking about it.”
Meera's revelation was a stunning jolt to my psyche. It was something that I had always been suspicious about, and to hear from Meera that all those doubts were true, was felt like a knife passing through me, killing any sense of hope I had been unknowingly clinching onto.
“I’m keen to live up to the expectation today, baby.” Desai said.
Desai said and lowered himself to the bed to kiss her. He kissed her until it choked her. “I’m gonna fuck you hard and fill your pussy with lots of cum.” His voice was menacingly brutal, as he whispered.
“I’ve come prepared for that. I have a pill,” Meera revealed out of the blue.
“I was going to ask you about it. I don’t have condoms.”
“I knew you wouldn’t bring.”
“So you bought it for us?”
“Mmm… not particularly for us. I had sex with Krish on Wednesday, and it ended up being a little unplanned… you know. So, I bought it, but I haven’t taken it yet because I didn’t want to take another one after today.”
Meera’s revelation underscored just how much preparation she had put into this tryst with Desai. She had kept the pill unused, fully aware she would need it after this. She had anticipated everything that was happening today. The pill works for up to three days after having sex, so one pill would be sufficient to protect her from pregnancy from both her husband and her lover.
“Oh, Krish…! Lucky my bro. Did he fuck you well, baby?” Desai asked.
Suddenly I was the centre of their discussion.
“Jealous?”
Meera giggled.
“Got to be jealous. The man doesn’t have to wait this long, does he?”
“Yeah,” Meera giggled again.
“It’s good that you’ve thought about this and kept the pill.” Desai said. “Because I’ve been longing for this. It’s gonna be huge. I’ll have to fuck you really hard, Meera. And you’re gonna love it, baby.”
“I love getting your huge ones,” Meera. She was excited about being filled with his huge load, and she wasn’t shy about revealing it.
“That’s my girl,” Desai said joyously.
It was impossible to ignore the boldness in Meera’s tone, a stark contrast to the uncertainty I had come to feel in my own marriage. She wasn’t just admitting how much she craved Desai – she was embracing it. She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. The connection they shared felt deeper than anything I had with her. It wasn’t just physical – it was emotional, too. They were in sync, as though their worlds had aligned in a way that felt foreign to me. The way they spoke, the ease with which they laughed, how they fulfilled each other’s needs – it made my hidden position even more unbearable.
With every breath, every playful word, I was reminded of how far I had been pushed out of her world. She wasn’t just pushing me aside physically but emotionally, too. Desai had claimed something of hers that I couldn’t.
I felt the jealousy twist in my chest, but it was more than that – it was a sense of loss, of being left behind. It wasn’t just about what I wasn’t giving her; it was about how right everything seemed for them and how everything had gone so wrong for me.
"I know, baby," Desai’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and soothing. Then I watched his feet disappear from view as he climbed onto the bed. Only his clothes and her pantie remained on the floor.
Meera soon welcomed his dick back into her pussy, and this time her breathing was more urgent, as Desai began to move faster from the word go. The bed creaked under their movements, and the sound of his dick moving in and out of her wet pussy filled the room, making it harder for me to stay still in my hiding place.
“Isn’t it what you wanted, baby?” Desai asked, without stopping.
“Yes,” Meera breathed.
“Did you miss this moment?”
“A lot,” Meera said.
Desai paused for a moment, then asked, “Did he fuck you yesterday too?”
My heart clenched. He was talking about me.
“No.”
“So it was day before yesterday.”
“Yes…”
“Did you come?” he pressed.
“No,” she said, the honesty in her voice striking.
“So it doesn’t count, then,” Desai concluded.
“Yeah, it wouldn’t,” she agreed, almost wistfully.
The bits of their conversation stung more than I expected. Each word carried a weight that felt too heavy to bear, revealing cracks in the bond I thought Meera and I shared. It wasn’t just what they were doing – it was what they were saying. Every laugh, every tease, every casual mention of us was like a knife piercing into my heart. I wondered if Meera loved feeding Desai's curiosity so much that she wouldn’t mind ridiculing our relationship.
The pace at which Desai plunged into her pussy only increased after their moments of verbal intimacy. Meera's gasps grew louder with his rhythm and soon shifted into familiar cries of pleasure. The sound of the bed squeaking, his dick sliding in and out of her molten pussy, and Meera’s moans combined to fill the room with noise. It wasn’t just fucking; it was an intense invasion of a married woman’s body, splitting not just her physically but severing any attachment she might have felt to her husband. With each thrust, she surrendered to his power, his will, and his vigor, making it feel as though she might never return to the realization that she was married.
 
Desai kept readjusting his position, but he didn’t deviate from the missionary pose throughout their lovemaking. With each pause, the intensity of Meera's soft cries grew. At times, her voice was muffled by his kiss, but the sound of their movements never ceased. I couldn’t help but think he was determined to make her climax again.
They were so consumed by the act that I felt an urge to risk a glance at what was happening. The last time I had seen them together like this was two months ago on the concert night. Since then, all I’d had were the sounds – muffled, distant, and haunting. "The thought that I might leave this moment with nothing but the sight of their feet, despite being just inches away, pushed my desperation to take the risk
I slowly shifted the cartons shielding me, careful not to make a sound. Dragging my body forward on the floor, I positioned myself closer to the edge of the bed. Tilting my head sideways, I cautiously peeped out.
The first thing I saw was Desai’s feet, firmly planted at the edge of the bed. A little higher, Meera’s feet were in the air, her toes curling and moving with every motion. They were lying across the bed, just ahead of where I was hidden.
Holding my breath, I edged out further, inch by inch, until more of the scene came into view. Desai's shirt was still on. But his completely naked lower body came into my focus, his bare ass moving up and down with intense, deliberate movements. The sight was overwhelming – raw and painfully close.
The unpleasant view of Desai's ass, the glute muscles and his anal hole hit my psyche so hard that I immediately wondered where my fate was taking me, all because of my desire for adventure in my marital life. I was watching the ugliest part of Desai's while he was busy breaking every thread that was supposed to keep my marriage intact.
I moved further out until I saw his dick. It was moving in and out of Meera's pussy. It was wet and shiny, with some kind of white liquid having spread underneath it. I felt it was smeared with my wife’s cum from her pussy. I didn’t miss the sight of his huge balls swinging back and forth along with his movements, and hitting under her pussy every time he shoved his dick deep into her pussy. The soft cries and heavy breathing from Meera suddenly felt dominated by the sound of his dick moving in and out of her pussy. I could tell her little hole was completely stretched to contain his full size, and the pleasure she was receiving was undeniable, her body trembling with each intense movement. The sound of her embracing it cut through the air, and it felt like a physical blow to me, knowing I was powerless to stop it. The longer he kept fucking her without stopping or even pausing simply burnt me with jealousy and made me realise why she agreed to this meeting. No woman could deny such pleasure from a man.
And then Desai surprised me by a groan, "yeah....!"  and his movement peaked. "You want me cum for you, baby?" His voice was broken, as he was presumably overwhelmed by the pleasure of eruption from within.
"Fill meee...!" Meera's response was hurried.
"Mmm... Oh my God, my Meera... Here… my everything for you...own me...aaaah...!"
Desai's movement suddenly stopped but I saw him shivering with the pleasure sensation taking over his body. He pushed and squeezed his glute muscles and kept his dick buried inside her pussy, and I knew that was him cumming inside her, filling her with his huge cum load. And Meera's breathing told me how satisfied she felt by receiving his sperm. She had already told him that she had a pill to protect her but I felt she would have allowed him to cum inside her even if she wasn't going to be protected. The energy and enthusiasm in her cries were making me believe that she was ready to do anything to live this pleasure.
Desai groaned a couple of times, before removing his dick halfway and then pushing forward again, as if to make himself cum till the last drop of it was spurted inside her – clearly a sign that he was making sure he filled her pussy with the huge load that she loved to get. I even felt I was going to witness his cum over-spilling my wife’s pussy. But it didn’t happen; surely he had cummed so deep inside her.
“Oh my God. I’ve come, baby. I’ve come like great.” Desai panted; his dick still inside her. “Did you feel it, baby?”
Then I watched his head going down, disappearing from my view, as he kissed Meera hard stopping her from giving any verbal response. I saw Meera's arms circling around his body, around the shirt, as if she didn’t want him to move off her.
“Tell me,” Desai said again, as he broke the kiss.
“I feel so alive, great.” Meera responded, her voice carrying the tiredness from the insane fucking.
Desai leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead. "We’re perfect for each other," he murmured. "I’m glad I got you back, baby."
Meera's hands moved gently across Desai's back, as though she were caressing his body. They were basking in the afterglow, the calm that followed their intense fucking. In that moment, everything outside of them – the world, the tension, and even I – seemed distant, irrelevant. They settled into each other, their breathing slowing as they stayed in the comfort of each other’s presence.
 
The scene I had just witnessed was so impactful that I found myself momentarily lost in the moment. But I knew I had to pull myself back to reality. I anticipated Desai getting up from the bed, and if he did, his foot would likely land right on my face. I quickly dragged my body back beneath the bed, careful not to make a sound as I shifted. Their breathing was still dominating the room. I tilted my head, trying to avoid disturbing the cartons I had arranged around me. Once I was in my original position, I carefully adjusted the cartons, hiding myself further from view. Then, I saw Desai’s feet touch the floor but Meera remained on the bed.
There was a moment of quiet in the room, except for my tired heartbeats. Then I heard Desai's voice. "Meera. What’s wrong?"
His voice was marked with concern. “Why are you so nervous?”
"I’m hurt.” Meera whispered. “And hit with reality. I’ve cheated on him, haven’t I?" Her voice was suddenly heavy as if she remembered something.
"Why do you think that way now?" Desai's voice was light, as he added, "What’s new about this?"
Of course, from Meera's point of view, it was a first for her, this level of betrayal. But from Desai's point of view, they had already slept together behind my back twice.
"You know, one reason that I came here is to feel… free. It feels suffocating to think of always being watched, always feeling like I couldn’t breathe without Krish knowing," Meera said.
"And did you?"
"For a moment, yes. But now..."
Desai let the silence linger before speaking again. "If this is so painful for you, why not leave him? Why stay?"
Meera's reply was quick, before Desai's suggestion could baffle me. "Because I love him," her voice was filled with emotion. "Maybe I should confess to him after this. I don’t know."
Desai fell silent for a second and then spoke, "I’ve been telling you this from the start. You should. You know, Meera, I’m sure if Krish knew we wanted to meet, he would have helped us. He wouldn’t have stood in the way.”
“Then why does it feel so wrong?”
“Because you’re hiding it.” Desai said simply. “We’re creating tensions for no reason. Krish isn’t the man who would fall apart over this. You know that.”
“Yeah, he isn’t. He’s different.” Meera's voice was low. “But so am I,” she went on. "You know, our meeting – whether it’s here or anywhere else – it’s always been a gift from him. I can’t explain it, but I know he knows about us. He’s too smart not to."
I felt Meera was on the verge of confessing to Desai that their previous trysts were not hidden from me. I didn’t want her to reveal too much, to be honest. But I had no say in their conversation.
"That’s unrealistic, Meera. You’re romanticizing something that doesn’t exist. How can he know about this? Or the previous times?"
"I don’t know how, Susheel. But I feel it. Krish always knows. He’s smarter than you think."
"And me? Do you not see me at all? Is this all about Krish?"
"I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t attracted to you, Desai," she admitted, her words piercing my heart like a sharp knife, before she spoke further, "But it’s complicated. You’re not him, and you never will be. No need to compare."
Desai let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Complicated, of course."
Meera sounded pleading after a moment. "I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. But I needed this – I needed you – to remind me of what I was missing and what I still have."
Desai leaned closer, his voice gentle. "Meera," he said while sitting back on the bed next to her, "you’re overthinking everything. You’ve been holding so much inside – it’s no wonder you feel like this."
She sighed. "I don’t know what I’m doing anymore," she murmured. "I feel like I’ve lost control of everything."
From the soft sounds, I could sense he was putting his arm around her, offering comfort. "You haven’t lost control," he said softly. "You’re just scared. You’ve spent so much time living for Krish – worrying about what he sees, what he thinks, what he might do. You need to remember what it’s like to live for yourself."
"And what if I don’t know how to do that anymore?" Meera's voice was softer. She was melting.
"Then let someone else remind you," he said, his voice low but warm.
"I hate feeling this way," she whispered. "I hate what I’ve done, what I’ve become."
Desai stroked her hair, his touch soothing. "You’re not a bad person, Meera," he murmured. "You’re just human. Flawed, complicated, and trying to make sense of it all. Just like the rest of us. You deserve to feel better," Desai said, and went on after a pause, "so stop punishing yourself for wanting more."
There was silence after that. Meera said nothing. And Desai was probably waiting for her to say something – or he was waiting for his words to sink in. I hated the silence more than anything he had said, for I feared he was making space in her heart for him.
 
After a few minutes that dragged me further into dread, Meera suddenly spoke.
“I feel tired. And hungry,” she said.
“We’ll get something online,” Desai replied. I heard Meera's silent gasps for a while. I thought Desai was busy making the food order on his phone. They were surely not planning to depart soon. I didn’t know about Desai's return trip plan. Though I thought Meera might rush back to her office.


After some time, I heard the sound of Meera getting up from the bed. Soon, her feet touched the floor.
"I hope it doesn’t get spoiled," Meera said, her voice filled with concern. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was referring to.
"Your dress is silky, no wrinkles at all. It’s perfect," Desai replied, a hint of admiration in his tone.
"Yeah, I guess. You know, I chose this one because I knew what would happen here," she said casually. She seemed moved on from her emotionally charged state of mind.
“Clever choice,” Desai said.
Meera stood up slowly, and my eyes instinctively followed the movements of her feet. “I’ll take a wash,” she said, turning toward the attached washroom.
Desai grabbed his pants, and I noticed he picked up Meera's panties as well. "Why not take a shower, baby?" he suggested. "Together."
Meera paused, turning back toward him. “Give me that first,” she demanded.
"Tell me," Desai asked, stepping closer.
"What?”
“Shower.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t do my hair here after the shower. I don’t have anything to fix it with.”
“Leave the hair. Let’s just do a body wash,” Desai said, trying to persuade her.
“Susheel! Give me my panties first,” Meera insisted.
Desai stepped closer, their feet nearly touching, and in the next moment, I heard them kissing. The kiss was broken as Meera said, “You’re crazy. Take your shirt off first.”
"Okay, sure," Desai agreed.
I watched their feet moving around as Desai convinced Meera to remove her dress, and he, too, took off his shirt, tossing it onto the bed. One of its sleeves hung from the edge, and I could soon see part of Meera’s dress too hanging off it. I couldn’t help but think about the thoughts running through Meera’s mind as she prepared to undress completely, agreeing to shower with him.
 
They were both naked, except for her bra. And just as I thought about her bra, I heard something fall onto the bed – easily guessing that it was her bra.
Desai took a moment to admire her body, “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said as if he was seeing her naked for the first time, “every part of you, it's perfect.”
“I can’t believe I’m not feeling shy in front of you,” Meera said.
“It’s because you’re starting to feel like you are mine,” Desai stepped closer again, and I felt he was going to take her into his arms again. I heard him add, “And I love it.”
I heard a giggle from Meera, “Maybe.”
I couldn’t help but feel a sickness rise in my stomach. I felt my arousal giving way to stronger emotions, jealousy, anger and a sense of betrayal. They were more intense than before. Though I couldn’t see Meera and Desai, their voice was enough to make me feel like an outsider in my own life.
 
Meera continued, further boiling me with jealousy. “and you look even stronger without clothes. It’s like everything about you is just… powerful.”
Desai's reply came readily, “but you complete me.”
The intimacy and connection they shared seemed so effortless and I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was losing everything. I watched their feet moving to the washroom and the silence that prevailed in the room quickly filled my mind also.
They closed the door but didn’t bother to see that it was left half open, a gesture that made me feel how free they were in this house. They were perhaps overjoyed by the thrill of finally getting a chance to be themselves, without any involvement from me. Soon, I heard the shower turn on, the water flowing, and them exchanging pleasure as they watched each other’s bodies get wet. Meera repeatedly asked him to be careful not to wet her hair. The sound of water stopped soon, but they did not come out. I became alert, waiting impatiently for their return to the room. Then, after close to ten minutes, I heard Meera’s giggle.
It was a soft giggle at first, but it soon turned into a moan. After that, I started hearing her moaning his name many times, and it took me a while to understand what was happening until Meera moaned, “Yes, baby, right there.”
They were at it again!
It took me only a few more seconds to realize that he was eating her pussy there.
The bits of expressions that fell out of the washroom soon helped me get a clear picture of the intensity of the tongue worship Meera was receiving.
"Mmm… So good..."
"I love this... Mmm… yes..."
"Oh my god, baby… right there..."
"Aaaah… just there… Mmm..."
"Baby… baby… slow there… Mmm… you’re killing me… Sush... Aaaahhh..."
Then, suddenly, her moans stopped for a few seconds before I heard Desai asking her, “Look at me, baby…”
A second later, I heard him again. “Remember this moment?”
“Yes.” Meera's voice was barely audible.
“Incredible, isn’t it? Life comes back to give us what we want. These moments make me believe you’ve always been in my destiny.”
“Have I been?”
“Otherwise, we wouldn’t have gotten the chance to live these moments again. Are you ready?”
“Mmm…” Meera's voice soon turned into a moan, and shortly after, I started hearing the sound of their bodies slamming into each other. I knew what had just happened – he was fucking her, yet again. The slamming sounded like his body hitting the fleshy part of hers, and I assumed he was taking her from behind. It was the sound of his hips hitting the back of her ass, probably because she was bent forward, clinging to the commode or washbasin.
The memory of an old night came flooding back – the night I had seen them in my bathroom before I fell while trying to watch them through the window. Just before I fell, I had seen Meera bending over the washbasin, with Desai entering her from behind, and Meera surrendering to the pleasure of complete submission to him. My fall to the ground had caused them to stop, denying them the chance to complete what they had to leave unfinished that night. Yet, after so long, they were here, reliving those moments. And this time, there was no one to stop them.
Surely, life had come back to give them what they wanted.
I couldn’t help but burn with jealousy as Desai used my wife’s body for his nonstop pleasure, ensuring she received the same level of satisfaction in return. Meera was perhaps already close to her orgasm from his tongue work. I heard her let out a suppressed scream as she reached the satisfying end of the session.
"Oh God, that was quick. What have you done to me, Susheel?" I heard Meera ask, after a few seconds.
"This is what my love for you does to you, baby." Desai said.
"I will die of pleasure if I live with you," Meera said.
Desai laughed. And I wondered if she was already picturing herself living with him. I thought about how she might process the immense pleasure she could experience if she left me and settled down with him. The thought felt undeniably cruel.
I heard the water running again, and when it stopped, I heard Meera asking for the towel.
"There’s no towel in this house!" I heard her exclaim.
“Wait,” Desai replied, emerging from the washroom. As he reached the middle of the room, I was able to see him properly as I was lying close to the outer edge of bed, though still hidden behind the wall of cartons. I noticed Desai’s body still glistening, water dripping everywhere. He proceeded to the hall, leaving wet footprints on the floor as he walked. Moments later, he returned with a small white towel, presumably from his travel bag.
As he entered the room, my eyes couldn’t help but focus on his fully naked body – his heavily built frame, muscular thighs, and, of course, his manhood. I couldn’t take my eyes off his dick, still very much erect, just after gifting my wife her second orgasm in the bathroom. It was a bold display of his masculinity – not because there was nothing to conceal, but because it was a statement of his authority, as if he had every right to present himself however he pleased. He was like a lion in the jungle, and I was hiding, stripped of any sense of identity. For a moment, I wondered where all of this was heading. I didn’t know. I certainly didn’t know.
 
Desai disappeared back into the washroom, this time closing the door casually, cutting me off from hearing their conversation. Five minutes later, they both returned to the room. I saw their feet only, and quickly assumed they were both naked.
"I'm feeling cold," Meera said immediately. "I need a shirt."
"You can have mine," Desai offered, grabbing his shirt from the bed and handing it to her.
"Are you sure? Do you have a spare one?"
"Yes," Desai assured her, and I watched him walk toward the couch, the towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He sat down and got busy on his phone, as if attending to something important.
Meera stood by the bed and wore Desai's shirt, and then joined him on the couch.
"Do you have water, Susheel?" she asked.
I noticed the shirt she wore – a cream one with floral designs scattered across it. It was very loose on her, barely covering her thighs. The sight of her creamy legs, coupled with the knowledge that she wore nothing underneath, made her look hotter than ever.
And in those moments I spent a moment watching her face. It was for the first time since arriving at this house, I was seeing her face. And what I saw made my chest tighten. She looked happy, radiant, even her skin glowing softly, her lips slightly parted, and her expression utterly serene. There wasn’t a trace of worry or guilt, only a deep, unshakable contentment. It was no mystery why; she was gifted the pleasure of orgasm twice in just under an hour, leaving her with every reason to feel fulfilled. Her married pussy might have been completely satisfied, her body enthralled in ways that left no room for longing. As I looked on, observing the peace on her face, I felt the sharp sting of envy and despair, knowing that the joy she radiated came from someone else, not me.
 
Desai quickly volunteered to bring a water bottle from the hall. I watched as Meera took it, drank deeply, and handed it back to him. The simple act made me aware of my own thirst, even though I knew there was no way to quench it.
They shared the water and soon settled on the couch, sitting at opposite ends of the three-seater. For a brief moment, they stared at each other before bursting into laughter. At first, I couldn’t understand the joke. Then it struck me – they were laughing at themselves, at the urgency and energy they had shown in their desire for each other since arriving here.
"You made order for lunch, didn’t you?" Meera asked.
Desai nodded.
"How do you know the address?"
"Alpine Heights! It's popular, baby. I'm sure it's worth two crores now," he replied, setting his phone down and looking at her.
"Two crores? You’re kidding!"
Meera smiled, turning toward him as she shifted her folded left leg on the sofa, adjusting her shirt to cover the gap between her legs. But in doing so, she exposed more of her thighs – something she clearly didn’t mind.
"No, baby. It’s in the news," Desai said.
"What’s in the news? My apartment has a two-crore price tag?"
"No, I mean the craze about this place. The rest is my guess, which often turns out to be true."
"Yeah, I have no doubt about your guessing skills," Meera teased with another smile.
Desai suddenly leaned toward her, gently pulling her collar aside to inspect the bare skin beneath.
"Is that a hickey? I didn’t do it,” he remarked.
Meera tilted her head slightly to glance at it and smiled.
"Oh, it’s not you. It’s Krish."
"Wednesday?"
"No, last night," Meera replied, her smile tinged with a pang of shyness.
"You said…" Desai gave her a soft look.
"No, last night I just... He wanted it, but we only did some oral," Meera admitted softly.
Desai smirked, shaking his head. "He gave you tongue?" he asked with a teasing tone.
"No, only me. But he kissed,"
"Must have been desperate for it. Why didn’t you have sex then? Were you saving your energy for me?"
Meera laughed, her amusement delaying her response. Then she spoke, her tone playful yet honest.
"I knew you wouldn’t mind if I came directly from his bed. But yes, I didn’t do it last night because I was excited about today."
"Did you miss me?" Desai asked, his gaze locking onto hers.
Meera bit her lips, staring at him for a long moment, as if deciding whether to laugh it off or speak the truth. She chose the latter.
"In the morning," she said slowly, her voice soft. Her eyes remained fixed on his for a few seconds before she added, "I really missed you when I woke up."
Her words pierced through my heart as I thought of that morning. We had been in bed together, yet little did I know my wife had been longing for Desai. The betrayal cut deeper than I could have imagined. These were the moments that already made me wonder if this was the beginning of the end of our marriage.
I felt as though I was on the verge of hearing my wife commit to his love before their date came to an end.
 
The way she was smiling at him made me think she was inviting him closer, and the way he was looking at her made me think he would soon jump on her.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
 
"The food!" Meera exclaimed, and they looked at each other with a playful, suggestive gesture, silently debating who would attend to the door.
"You go," Desai said.
"Like this?" Meera laughed, pointing at herself, knowing he was teasing.
"Yeah," Desai replied with a smirk as he got up from the bed.
"I hope it’s not a girl," he quipped, walking out to the main door to collect the food delivery, with just the towel around his waist.
Meera got up and followed him to the hall. I couldn’t help but imagine the delivery guy seeing them together like this, in their current attire. The thought of a stranger becoming aware of to their intimacy unsettled me even further. One by one, more people would know. Until, eventually, the whole world would see them as a couple.
 
Once Desai collected the delivery, they stayed there. For the next half an hour, I couldn’t see them as they ate their lunch in the hall. I didn’t feel hungry; I seemed deprived of such feelings.
I could hear them chatting like lovers during lunch. Though their words weren’t clear, the tone of their friendly banter made it evident they were enjoying each other’s company.
 
Meera’s phone rang in the room. The first time, it went unanswered as Meera stayed in the hall. When it rang again, she hurried back into the room to answer it. It was a call from her office, demanding a quick discussion that lasted about ten minutes. As Meera sat on the couch, busy on the phone, my eyes again fell on her creamy thighs.
 
Desai returned to the room soon and settled next to Meera on the sofa. As he sat down, she leaned closer and wiped one of her palms with his towel. Desai helped by wiping the wetness with the towel, and Meera quickly switched the phone to her other hand, offering the one she had just used for him to wipe as well. The silent communication and the unspoken understanding between them made me realize how closely their hearts were beating together. Meera smiled at him after her hands were wiped and then leaned against him, still talking on the phone. Desai wrapped his right arm around her and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, near her ear. And he squeezed her shoulder gently with his hand, silently gesturing for her to continue without worrying about him.
I couldn’t help but sigh silently. Watching them behave so naturally and comfortably with each other made them seem like a perfectly matched couple. They were enviably at ease, as though they had no doubts or apprehensions about how to behave or what to seek from one another. They seemed to know each other inside out, and their pride in this understanding was evident.
Their bond threatened me more than their physical intimacy ever could. In fact, witnessing them have sex had already lost its shock value. But seeing them interact like this, developing a smooth camaraderie off the bed, was now giving me a new sense of horror.
It was exactly what I had come to find out, and I was finding out.


Chapter to be continued...

[krish_999]

Chapter 49 continues...


The phone call ended soon and Meera kept the phone down.

“You were saying something.” She turned to him, keen to continue the conversation they were having while having lunch.
“Waking up is a special feeling.” Desai smiled and said, "My biggest fantasy is to wake up with you." Meera was amused to hear that.
Desai went on, "I keep dreaming of us going to bed at night, staying there together, and waking up in the morning – our hands intertwined, our bodies close. All those moments would give us the feeling of being one, just you and me."
Meera teased, "You're turning romantic as you get older." She laughed. "Do you have any plan to make that happen?"
“Yeah,” Desai grinned. "I’ve come across a bamboo house resort down south. I think you’d love it. It’s like a hidden paradise. Imagine us walking on beautiful wooden pathways, surrounded by lush green grass. The huts are super private, with bamboo walls that keep us tucked away from the world."
Meera listened, intrigued.
"Inside, it’s cosy and spacious. We could enjoy breakfast together in a lovely lounge area with comfy sofas and hanging chairs. Upstairs, there’s a big bedroom with a king-sized bed that would be ours."
Meera smiled at him when he mentioned the bed. "And then?" she asked.
Desai continued, "And a balcony that has the most incredible views. We could relax on the balcony’s netted extension, taking in the scenery. The area is like, surrounded by tall grasses and banana plants, making it feel peaceful and secluded. At night, the place lights up with soft, glowing lights that look like tiny diyas, giving it a magical feel."
He looked at her, his voice softening. "I think this would be the perfect escape for us. What do you think? Ready for a romantic getaway?"
Meera raised an eyebrow. "How can you be so sure about the privacy there, considering it’s not a foreign country?"
Desai grinned. "A friend told me about it during its construction. When I visited, I loved it so much that I immediately decided to buy it."
Meera stared at him, her eyes widening. "You’re not saying you own it, are you?"
Desai nodded. "I’m saying exactly that."
Meera smiled in surprise. "Were you thinking of me when you bought it?"
Desai laughed. "I was thinking of us."
She shook her head, amused but sceptical. "You’re crazy to spend money on such a distant possibility."
Desai smirked. "It’s not a distant possibility anymore."
Meera stared at him, even her eyes smiling at him now.
 
Desai pulled her closer, gently pressing his lips to hers. Meera responded, her lips meeting his in a soft kiss.
Desai's hand surrounded her, feeling over her chest. With no bra under her shirt, Desai easily found her nipples and caressed them. His hand then lowered to feel the side of her belly, and Meera broke the kiss, leaning forward, away from him. Desai's hand moved further downward to caress the side of her butt, and he let out a sound of excitement as he squeezed its softness.
Meera turned her head to look at him over her shoulder and smiled. "Don’t start thinking of any crazy ideas," she warned.
"We have all the time in the world," Desai whispered, his voice low.
"Not today. Let's not spoil the romantic feel today," she said. "Maybe at the resort, though," she added, a hint of mischief in her voice.
Desai smiled, "That sounds perfect."
Did she just agree to accompany him to the bamboo resort already? And, did she just promise him anal sex there?
Desai was indeed making his moves steady and fast.
 
“How is it that you went to that resort alone, by the way?” Meera asked.
“It was during the final stages of its construction when I visited it for the first time. The second time I visited, I had already become the owner,” Desai said, then added, “I no longer take my female friends to such places.”
Meera smiled, “Why so?” Her smile told me she already knew why.
“Because I’ve committed to you,” Desai's voice was soft and steady. “I know we can’t be exclusive, but I’m happy to think of myself as yours.”
“Mmm…hmmm…!” Meera bit her lips. “I can’t believe how you’re making me feel like this.” She turned to him and leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his neck. Desai lifted his chin, allowing her to show her affection. Meera kept kissing around his neck, one after another, until she pressed a little harder.
Desai winced slightly, a mix of surprise and pain in his eyes.
“Now everyone will know there’s someone,” Meera murmured with a teasing smile, pulling back to inspect her work. She was leaving a hickey on his neck!
I was stunned to realize the depth of her action, leaving a hickey on him.
Meera moved to the other side of his neck and gave a bite there too.
“That’s two!” Meera said.
"You’re making your mark," Desai said, touching the spot she’d kissed, his voice filled with admiration.
“I love how much comfortable we are, baby,” he went on.
"Only because you make me feel this way," Meera replied.
“It makes me think of what could have been if we could be together.”
“I’m married, gentleman.”
“Still.” Desai nodded. “I can wish, no?”
“What else do you wish?”
“You know I’m kinda scared of you getting pregnant.”
Meera gave him a surprised look. “From you?”
“No, from Krish.”
“Oh, but why?”
“If you get pregnant, this all will end, wouldn’t it?”
Meera giggled. “Don’t worry. I haven’t decided on that.”
“You never thought of motherhood?”
“I will. Not so soon.” She said and then added, “What about you? Thought of marrying someone and getting into fatherhood?”
“I’ve thought of marrying you and getting both of us into parenthood. In my dreams.”
I was stunned to hear that.
“You should discuss it with Krish,” Meera said and burst into laughter. “Maybe he’ll allow you.”
“Will you allow?”
Desai pressed.
“Mmm…” Meera pretended to give it some thought. “How many kids do you want?”
“Two.”
“Mmm?” Meera smiled at him amusedly.
“One boy and one girl. One like you and one like me.”
“Sounds good. Have you thought of their names?”
“I thought of the girl’s. Susheera.”
Meera's eyes widened further. “That’s clever.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes.”
“She would be beautiful like her mother. The most beautiful one.”
Desai's voice was so soft I felt he would make her promise him this wish too.
“And the boy will be like you? A playboy?”
“We’ll groom him as we like.”
“You know what?” Meera patted his cheek slowly, and then pressed her cheek against it. “It feels great to talk to you like this.”
“You taught me to talk like this… I mean with heart. That’s why you are closer to my heart than anyone in this world.”
“Awww!” Meera gasped and pinched his cheek, “Stop making me blush like this. I’m not a teen.”
But I could tell she was feeling like a teen.
“You know,” Desai grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her lips. “I can make you feel great even when not talking like this.” He said and kissed her again. Meera's palms started roaming his chest. The kiss soon grew deeper, and soon I knew they were at it.
 
Meera was the first one to show signs of breaking the kiss, and she soon went down to his chest, kissing along. She sucked on his tits, and Desai leaned back on to the hand rest of the couch.
"I want to tell you that I’ve committed to you," he said softly. "I know you can't be mine exclusively, but I want to celebrate our little moments in a great way. I’m yours, baby."
The sincerity in his voice simply killed me. But there was more to come as Meera looked at him and smiled. She then pressed her lips to his chest, and this time she bit him with her teeth.
“Aaah…ouch!” Desai's voice rose, both from the intensity of her love bite and the unexpected nature of her bold move.
Meera pulled back briefly, her fingers tracing the mark she had left.
“Mmm…okay.” She smirked again. “This one looks even better.” She said joyously.
“I love to think of it, baby.” Desai smiled, “though I’m sure no one’s gonna see it.”
Their gaze lingered for a moment, the unspoken understanding between them deepening. Their eyes spoke the language I struggled to understand.
Meera put her hand on the towel, "You’re too comfortable, aren’t you?" she said with a small smile.
"Let’s see how confident you stay," she said, her tone light but filled with mischief. Slowly, she unfolded the towel, revealing his body further. Desai didn’t say a word, but the slight curve of his lips showed he was enjoying her playful command of the moment.
Kneeling slightly on the couch beside him and grabbed his throbbing member. Her fingers wrapped around it, and I saw it clearly. My wife was not getting tired of his dick. She slowly started jerking it, and Desai’s breathing grew deeper. Meera leaned closer, and as I held my breath, she brought her mouth closer her lips hovering near him, but she paused, glancing up at his face with a sly smile.
"You always know how to keep me on edge," Desai murmured.
"I thought that’s what you liked about me," Meera quipped, before she darted her tongue out to give a long, deliberate lick under his shaft. As her tongue reached its tip, her lips closed in, and it appeared to me she was trying to suck it – albeit just half of its round head. She kept the lips on it, and her jaw moved, and I felt she was teasing his pee hole with her tongue. A moment later, she paused and looked up.
“Do you want to know what my fantasy is?”
Desai's eyes widened. So was I, surprised to hear her.
“What is it?”
“This is…” She smiled and went down to repeat another round of her long lick under the whole length, and this time at the end of it she opened her mouth and took him all the way into her mouth. She then removed it and looked at him again.
“But in my fantasy, I’ll make you cum just with my mouth. I know it’s gonna be tough, but that’s the fun. And I’m gonna squeeze out…and swallow it all… just by sucking.”
“I’m already waiting for that to happen.”
Desai quipped.
Meera's head went down to start sucking him. I saw her lips stretching around it. She had decided to take the lead, showing him just how much she wanted him.
 
Meera's fingers had shifted to the base of his length, and her head started going up and down, stretching her lips around it. I saw it all clearly, all of it. At times she was slow, at time she was fast. Desai’s head fell back against the couch, his hand instinctively resting on her shoulder, a quiet gesture of connection and appreciation. The room filled with the sounds of pure form of sucking, and I had to admit that it was disgustingly arousing. But a part of my body was still awake to feel the pain of it; and I knew the pain was only going to grow.
Soon, Meera's hair flowed downward to block my view of the battle between her mouth and his dick.
Desai's free hand occasionally rested on Meera's head, a gesture that felt both casual and commanding. I couldn’t pull my gaze away, no matter how much I wanted to. The stark contrast between his relaxed mood and my hidden, powerless position was suffocating. It wasn’t just what Meera was doing – it was the ease with which she gave herself to him, the quiet confidence she exuded, and the way Desai seemed entirely in control yet wholly appreciative of her.
As my wife’s head kept bobbing up and down, I couldn’t help but wonder how she could give in to this with such enthusiasm.
A sense of devastating helplessness washed over me as I suddenly felt this was not just an incident of betrayal. What was unravelling in front of my eyes was a bond that had gone far beyond anything I could intervene in and to stop.
 
Meera's face was hidden from my view, drawing my attention to Desai's expression. He was revelling in the pleasure of his dream woman performing this act of worship, and from the way he was breathing, I thought he was too engrossed to try to control himself. I could foresee him letting out a groan and shooting his load into my wife’s mouth. Meera had tasted his cum many times in the past, and I thought this time she would do it in front of me.
 
However, Meera pulled back before it was too late, and they quickly moved in perfect sync to advance to the next stage. Meera stood up, threw her hair behind her head, and moved her hips onto his lap. They exchanged no words, but both seemed to understand what the other intended. Desai gently guided Meera to sit on his lap, and she grabbed his member, guiding it into her. All of this happened while they were locked in an intimate gaze. Meera slowly began to move as soon as she sat completely, taking his entire length into her.
 
Meera’s one leg was on the floor, and the other was folded on the couch, resting to the right side of Desai’s lap. Desai soon grabbed her shirt and began to pull it off. Meera stopped moving to quickly help him remove it. They were completely nude, and I saw Desai’s eyes widen with pure joy at the sight of her bare breasts in all their glory. He slowly reached out to caress them with his palms before pulling Meera close to him.
Meera leaned forward, letting her lips merge with his, and I saw Desai’s jaw move as he sucked on her lips. His arms slid downward on either side of her torso, feeling the softness of her body. He squeezed her love handles, then moved his palms to grip her ass cheeks. Meera’s arms rested on his shoulders, and as their kissing progressed, her fingers circled around his neck as if she was trying to choke him. I saw her body straightening, seemingly in an attempt to assert her dominance over him.
Meera was clearly trying to take control, and Desai seemed to love playing the submissive role for now. His head tilted backward until Meera broke the kiss and stared into his eyes.
For a second, they said nothing. Then, to my disbelief, I saw Desai open his mouth like a child waiting for a lollipop. And as I watched in shock, Meera spat into his mouth!
She waited until he swallowed it and opened his mouth again.
She repeated that act, this time gathering more saliva in her mouth and dropping it all into his mouth.
“Swallow it, Mr. Desai,” she whispered, but her tone sounded like an order.
I was stunned to see how Desai, a man who otherwise carried a dominant personality, had suddenly adopted a submissive role, completely drawn to this act of lust. No, he was turned into a slave by Meera.
“This feels special, honey,” Desai gasped after swallowing her spit.
“Then suck me,” Meera said, darting her tongue out and holding it above his mouth. Desai lifted his head, engulfed it with his lips, and sucked. Meera let him suck for a few seconds before pulling away.
She stared into his eyes. Before I could wonder if she was trying to see me in him, her words confirmed it. “You’ve become special to me,” she said, her voice warm and full of affection.
“Have I?” Desai asked, his voice low, filled with the vulnerability of the moment.
“You have,” Meera replied, her smile widening.
“I love these moments, Meera. I love you,” Desai said.
 
My heart felt like it was about to stop. I thought I was going to die. I knew it.
 
Meera didn’t reply, almost sparing me from death. Instead, she began to move – up and down – riding him. Her hand gently caressed his chest as she continued her rhythm, the soft connection building between them.
In a moment of tenderness, Desai whispered, “Do you want me to be him?” His voice was soft.
Meera paused for a moment, her eyes locking with his as she considered her answer. “No,” she said firmly, yet with tenderness. “I came to meet Susheel. You’re... exactly what I need now.”
“Mmm... then I know how you’ll like it,” Desai said, sitting up on the couch. He swiftly got to his feet, their hips still connected, and then laid her down on the couch. He ensured his dick didn’t slip out of her pussy.
Meera grabbed his muscular upper arms to steady herself and giggled, “Wow,” amazed by his strength in lifting her like a toy. Her eyes remained locked with his, further expressing her amazement. She wanted him to fuck her hard; I could tell.
Desai laid her down on the couch, spreading her legs wide apart. He placed his right knee under her ass and adjusted himself with his hand. As he moved, his dick fell out of her pussy. He grabbed it quickly and began to guide it back into her and then paused.
“Mmm... which one?” he asked.
I couldn’t understand.
“Haha… bad idea. No,” Meera laughed again.
I realised he was teasing her about shoving it into her anal hole. The man seemed too tempted by the idea, but Meera didn’t want to spoil her ‘romantic date.’
 
The next moment, Meera’s laughter faded as Desai’s hips lowered, and he entered her exactly where she wanted.
“Aaah… God!” Meera let out a moan.
Desai paused, as if to savour the pleasure of filling her completely once more.
“Do you remember those old days, Meera? When you played so hard to get? Not giving me a chance at all?”
“Yeah. I was scared,” Meera admitted, “of what it could become. Of everything.”
Desai began to move slowly. I couldn’t see his face, but Meera’s eyes were locked on him.
“I thought I would never get this far. But look at us. We were destined to be here, to get what we’ve deserved.” He leaned down, landing a soft kiss on her lips before pulling back. “I never imagined this, you know. I dreamed of you, of being this close, of feeling this... real connection. And now that it’s here, I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to leave you.”
Meera held his gaze, her eyes soft with understanding. “Fuck me… Susheel… Fuck me hard… till you are satisfied. I’m all yours today.”
“I know that, baby. You are mine.”
His hips moved slowly back and forth, but it was far more painful to hear them talk than to see it. They were sharing more than desire – it was about connection, trust, and the comfort of knowing they had found something deeper than they ever expected.
 
Desai’s pace quickly increased as he began to drive into her with such intensity that she started crying out in pleasure, though she was far from reaching her orgasm.
Desai’s hips moved up and down at times, then he adjusted himself, fucking her back and forth. I could sense he was trying to hit various spots inside her, and he was quite successful at it.
“You’re killing me with pleasure... Susheel... Aaah...” Meera cried out, writhing in pleasure.
“It feels great to fuck you so hard... Meera... I want to fuck you many more times... We’ll meet again like this… promise me.”
Desai spoke through his heavy breaths. His voice had turned into an animalistic grunt, charged with extreme lust.
“Yes...”
“Meera... just love this...”
“Mmm...”
“My baby... are you feeling it?”
“Mmm... aaahhh...”
“Baby... do you want me to cum?”
“Yes... yes... please... aaah...”
“Then come for me... let me take you there... one more time...”
Meera’s voice trembled, “I’ll do whatever you wish... oh my god; I’m losing my mind... Susheel... aaah... I’ve never met a man like you. I wish... I could make my life yours.”
“Aaah…Meera…I wish we did….” Desai gasped. “I can have anything in this world, but I can’t be your husband, right?”
“Susheel…”
“How much do you love Krish, baby?”
Meera met his gaze, her breath in sync with his, and for a moment, I wondered what was going through her mind.
“Look at me…” Desai continued, his voice a low growl, “like I’m him.”
“You… want to be Krish?” Meera asked, her voice shaking along with her body as he continued to fuck her faster.
“Call me Krish, and say how much you want me, baby…”
“Krish…”
“Say it, my love….”
Oh my God…” I watched Meera close her eyes for a moment before opening them and locking them with Desai's. “I love you… Krish… Oh my God… I can’t…”
“Meera I want to make you mine….mine only…”
“Make me yours now... make me feel this... make me cry.”
“Say you love this…say you love me…Meera….”
“I love you, Krish….”
Desai had found a way to make her say it again – to play the role of me, to make her repeat those words that should have meant something else, something true. It was his desperate trick, I thought. A desperate trick to be on the receiving end of her love, with a sense of honesty.
Desai’s movements grew faster, and Meera's cries became louder, a mix of pleasure and need. “Please... Krish...” she moaned, her body trembling.
“Baby I’m gonna fill you…”
Desai's voice had almost become a grunt. I knew he was about to shoot and fill her pussy with his cum again.
Meera's eyes shut tightly, and her eyebrows furrowed. Then she cried out,
'Krish… fill me, baby… fill me… give me a child…'
The words hit me like a blow to the chest. I watched as, with one final thrust, Desai groaned deeply, his grip tightening, his ass cheeks clenching as he shot his load inside her and started filling her.
Meera opened her eyes and clung to him, crying as she welcomed yet another orgasm, the most powerful of the day. She looked lost in the pleasure. The sensation had risen to an insane level, as if the world around them had ceased to exist. Desai made sure to move swiftly, jerking his dick inside her a couple of times, as if trying to squeeze out the maximum amount of his sperm into her.
But more than the sight of him filling her with his sperm, the words she spoke hit my psyche hard.
I was struck by the chilling thought that, next time they were together, Meera might not just be repeating a fantasy. She might be receiving him – his sperm, his child – something that could become real.
Soon after, Desai collapsed, lying on top of Meera. Her arms circled him once again, as if welcoming him with all of her heart. She was overjoyed, completely satisfied by the thrill of it.
 
Desai sat up after a short stay in her arms, and Meera smiled at him.
“You nearly killed me,” she said, her eyes shining with satisfaction and admiration. I hated to see it.
“I would love to repeat that again and again,” Desai replied.
“It’s gonna take a few days to recover,” Meera responded. She got up and tied Desai's shirt around her waist. Her upper body was still completely naked, but she seemed unconcerned. There was no trace of shyness in her demeanour.
Desai, too, sat back on the couch, completely naked. Meera went to the bathroom, and Desai got up. I saw his now limp dick hanging between his legs. It was shiny with white traces of fluids, both from him and Meera. His muscles were more visible now, after the heavy workout. Desai grabbed the water bottle and quenched his thirst.
 
Meera returned soon after, and as she walked over to Desai to grab the water bottle, I noticed she had put on her bra. It was a light green one, matching the colour of her panties which I had noticed earlier. Meera drank the water, and I could tell she was thirsty. I had forgotten about my thirst long ago.
They sat on the couch again, but Meera quickly got up, saying she would love to have some coffee.
“I have a coffee powder pouch in my bag,” she said and walked out of the room, pausing at the door. “Try to wear something before I return, mister,” she added with a smirk.
“Yes, my queen,” Desai replied.
He got up, walked over to the bed, and began putting on his clothes. His shirt was still around Meera's waist, but after putting on his pants, he went out. When he came back, he was holding a new shirt in his hands, presumably from his briefcase. By the time he had put the shirt on, Meera returned with two cups of coffee.
They were small Borosil cups without handles. I could see the black coffee in them as they sat on the couch and drank. They talked about random things related to their office work. Meera was still in her bra and seemed completely at ease. Desai, too, didn’t try anything mischievous. But as the conversation progressed, Meera leaned against him for no apparent reason.
 
“Meera,” Desai spoke after sipping the coffee. “We won’t delay it for 40 days next time,” he said.
“I’ll first have some rest,” Meera chuckled.
“Are you going to tell Krish?”
“I’m scared. I want to, but I’m scared.” Meera said.
“Should I?” Desai asked.
“What?”
“Should I confess to him? I don’t want to cheat on him like this.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
Desai paused, trying to read her face before replying. “I’ll face Krish if it ever comes to that. But I won’t say a word unless you want me to.”
“Don’t tell him,” Meera said firmly.
Desai shifted the cup in his hands and put his arm around her to hold her close. Meera leaned in, as if welcoming his gesture. “I didn’t come here to create complications, baby. I just wanted to see you, to be with you. And now that you’re here... I’m so happy.” Desai said softly.
Meera turned to look him in the eyes. Desai leaned towards her, aiming for a kiss. Meera hesitated at first, and then slowly gave in with a smile. Desai slowly brought his lips to hers, and Meera moved back after the soft kiss.
“You are done, okay?” Meera said with a smile.
“Just one more.” Desai pleaded. Meera's smile widened and she gave in again. This time Desai kissed her more intently. Hard and deep, pouring all his emotions into the moment.
This is never going to end. I thought.
“The next when we see, I’d like it to be at the Bamboo Resort.” Desai said as he broke the kiss. “Just the two of us. We’ll live out our fantasies.”
Meera let out a soft sigh, “I’m not sure. I don’t know how.”
“There’s a way,” Desai said, “If you confess that we’ve met here, I’m sure he’ll find peace with it. After that, he might even allow you to travel with me.”
Meera was equally stunned as me. “How can you be so sure Krish would find peace with us meeting here, having sex like this?”
“I know Krish very well. He’d be thrilled to know the details.”
“I don’t want him to turn back to those days, Susheel.” She paused before adding, “That’s the whole purpose of me agreeing to meet you here. To leave those days behind.”
“Come on, Meera. You’re not doing anything to him. He is what he is. If he knows, he’ll be excited, and that’s not his fault. We’re having fun, but why is it only us? That too when we both know he can also have fun.”
Meera closed her eyes briefly, her voice wavering as she said, “I’m broken between yes and no.”
Desai’s tone softened. “Meera, do you think he’s truly moved on?”
She hesitated before responding, “No. But he’s trying.”
“Are you sure?” Desai's persistence was annoying.
Meera fell silent. Nothing came to my mind other than her remembering what happened on Ritu’s wedding night when she returned to me – to see me having masturbated in her absence.
Finally, Meera spoke, her voice barely audible.  “No.”
Desai leaned closer, his voice steady yet persuasive. “Then you know what to do. Give him what he wants, Meera.”
I was stunned by the way Desai was feeding her ideas so that he would get to live his fantasies. Bamboo resort. Waking up with her. Spending time. Walking together. Making love. Holding hands. Owning her. Anal Sex.
 
Fortunately, the coffee was finished, and Meera rose from the couch. She handed the empty cup to Desai and asked him to put the cups in the kitchen. 'I’ll get dressed in the meantime.' I watched Desai walk out obediently with the cups. By the time he returned, Meera was already dressed.
 
“When’s your return flight?” Meera asked as she stood in front of the dressing mirror, probably redoing her makeup.
“I’ll hire a taxi,” Desai replied casually.
“Mumbai?” she asked without turning.
“Yes,” he confirmed.
Meera finished getting ready in a few minutes. Desai, too, packed his clothes and towel into his briefcase. Just as they were about to leave, he brought the conversation back to the hot topic.
“So, when will we meet again?” he asked.
“Actually... I’m scared to think about it,” Meera admitted.
“Scared? Or... thrilled?”
A small laugh escaped Meera’s lips. “Thrilled too,” she confessed softly.
I could sense amusement in Desai's voice. “I knew it. You’re as eager as I am. I can already picture us at my Bamboo resort, baby. Don’t you want to live our fantasies?”
“Yes,” Meera whispered, almost shyly.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “I can’t wait,” he said. Then, he added, “Think about what I told you earlier. About confessing to Krish.”
Meera hesitated, “I don’t know…”
“Meera,” Desai said gently, his tone steady, “You know it’s the right thing to do. Trust me, it’ll only make things better – for all of us.”
I wanted to shift myself toward the edge and try to catch a glimpse of Meera. But I didn’t dare to move as the room was filled with silence. Meera was thinking about what Desai said. After a long moment of silence, she spoke.
“Okay. I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.
“That’s my girl. You won’t regret it, Meera. I promise.”
There was a sense of triumph in Desai's voice.
 
I couldn’t look at them. I lay paralyzed beneath the bed, my heart pounding in my chest as Meera’s voice echoed in my mind. She had agreed to confess her betrayal, but it wasn’t guilt that drove her – it was strategy. She wanted my permission to go with him, to spend time with Desai at some resort.
 
Beside me, I heard the faint shuffle of their feet as they walked, but I was frozen – too stunned to care about what they were doing. The soft creak of the door signaled their movement toward the exit. Their voices grew softer, the occasional laugh or murmur drifting back to me.
A part of me wanted to leap out, to scream and silence the maddening thoughts. But my body wouldn’t respond. My mind was reeling, trapped in a loop of her words, the weight of her betrayal suffocating me.
The door clicked shut behind them, and the apartment fell into silence. I didn’t move.
 
For what felt like hours, I stayed there, beneath the bed, staring blankly at the underside of the wooden cot. Too shattered to do anything but exist in the void they left behind.
 
When I finally got up, my legs refused to hold me. I sank onto the bed, numb. Meera and Desai’s voices echoed in my mind, refusing to fade, their words like arrows piercing through me.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
My wife was going to confess to me that she had met Desai here and had sex with him. But it wouldn’t be guilt that drove her. It wouldn’t be remorse. It wouldn’t even be love. No, it would be a calculated, deliberate confession. She would confess – not to make amends, but because she and Desai had decided it was time to exploit what I had tried so hard to bury.
The realization hit me like a tsunami.
 
I thought I could move on. I thought I could reclaim her. Reclaim myself. But now, the reality was clearer than ever.
I was a willing cuckold, and there was no way to escape this fate.
 
I had convinced myself that being a cuckold was a transformation – a phase I could outgrow, a twisted trait I had picked up somewhere along the journey of my life. I thought I could bury it deep enough that even I wouldn’t be able to find it. I thought I could escape it.
But I was wrong.
 
There is no such thing as an “ex-cuckold.” You don’t get to decide whether to be one or not. If someone has experienced the life of being a cuckold and enjoyed it, even for a moment, it’s impossible to forget.
Desai knew that. He had seen it in me from the beginning. And now, Meera did too.
Desai’s smooth voice echoed in my mind: “I know Krish very well. He’d be thrilled to know the details.”
Thrilled. That’s what they believed.
I pressed my palms into my face, trying to contain the fire of devastation coursing through me. My wife and her lover weren’t just exploiting my nature – they were uniting against me, using the very thing I had tried so desperately to escape.
It’s like booze. You know it’s injurious to health. You know it’s going to demand more from you, even as it makes you demand more of it.
 
I had thought I could quit. I had believed I was strong enough to walk away. But now, I wasn’t so sure.
Meera and Desai knew my nature better than I knew it myself. Their plan to manipulate it to their advantage suffocated me. This wasn’t just about their betrayal – it was a brutal reminder of who I was.
 
Can we really quit? Can I really quit?
The answer stared me in the face, sharp and cruel.
There is no such thing as an “ex-cuckold.”
There never had been.
 
=====xxxxx=====

[krish_999]

I think I might be able to post the next chapter on Sunday. 19th Jan.

[krish_999]

Chapter – 50

 
The silence in the house was unbearable. I sat on the balcony outside the hall, staring blankly at the street below. Meera and Desai had left half an hour ago, but their presence lingered, like a shadow behind me. The words they spoke and the expressions they shared with each other played over and over in my mind, but trying to make sense of it felt useless – like trying to catch water with my hands.
I wanted to leave, to escape the suffocating stillness, but I couldn’t. The door was locked, and Nidhi had the key. She also had my phone, leaving me with no way to reach out or distract myself.
I let out a bitter laugh. I was trapped – not just in this apartment, but in my own thoughts. When I decided to watch Meera and Desai, I thought I could handle it. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Time dragged painfully. I walked back to the room, frustration building under my skin. I tried to force open the front door, pulling the handle, but it didn’t budge. Yet, the real weight wasn’t the lock; it was the consequences of my choices. Thinking about my future left me confused; thinking about my past left me angry.
I wandered around the house with no real purpose, feeling caught in a void, unsure of what to do next.
 
Then, the sound of the door opening from the outside caught my attention. A few seconds later, I saw Nidhi entering the house. Relief and irritation mixed in my chest as I watched her. Her face was calm, but there was a sense of curiosity in her expression. She glanced at me, then scanned the apartment before her eyes returned to mine.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her tone neutral at first, then turning curious. “Is everything okay?”
I didn’t answer. Words felt useless, too small to describe the chaos inside me.
Nidhi gave me a strange smile, her eyes sparkling with curiosity – maybe even excitement. It felt like she wanted to pick apart every detail, as if she couldn’t wait to hear the story.
I stood there, my emotions a complete mess – anger, frustration, betrayal. It wasn’t just about Meera and Desai anymore. It was everything, all at once, crashing down on me. The weight of it made me want to scream, to smash something, to let it all out. But I didn’t. I just stood there, frozen.
 
“So?” Nidhi asked, her voice eager. “What happened, Krish? Tell me.”
I didn’t want to answer. How could I? But her expectant, insistent gaze pinned me in place, making it hard to ignore her. I felt embarrassed, afraid of being humiliated when she found out the truth.
“Did you see them?” she pressed, her smile widening. “How did it happen? What did you feel?”
Each question cut deeper, leaving me hollow. My heart raced, and my breath felt shallow. I wanted to tell her to stop, to leave me alone, but no words came out.
“I…” I started, but the sentence crumbled before it could form.
“You’re not saying you don’t want to tell me, are you?” she said, her smile sharpening. “You watched them, didn’t you?”
“I saw… I saw everything,” I finally said, clearing my throat to continue. “Everything.”
Nidhi’s eyes gleamed at my admission, and she stepped closer. Her gaze flicked to my lips before returning to my eyes. For a brief moment, it felt like she was waiting, daring me to say more.
“What did they do? You’ll tell me, won’t you?” she asked softly, but her voice held a demand – it was clear she needed to know.
“Yeah, I can tell you…” I started, then paused to take a deep breath. “They were…” I paused again, glancing towards the bedroom before turning back to Nidhi. “They enjoyed it. I mean… a lot.”
 
I saw Nidhi’s eyes sparkling with excitement. I was slightly surprised that she wasn’t trying to hide it. Her curiosity made it clear she’d been waiting for this moment. I realized that, apart from the brief moments before and after Meera and Desai’s time in this house, I had been so absorbed in the situation that I’d lost track of time. It had been more than three hours. Nidhi must have been waiting for those three hours to pass, eager to learn what had happened inside these four walls. It had likely been a tedious wait for her.
“Where were you, by the way?” I asked. “Were you waiting outside the building? Didn’t you go back to the office?”
“Leave that, Krish,” Nidhi interrupted, her eyes locked on mine. “Tell me, what do you mean by 'they enjoyed'? How? What did you see? Did you see it with your own eyes?”
Her eyes were more impatient than her words, and they seemed to slip out of her grasp more often than she could hold them. Her hands shook slightly, betraying her nervousness.
“Take a breath, Nidhi,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips without meaning to. Her curious face and nervous mannerisms suddenly eased my mind. “Why are you acting so nervous?”
Nidhi stared at me in disbelief. “Am I nervous? Yes, I’m nervous. But how the hell – pardon my language – are you not nervous? Don’t tell me you watched it and enjoyed it all too.”
“Why? Can’t I enjoy?” I asked. “Why should they be the only ones having fun?”
“So they had fun!” she said, her voice sharp.
She bit her lip and looked toward the rooms. Her gaze shifted between the doors, trying to process everything.
“They slept in that room,” I said, pointing to the master bedroom.
Nidhi glanced at the room, her curiosity almost tangible.
“Can I see?” she asked without looking at me, and before I could answer, she began walking toward the door. She pushed it open and stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. I followed, standing behind her and looking over her shoulder. The bed was untouched, the lack of sheets or any cloth on it making me wonder if Nidhi would refuse to believe it. The bed looked intact – there was no evidence of what had happened between Desai and my wife.
Nidhi took a few steps inside and stopped a short distance from the bed.
“In this bed?” She turned her head to look at me.
I nodded. “Hard to believe?”
“No,” Nidhi said quietly. “I can smell him here.”
It took me a moment to process what she said and realize she meant him – Desai. I was stunned.
“How?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“His… you know…” Nidhi hesitated, but I was already taking a deep breath, trying to make sense of what she was saying. It was then that I noticed it – the lingering scent. There was a distinct smell in the air. The smell of cum, still hanging in the room. Desai had filled my wife with his cum twice and made her climax three times. I had been so caught up in the chaos of the situation that I hadn’t realized it before. But now, with Nidhi’s words, the scent became undeniable. The smell of him. The smell of her. The scent of them together – it was all there, thick in the air.
“Yeah, I didn’t notice that,” I said, my voice thick. “Meera was… screaming. Crying with pleasure. After a while, I couldn’t hear or smell anything.”
It was more than I ever thought I would witness.
Nidhi’s eyes locked onto mine, her excitement growing.
“Did you watch them? Where were you hiding?”
She asked, her voice low and almost eager.
I hesitated, but her relentless stare left me no way out. “I was hiding under the bed,” I admitted, the words spilling out like a confession. “They started on the bed. I couldn’t see much at first because they were on it. Then they moved to the bathroom. And finally, here...” I gestured toward the couch, my voice dropping. “That’s when I saw everything clearly.”
Nidhi’s eyes followed my every gesture, her curiosity sharpened. She wanted more, perhaps hoping to hear every detail from me.
“Did Desai sir make Meera mam hit her peak?” she asked slowly. The tenderness in her voice felt like an attempt to soften the question, but her curiosity was impossible to silence.
“You don’t already know the answer to that?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustration. I wanted her to remember how she had surrendered to Desai’s charms, unaware of the way he had manipulated her. For a brief moment, I hoped it would make her reconsider Meera’s actions – based on her own experiences, perhaps. I wanted it to take away some of the sting of knowing that my wife had been with a man superior to me.
Nidhi’s lips curled into a small, almost amused smile. “Yeah, I can’t forget how it felt when I was with him,” she said softly, her voice low and filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. She inhaled deeply, “I can still remember the smell.”
She stepped closer to the bed, as if examining it, and I followed. I could feel the heat radiating from her, my pulse quickening. The back of my hand brushed against hers, sending a jolt through me. Nidhi was completely absorbed in what she was looking at, her gaze fixed on the bed. I too looked at the spot she was staring at. There were dried drops on it, and I knew exactly what they were. It was the same place where I had seen Desai’s dick going in and out of Meera’s pussy. The dried spots of his cum – or hers – brought it all back. I could hear Meera’s moans echoing in my mind. I wondered if I should tell Nidhi what I had witnessed, but I hesitated. My mouth parted, about to speak, but instead of revealing more, I asked something else.
“Do you want to sit there?”
Nidhi turned to look at me, and I saw something shift in her – an intensity that pulled me in. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She seemed lost, uncertain of how to make sense of what she was feeling.
“You can sit if you want,” I said, my voice shaky. “It’s okay.” I held my breath, trying to sound unaffected. “It’s your first time, I guess. Being in someone else’s bedroom. Just like this… There’s a thrill attached to it, isn’t there?”
Nidhi nodded and then bit her lip. “I feel strange,” she admitted, her eyes returning to the bed. Her hand shifted, brushing against my arm. My chest tightened. The way she looked, the way she breathed – it was all too much. The pull between us was magnetic, undeniable, but neither of us made a move. I stayed where I was, letting our skin touch, the connection electric.
 
“Nidhi…” I finally spoke. In the same instant, my hand seemed to move on its own, reaching out to gently grasp hers. She turned toward me, her eyes searching mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a crack in her armor – a raw vulnerability she quickly tried to conceal. But it was too late; I had already seen it, and it struck me like a spark in a dry forest. We were lost in each other’s eyes.
She didn’t step back. Instead, she leaned in ever so slightly, as though testing the tension between us. I could feel her breath now – shallow and quick – and it mirrored the chaos inside me. Her fingers clasped mine, and our grip tightened instinctively. Neither of us wanted to pull away.
It was her eyes that broke the staring contest we were locked in. For a brief moment, her gaze dropped to my lips before flicking back to meet mine. That fleeting glance was enough to tip me over the edge. My chest tightened, my pulse thundered in my ears, and I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer.
Without thinking, I closed the distance between us and kissed her. It wasn’t planned, nor was it controlled – it was raw, impulsive, and driven by an overwhelming pull I couldn’t resist. I swallowed her lips with an urgent desire to quench a thirst I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.
 
The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by the raw energy between us. It wasn’t just a kiss – it was an explosion, a release of everything we’d been holding back. Frustration, jealousy, and a desire I hadn’t allowed myself to feel until now came crashing together, drowning out everything else.
Nidhi responded with equal intensity, her hands sliding up my chest and pulling me closer. Her body pressed against mine, the space between us vanishing, replaced by a heat so overwhelming it was hard to breathe. As I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, I felt her upper lip meet mine with the same fiery intensity.
It felt like every unspoken word, every hidden emotion, had led us to this moment. The voice in my head telling me to stop faded into nothing. There was no past, no future – just this, the undeniable connection consuming us.
I kissed her harder, my hands gripping her waist as though holding onto her would anchor me in the chaos. She melted into me, her body soft yet electric, surrendering completely to the energy crackling between us. I felt her tongue searching for mine, and without thinking, I paused, then opened my mouth to meet her halfway. Our tongues tangled, slick and desperate.
“Take me, Krish,” she whispered against my lips, her voice low and urgent, carrying a need that sent a shiver down my spine.
Her words unlocked something deep inside me, unleashing a surge of raw, uncontrollable energy. Without a second thought, I pulled her toward the bed, our lips still locked, our hands moving with frantic urgency. We fell onto the mattress, the world spinning as my senses drowned in her – her warmth, her touch, the way she clung to me as though trying to erase any space between us.
I kissed her everywhere, driven by an overwhelming need to feel every inch of her. The frustration, the anger, the confusion – all of it dissolved in the heat of the moment, in the chaos of our bodies meeting. Suddenly, this girl was my entire focus, and the weight of everything else disappeared.
As she lay stretched across the bed, her body arched in a way that sent a shiver through me. She was lying exactly like how Meera had been lying on it a few hours ago. The realization hit me like a sensation, and I felt I was being drawn into this by my fate. Earlier in the day, my cheating wife had been lying in this bed under another man, and now I was the cheating husband, lying over another woman on the same bed.
Like she had accepted another man to replace me, it was now my turn to replace her with another woman in bed.
It was Nidhi.


A small voice inside me whispered for me to stop, to pull back before we crossed a line we couldn’t return from. But the primal urge was too strong – the need to give in, to lose myself completely in this connection.
I kissed her harder, deeper, and tried to overcome my hesitations. Nidhi’s hand was all over me, her fingers intruding into my hair. I broke the kiss soon, only to drop my lips down to her neck. I didn’t hesitate to suppress my hunger, and I licked her skin, making Nidhi gasp for air. Then I dropped myself further down, bringing my lips onto her breasts, kissing over her shirt to feel the softness. As I dropped further, moving over her thin fabric, both of my hands moved to her chest and caressed her breasts over the clothes. As my lips found her belly, Nidhi grabbed her shirt to pull its lower hem from inside the pants. She pulled it enough to reveal her belly, and my next kiss was straight on her navel. It was soft, and her belly was throbbing with anticipation of my touch. Her navel button was a small pit, and I darted my tongue into it before licking it all over. I inserted my right hand under the shirt she was pulling up, and I soon met her bra cup. I pushed even further to invade her bra cup from the lower side, and soon I felt the whole of her softness under my grasp. Her breast was not as big and round as Meera’s, but it had a tenderness that came with her young age. However, the erection of her tit was easily recognizable. Nidhi was aroused like hell.
“Krish… take me.” I heard her whisper again. Her voice carried even more urgency and vulnerability. She wanted me to take her sooner than it was going to happen.
I pulled my hand back from her breast and quickly started unbuttoning her pants. I then pulled them down with the same sense of urgency. I didn’t get up as I did that; instead, I dropped to my knees and pulled her pants all the way down to remove them from her legs. I struggled a bit to take the tapered end of the pants off her ankles. By the time I pulled the pants off her completely, Nidhi had already inserted her thumbs inside her yellow panties, as if asking me to pull them off too. I didn’t hesitate to appreciate her gesture and pulled them off with remarkable ease. Before I knew it, I was kneeling on the floor by the edge of the bed, and my head was ready to get buried between her open legs. My hands trembled as they traced the curve of her waist, and I could already anticipate the moment when I would be gripping them tight and pushing my dick into her pussy.
I leaned down, my breath uneven, and her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on. My mind was lost in it, and I let myself get lost in the moment as my head went down. Nidhi’s moans rose, and I felt her whole body throbbing under my touch. I felt a sour taste in my mouth. For some time, I lost track of my actions, time, place, and everything.
Everything was a blur. And during that blur, suddenly, the memories of how Desai had subjected my wife to the same pleasure earlier in the day came back to my head.
Why?
I heard a question inside my head. Then, like a lightning bolt cutting through the darkness, a sharp clarity struck me. It was my own voice, loud and clear, breaking through the fog.
Stop. This was too far. This wasn’t right.
I pulled away abruptly, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart pounding in my chest.
Nidhi’s gaze met mine, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.
“I – I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice shaky. “We can’t do this.”
My hands trembled as I stood up, stepping back. A heavy sense of wrongness washed over me. I felt like I’d crossed a line I shouldn’t have, like I was repeating the same mistakes all over again.
“We shouldn’t do this, Nidhi. I mean… we’ll complicate things and find it hard to face each other… tomorrow,” I managed to say.
Nidhi’s eyes flickered with disappointment, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain any more. I didn’t even know how to make sense of what had just happened. The weight of my actions pressed down on me, guilt and confusion swirling together, leaving me feeling lost.
 
Nidhi quickly grabbed her pants that lay next to her and sat up. She was still breathing heavily, as if struggling to get out of the world that I had dragged her into. She didn’t speak at first, just stared at me, as if trying to piece it all together.
I stood frozen, waiting for her anger, her frustration, or even her disappointment to surface. But instead, she took a deep breath, steadying herself, and then nodded slowly.
“You’re right,” she said softly, her voice calm but resolute. “I understand.”
Her words were a huge relief. Whatever admiration I had for her multiplied instantly. She had the heart to acknowledge that our boundaries were not to be crossed, no matter how tempting the situations were.
 
We didn’t speak for a moment, just stood there in the heavy silence that followed, neither of us sure of how to navigate the next steps. We didn’t face each other either. Nidhi slowly began to wear her clothes, and I exited the room. She went to the washroom and then came out perfectly dressed, back in her office getup.
We maintained the silence as we left the apartment. The ride back to the office was quiet, the tension still hanging in the air, but somehow more manageable now. We had a mutual understanding, a silent agreement not to let things spiral out of control.


When we arrived at the office, Nidhi was the first to break the silence. She stood by my desk, her eyes soft yet resolute.
“I want to thank you,” she said, her voice steady but with a hint of gratitude. “For stopping before things got out of control.”
I nodded, unable to form a response that felt adequate.
“I also think…” she hesitated, then continued, “I also prefer our friendship.” Her smile returned, though this one felt different – softer. “We can share more with each other that way, without complicating things.”
Her words grounded me. A surge of relief washed over me, followed by a feeling of pride that she understood what I was trying to protect. Without thinking, I stood up and pulled her into a hug. She hesitated for just a second before wrapping her arms around me, and for a moment, everything seemed to fall back into place.
“I’m happy you understand, Nidhi,” I whispered, my voice full of sincerity. “I’m glad we’re still on the same page.”
She pulled back slightly, her smile now genuine.
“Me too, Krish. Me too.”
After she exited my office, I sat alone there, leaning back in my chair. The visuals of Nidhi’s face, her eyes, the way she moved, kept flashing before my eyes, each one a searing reminder of what had almost happened. For a few minutes, my mind was far from the memory of my wife’s nonstop mating with her lover, and it was stuck back at the house, reliving every moment in vivid detail.


I hadn’t allowed myself to fully process it earlier, but now the memories were flooding back, sharp and unrelenting. I remembered how Nidhi looked at me when I removed her panty. Her eyes were filled with an urge to see what I was up to, how I was going to treat her. And then, when I parted her legs and lowered my eyes into her pussy. How I grabbed her thighs and pulled her waist closer to the edge of the bed, and then how I landed a soft kiss on her pussy, which soon turned into an attack on her wetness. Her pussy lips were thin, and as I ran my tongue over them, Nidhi let out a noisy moan, telling me how much she was awakened by my touch. There was a tiny black mole on the right side of the lips, and it looked cute. I had licked over it just for fun, and Nidhi let out a small giggle due to the tickling touch. But the most vocal response was when my tongue traced up along the slit to find the clit – it was like a small hump – and started to tease it with my tongue tip. The grip on my hair tightened, telling me where I should lick more. And I did, making her moan again and again. I remembered how the wetness started to ooze out of her, and I slurped it every now and then. Soon I was everywhere, from licking the clit to sucking the lips to eating the whole pussy with my mouth open. The sound of her gasps, her moans, was filling the room, and I was completely lost in the pleasure of tasting her until her body started trembling. Everything had become a blur at that moment, but now it was all coming back to me. How she was crying in pleasure, and how I tasted a sourness which at the moment I madly devoured as if it were sweet, and how her whole body had throbbed with insane pleasure. She had come. Nidhi had received an orgasm, just by my licking her. It had indeed gone to the territory of no return for her. And that explained the way she struggled to come out of those moments when I stopped everything. The tired look in her eyes, and the sense of satisfaction marred by disappointment that followed, everything suddenly came back to my mind.
Indeed, she was glad that I had stopped.
But she had gotten some pleasure.
I laughed to myself when I thought how I had placed my hands on her hips, ready to pull her closer, to lose myself entirely. But luckily, something inside me had screamed for me to stop.


Thinking about the present, I was glad that I had stopped, without permanently hurting my relationship with her. If I had sex with her, I was sure it would have just been the beginning. I would be seeing her every day in my office. And she would be ready. Every day, every meeting, every gesture, every thought of each other, would lead to nothing but sex.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk and burying my face in my hands. The weight of what had happened – and what could have happened – pressed down on me.
Then I heard a question from within.
Was that the real reason, or the only reason for my withdrawal?
No. There was also a sense of guilt that had been growing inside me from the moment I touched Nidhi. It was there until it burst outside of me.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor snapped me out of my thoughts, and I quickly straightened up, forcing my mind back to the present. But the memory of that moment, of Nidhi and everything that had happened at the house, stayed with me, refusing to fade.
I didn’t feel the urge to continue working. But I couldn’t do anything about it either. I continued sitting in my office, avoiding any human interruptions, lost in my thoughts. The hum of the fluorescent lights seemed to amplify the silence. I felt like I was trapped in a loop of my own making, a maze of thoughts that twisted and turned with no clear exit. The memory of what had happened with Nidhi was fresh, vivid – a haunting reminder of the line I had crossed. But even as I tried to process it, my mind kept circling back to Meera and Desai.


I tried to make sense of myself, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Why did I feel guilt when I got intimate with women like Maithrei and Nidhi, yet feel a strange sense of excitement when Meera found pleasure with Desai? If Meera could enjoy sex with Desai, shouldn’t I also be able to explore intimacy with other women without feeling this way?
But the truth was something else – I had kept my encounters hidden from Meera, all while spying on her to uncover what she was doing. The contradiction in my actions was glaring, yet I couldn’t fully grasp it. I felt like a stranger to my own character, caught between conflicting desires, emotions, and a deep sense of hypocrisy I couldn’t ignore. Of course, I was a hypocrite who wanted to keep secrets but yearned to take pleasure in knowing every secret of my wife.
My mind soon shifted to the possibility that Meera would soon be sharing another ‘secret’ of her life – how she met Desai and slept with him behind my back.
I wondered how I should react when Meera confessed to me about it. I wondered how she would confess. Would she seek forgiveness? The thought seemed absurd. Why should she ask for forgiveness?
I leaned back in my chair, letting my thoughts take over.
What would I have done if Meera had told me, openly, that Desai wanted to meet her at Alpine Heights? Would I have stopped her? The answer came quickly, uncomfortably.
No, I wouldn’t have stopped her.


I would have let her go. More than that, I would have wanted to watch. The realization settled heavily in my chest, a knot of conflicting emotions tightening in my stomach.
I imagined them together, right in front of me, and felt the familiar pull of desire. If I could strip away the emotional weight, the jealousy, the possessiveness, I knew I would want to see them again. But that was the problem – the emotional part couldn’t just be removed. It clung to me, a constant reminder of the pain and confusion tangled up in my feelings for Meera.
And yet, there was a strange sense of clarity now, one I hadn’t felt before. Nidhi had given me a chance to vent my frustrations, to unload the chaos that had been building inside me. And the way I managed to stop it midway, to assert some control over my impulses, was a revelation. It gave me a glimmer of hope, a sense that perhaps I could navigate these murky waters, these conflicting desires, with a little more self-awareness.
 
I thought about Meera. It was clear she craved Desai, not just for pleasure, but for the freedom he represented. He gave her the escape from her structured, high-pressure life that I couldn't. He offered her something I hadn't – the freedom to breathe, to feel unburdened by ambition and responsibility.
I couldn't deny it anymore. Desai was her release, the key to a pleasure I had failed to provide. I remembered how she had screamed with pleasure, cried in ways I never had the privilege of seeing with me. Each memory of those moments was a painful reminder of my failure, of how I had taken her for granted.
The more I thought about it, the clearer it became – I wasn't just failing her; I was holding her back. She had gone to Alpine Heights to feel free, to escape the suffocating weight of my presence, my constant surveillance. Her heart was beating to a different rhythm, a rhythm I had ignored for too long.
Before the hurt became irreparable, before regret consumed me, I knew what I had to do.
Meera and I had shared great moments of passion, but those moments had run their course. It was time to let go. She deserved to find her own fulfilment, to live without the weight of my insecurities. And I deserved the same – to rebuild, to figure out who I was without her, to embrace the unknown.
The decision settled in me; it was not an easy one but a necessary one.
We needed to part ways.
We needed to part ways for the sake of both of us.
 
 
When I reached home that evening, the weight of the day hung heavy on my shoulders. The exhaustion from the whole day’s events was pressing down on me. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong.
Meera was sitting on the couch, her face buried in her hands, her body trembling.
"Meera?" I called softly, my voice laced with concern.
She looked up slowly, her eyes red and swollen. It was clear she had been crying for hours. Her lips quivered as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.
I sat with her, my heart already pounding in my chest. "What happened?"
For a long moment, she just stared at me, her expression a mix of guilt and pain. Then, in a voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, "I met him."
There she was. I didn’t need to ask who she meant.
"At Alpine Heights," she continued, her voice trembling. "I... I slept with him."
For a moment, I didn’t move. I just stood there, trying to guess what made her confess.
It was nothing like what I had feared earlier in the day. I had feared that she would confess to me to make me attracted to the idea. But here, I saw a woman who was deeply in pain, in remorse. Her tears were real, just like the night after the concert.
I remembered how she had told Desai she wanted to confess to me but was scared of it. I felt she was confessing for her, not for Desai.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. My voice was cold. "Why not keep it to yourself?"
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes again. "I couldn’t. I couldn’t hide it from you, Krish. I felt guilty. I had to tell you."
I exhaled sharply, fully knowing the futility of her confession. I wanted to scream, to shout, but I didn’t. "And now?" I asked, my voice quieter. "Do you feel any better?"
"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I feel worse."
And then she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Her cries were so raw, so filled with regret, that it almost seemed like the world was crumbling around me.
"I love you, Krish," she sobbed, her voice muffled by her hands. "I love you so much. I want to promise I don’t want to do this again. I’m sorry."
Her words cut deep, a mix of guilt and vulnerability that twisted inside me. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her everything would be okay, but I knew it wouldn’t be.
"I’m sorry," she cried, her voice shaking. "I’m sorry for everything. For being distant, for questioning your proposal about having children... I was wrong, Krish. So wrong... I... Krish, I want to be the mother of your child," she said through her tears, her voice full of desperation. "I want us to have a child, Krish. I want us to move forward, to leave everything behind... just be us."
Her hand reached for mine, trembling as it touched my skin. Her eyes searched mine, pleading for something – anything. Forgiveness, maybe, or just an answer.
But at the same time, a chilling thought suddenly surfaced – an unsettling possibility that I immediately wished to push away.
Could there be something worse than this?
I replayed the events at Alpine Heights in my mind, her gaze locked on Desai, her body and mind seemingly consumed by him. Then, a memory from those moments resurfaced – a moment when she had asked him to give her a child. At the time, I had dismissed it as nothing more than roleplay, a fantasy in the heat of the moment. But now, as I sat here, hearing her talk about wanting our child, doubt began to creep in.
What if she hadn’t taken the pill? What if...
My fists clenched involuntarily, my nails digging into my palms. I hated myself for even letting the thought take root, but it wouldn’t leave me.
“Did you take the pill after... after you were with Desai?”
I asked. Meera’s expression froze. Her tears stopped mid-flow, her eyes widening in shock. For a moment, she looked as if I had struck her.
“What?”
“You heard me,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Did you take the pill after you had sex with him?”
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to process the question. Then, she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I took the pill.”
I thought her answer would give me relief. But instead, the fact that I had to ask this question, that this doubt had even taken root in my mind, felt like a wound that might never heal.
Meera looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Krish, I wouldn’t...” she started, her voice faltering. “I wouldn’t do that.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The distance between us, once just a subtle rift, suddenly felt far wider.
Meera took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “When I said I wanted a child, I meant our child, Krish. Yours and mine.”
 
For a moment, I forced myself to believe her words. I felt the tension in my shoulders easing slightly, and a flicker of hope igniting within me. I wanted to lose myself in the idea that we could start over, that the wounds we had inflicted on each other could somehow heal.
But then, like a reflex, reality snapped back into focus. The weight of everything we had done, everything we had become, was too much to ignore.
I took a deep breath, pulling my hand away from hers. “Meera,” I began, my voice steady but heavy. “We can’t stop this now.”
“What?” Meera stared at me. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice broken.
“Like you, I have a secret to share,” I said, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I’ve been holding this in for too long, and it’s time you knew.”
Her expression froze, and after taking a deep breath, I spoke.
“I had sex with Maithrei,” I said, my voice calm but deliberate. “It happened weeks ago.”
Meera stared at me for a few seconds, as if trying to figure out whether I was just making it up. Then she asked, “When? And how?”
“It was after you slept with Desai, on the night of Ritu's wedding,” I said, my voice rough with the weight of the confession. “I was frustrated, angry, hurt. And then… I ran into Maithrei. One thing led to another, and we ended up in my car. We had sex.”
Meera stared at me, her face pale, her eyes wide with disbelief. “In your car?” she repeated.
“Yes,” I said, gathering the courage to be more honest. “And to be honest, it was a satisfying experience. It gave me an outlet for everything I was feeling at the time.”
“Did you meet her again?”
“No,” I said truthfully. “But I can’t say it won’t happen again. Because today, when I found out that you and Desai were meeting at Alpine Heights, I was frustrated. That frustration… it almost led me to have sex with Nidhi.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “Nidhi?” she whispered, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. But then, the realization hit her, and her eyes filled with another kind of horror. “You knew?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her words. “You knew about Desai and me at Alpine Heights?”
I nodded. “I knew,” I said. “Two days ago, you left your laptop here, and I saw your chat with him, planning the meeting, before you deleted the chat history. I’ve known all along.”
Meera was stunned. She grabbed the armrest of the couch for support. The silence that followed was deafening, filled only with the sound of her shallow breaths and the ticking of the clock, counting down the moments of our unraveling.
I drew in a shaky breath, gathering the courage to say what I knew I had to.
“And Meera,” I said, “After today, I’ve decided that we need to part ways. For both our sakes.”
She was on the verge of crying again as soon as she heard me. “Krish, no – ”
“I’ve made my decision,” I interrupted, repeating myself. “We need to part ways. For both our sakes.”
“No,” Meera shook her head, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her voice broke as she spoke further, “Don’t make that decision, Krish. Please.”
Her tears came harder now, her shoulders slumping as she buried her face in her hands. “I know I’ve hurt you,” she sobbed. “And I know your reasons make sense. But… I don’t want to leave you. I love you, Krish. I love you more than anything.”
Her tears were making me soft. But I knew this was the right decision – the only way to move forward.
“Meera, I believe you. I believe you love me. But love isn’t always enough. Desai loves you too, and he’s better suited for you. He’s the man who can give you everything you want.”
She looked up at me. “Don’t say that,” she cried, shaking her head. “You’re wrong. I don’t want Desai. I want you.”
“Meera, Desai is a changed man. I’ve seen it. He can give you the happiness and freedom you need – the kind of life I haven’t been able to offer.”
“I don’t care about any of that!” she exclaimed. “I care about you. About us.”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to hold my ground. “Desai can offer you everything, Meera. He’s the one who truly deserves to be your man. Not me.”
“You’re wrong. You’re so, so wrong. There’s no one else for me, Krish. I don’t want a life with Desai. I want a life with you.”
“Meera, you need to open your eyes and see the truth,” I said firmly. “Our life together has hit rock bottom. Your body and your mind – they’re craving Desai. You want more of him. Don’t deny it.”
“That’s not true; you’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one I’ve wanted. Desai was… he was just a game. A game that we played together, wasn’t it?”
“Meera, you’re lying to yourself. I’ve seen how he makes you feel. I’ve heard it. You don’t need to pretend for my sake. Just go to him.”
“Krish, tell me the real reason. Why are you suddenly leaving me? I’ve slept with many men in the past. With and without your permission. Ashish, remember him? You didn’t have this much of a problem back then. But now, you’ve jumped to this decision without even talking to me? Why, Krish? Why are you doing this? Is it because of Maithrei? Fine! You slept with her! I don’t care! I just don’t care anymore!”
“It’s not about Maithrei, and you know it.”
“What do I know?”
“Everything changed since the night of the concert, Meera. I heard your conversation with Desai. The way you enjoyed… I mean, the way he’s given you pleasure… your bond. I can’t replicate that. I can’t match that.”
“But that was months ago. We’ve talked about how he forced me and how I was lured by the memories of our past. But you’re holding on to something that happened months ago?”
"It wasn’t just that night," I pressed, my voice growing firmer. "The night of Ritu’s wedding, when you went to his room – I had bugged that room, Meera. I heard every word you said to him."
She stared at me.
“I had a feeling that you would do that. But I wasn’t sure.”
“You didn’t know it when you were having sex. Your emotion was honest. From that night, I knew you’d love to do it again.”
“But you had masturbated that night, probably listening to the sounds. You were excited. If you have a problem, you should’ve told me to stop. But you can’t stop yourself – that’s the truth,” she said bitterly.
“Yes, I can’t stop. This is me now trying to stop,” I said.
“Is this another experiment of yours? We’ve tried to separate already, Krish.”
“But this time it’s different. Your heart belongs to someone else. It doesn’t belong to me anymore.”
“You’re fucking wrong,” she cried, her voice cracking. “You’re so, so wrong. There’s no one else for me, Krish. I don’t want a life with Desai. I want a life with you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. “Meera, I wish I could believe that. But I can’t. Not after everything I’ve seen and heard. The way you laugh with him, the way you light up around him... I’ve never seen you like that with me. And I can’t live with the doubt anymore. I can’t live with the ghost of him in our marriage.”
“I don’t care about him!” she shouted. “I care about you! About us! Desai was... he was a game that we played. We agreed to play because we both liked the game. Now, if you want to stop, then let’s stop it. We can draw lines… we can keep him away. Please…”
I looked at her, my heart breaking all over again. “But today, you met him secretly; you even wanted to hide it from me. I don’t know what changed afterward, but why did you hide it from me in the first place?”
“Because... I didn’t want you to be excited about it.”
“And now? You wanted me to be excited about it? Is this part of a plan that you made with him?”
“I confessed because after it happened, I felt bad. I felt like I stabbed you in the back.”
“Meera, leave the confession part. It happened because of a reason. Let’s not deviate from that. You can’t deny it, the truth. You wanted him. You still want him.”
Meera shook her head and covered her face with her palms. She was crying again. She leaned forward and dropped to the floor, her knees giving way beneath her. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered. “How did I not see this? How did I not know this much was happening around me?”
I knelt in front of her. “Because you didn’t want to see it. Neither of us did. But we can’t keep pretending, Meera. You and Desai... you bring out something in each other that I never could. And honestly, I can’t stop my own messed-up fantasies either. If we want peace, a real chance at happiness, we have to let this go.”
She looked up at me, her tear-streaked face filled with anguish. “I don’t want this,” she shouted. “I don’t want to lose you, Krish.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You already have.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and final. I stood up, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on my shoulders.
 
Meera sat there on the floor, her sobs echoing in the silence. The weight of her pain filled the room, pressing down on me like a vice. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay – but I couldn’t. Not this time.
After a long pause, she looked up at me. “So, that’s it, then? You’re giving up on us?”
“I’m not giving up,” I said quietly, “I’m choosing to let go. There’s a difference, Meera. Holding on to something broken – it’s killing both of us. And I don’t want to keep hurting you. Or myself.”
“You’re wrong, Krish. We can fix this! We can rebuild what we had. You don’t have to do this!”
She was on repeat mode.
“Rebuild?” I echoed bitterly. “With what, Meera? Lies? Secrets? The memory of you with him – those moments you shared – it’s etched into my mind. And I know I’ve failed you too. I’m no saint in this. But I can’t keep pretending this is something we can just patch up and move on from. Meera, I know you love me. But love isn’t always enough. You and I – we’ve been holding on to something that isn’t there anymore. And you can’t deny that part of you feels more alive with him. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard it in your voice when you talk to him.”
“Don’t say that. Please, Krish. You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You say that now, but I’ve seen the truth, Meera. You deserve to be happy. Truly happy. And I think Desai can give you that.”
“You’re just trying to push me away. You’re trying to make yourself the bad guy so you can feel less guilty about leaving!”
“I’m not trying to be the bad guy,” I said softly. “I’m trying to be honest. For once, I’m being honest with you – and with myself.”
I stood up and went on. “I’ve made the decision. And I’ve also decided that I’m handing over Vickey Security Services to Desai.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it was a gift from him.”
“No! Krish, that business is yours. You worked for it. You built it. You can’t just give it away like that!”
“But it came from him,” I replied, turning to face her. “And I don’t want anything that ties me to him – or to you. I’m done.”
She stared at me, her expression a mix of shock and devastation. “You’re throwing everything away,” she whispered. “Not just us – everything you’ve worked for.”
“Maybe I am,” I admitted. “But it’s the only way I can move forward. I need to start over, Meera. And so do you.”
She didn’t respond, her tears falling silently now. I knew there was nothing left to say, nothing that could make this any easier for either of us.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. “Prepare yourself for the goodbye, Meera. That’s all I can tell you now.”
That night, there was no resolution to our argument. We shared the same bed, but the distance between us was wider than ever. We both knew we were in need of help, but neither of us reached for the other. We lay there in the darkness.
In the morning, as I opened my eyes, I found Meera standing by the bedside, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. Her face was drawn, her eyes puffy, but there was a softness in her gaze, a vulnerability that pulled at my heart.
"Morning, Krish," she said quietly, holding the cup out to me.
I took it, sitting up slowly.
"I want to apologize again, Krish," she said, her voice trembling. "I know I’ve hurt you deeply, and I’m so sorry."
"Meera," I struggled to make myself audible. "You need to see the reality. We can't continue to live like this. Our life together has hit rock bottom. You crave him, Meera. Your body, your mind – they crave him. Don't deny it."
"Are you angry because I met Desai without telling you?" she asked.
"Yes," I admitted, "I was angry. But this incident proved something else too – that you need some freedom."
"Freedom?" she looked at me.
I nodded. "You wanted to go to Alpine Heights with Desai, and you didn’t feel the need to tell me. You even went as far as deleting the chats. That says something, doesn't it? And what about when I spied on your WhatsApp chat? Didn’t that make you angry?"
She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I have no right to be angry," she said softly.
"Didn't you feel the need for freedom?" I pressed. "If not, then why didn’t you tell me when Desai proposed the meeting?"
Meera hesitated, her lips trembling. Finally, she said, "Yes, I didn’t want you to know about it. When Desai proposed the meeting, I was... excited. Especially that morning when I woke up. I was thinking about him. I wanted to be in his bed, Krish. I wanted to be treated the way he treats me in bed."
The confession was raw and unfiltered, breaking through the walls she had built around her desires. A truth that terrified and intrigued me, all at once. I could see it in her eyes – she wasn’t holding anything back now, speaking from the very core of her feelings. "But," she continued, her voice trembling, "That doesn’t mean I love him. I wanted to have sex with you too.”
"Do you really not have any feelings for Desai?" I asked, struggling to contain my own emotions.
"Is that what you believe?” she responded, looking up at me.
"I believe you're drawn to him. He excites you. He challenges you. He brings out a side of you that you've never shown me."
She shook her head. "No, Krish. You're wrong. You're so, so wrong. He's just... different. Exciting. But it’s not love. It’s not the way I feel about you. You know, whatever I have in me, this feeling you're talking about, I can let go of that, if you can let go of him. That’s what drew me forward. If I was with him, it was because of you, Krish. We had stopped, hadn’t we? Then you brought him back. Not suddenly, but little by little. Inch by inch. Slowly working on your fantasies. I’m your partner not only in life, but in your fantasies too, Krish. Try to understand that. I don’t have these fantasies if I don’t have you."
I didn’t say anything. Meera continued. "You didn’t want me to tell him that you knew about the night of the concert, and then about Ritu’s wedding night. In his mind, and between me and Desai, those instances were already painting me as a cheating partner. If I could sleep with him twice behind your back, why should I stop at a third time? The only person who can stop it is you. You can do that, even now."
She paused, looking at me with hope. "I don’t want to lose you, Krish. Our marriage, I don’t want this to be over."
I stared at her, her face etched with pain and confusion. For a brief moment, I saw the woman I had fallen in love with – the one who had filled my life with joy and warmth. But then the image of her with Desai flashed in my mind: the way she had looked at him, how she had responded to him. The flicker of hope that had ignited in me quickly died.
"But it’s over, Meera," I said, my voice firm. "We can’t go back to what we were. You need to understand that. It’s over. Let’s move on."
Her eyes flashed with anger. "You're unbelievable, Krish!” Her voice rose. “You're pushing me away because you're afraid! Afraid of losing control, afraid of facing your own insecurities!"
"Meera," I began, but she cut me off.
"No," she raised her hand to stop me. "Don’t say anything. Just... just go wherever you want."
Without another word, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
 
However, she phoned me later that morning after I had reached the office.
"Krish, I was thinking… Maybe we could see a counsellor together?"
She was trying to find a way. I thought about opening up about our life in front of a counsellor. The thought of talking about our life’s secrets to a stranger simply repulsed me.
"I don’t think that’s a good idea," I said.
"Why not?" Meera asked. "Don’t we owe it to ourselves to at least try? To understand where we went wrong?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Meera, this isn’t about where we went wrong. This is about what’s already broken. Some things can’t be fixed."
"I understand you’re upset, but this isn’t just about you or me. This is about us. About everything we’ve built together, Krish."
I waited for a moment, then ended the call. There seemed to be no end to these talks, and I told myself, it’s pointless.
As I thought about her phone call, I realized she was trying her best to save the marriage. She loved me, that much was clear. And I was left wondering if I was being too hasty.
Am I throwing it all away?
But then the image of Meera with Desai flooded my mind – the way she had looked at him, how she had responded to him, her body drawn to his in a way she had never been with me. That memory erased all my doubts instantly.


"So that’s how it’s going to be," I muttered to myself, the bitterness rising in my throat. "Meera in Desai’s bed. Permanently."
 
 
Chapter to be continued...

[krish_999]

Chapter 50 continues...
 

That morning when Nidhi arrived at the office, she looked more beautiful than ever, a newfound confidence in her step. Perhaps it was the unspoken understanding between us after what happened the previous day – how we’d chosen to remain friends, saving ourselves from embarrassment, which only seemed to draw us closer.
"You look beautiful today," I said before I could stop myself.
She paused, locking eyes with me, a smile spreading slowly across her face. "Thank you, Krish sir."
Her response was casual, but the way she said it carried a sense of excitement in her voice. There was a curiosity in her eyes, something I had noticed the previous day. I felt it was because she probably thought I had had a fantasy-filled all-night encounter with Meera.
But neither of us talked about anything personal apart from professional matters that day.

 
Later that evening, Meera phoned me again.
"I’m home early," she said, her voice softer. "I don’t want to be alone. Can you come?"
Nidhi was in my cabin when that phone call came, and I was sure she heard Meera’s voice.
"Okay, I’ll be there soon," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
As I hung up, Nidhi’s smile lingered a moment longer, a knowing glint in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking, imagining what might happen next. But instead of excitement, an unease settled over me.
I glanced at her again, her eyes fixed on me. I decided to leave immediately, wanting to escape the weight of her scrutiny.
 
Back at home, Meera thanked me for coming. She didn’t mention the crisis at all.
After having coffee, she suggested a walk, and we went. We spoke about random things, anything to avoid the confrontation that was looming between us. With each step, the silence deepened, the emptiness growing more palpable.
That night, we slept in the same bed, just like the night before – with a wide gap between us.
 
The next morning, I woke to find Meera sitting by the bed, a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness, mirroring my own.
"Good morning," she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper.
I took the coffee and thanked her.
We sat in silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the bedside table.
 
Later at the office, Nidhi couldn’t help but notice the shadows under my eyes.
"So, how did last night go?" she asked, her tone casual, but her eyes filled with mischief.
I met her gaze but didn’t want to say anything.
"Guess," I replied.
Nidhi smiled. "I can imagine."
 
For two days, Meera didn’t bring it up again, but the silence between us was suffocating. Finally, I asked, "Did you talk to Desai about it?"
She shook her head. "No, I won’t. There’s nothing to discuss."
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I took a step forward. I called Desai on a video call. He answered, looking uncomfortable.
"Meera told me about your meeting at Alpine Heights," I said, steady but aware of his unease.
He hesitated, caught off guard. Before he could respond, I added, "I have no issue with you two meeting again. It’s clear now that you want to."
Meera, who had been standing silently in the background, grabbed the phone from my hand. "No," she said firmly. "I won’t meet him again." She ended the call abruptly.
She turned to me, her eyes hard. "Stop forcing your decisions on me," she said, voice low. "If you want me out of your life, I’ll leave. But don’t ask me to see him again."
I stared at her, frustration building. "Why?" I asked, but she stayed silent.
 
Later, Desai called me back.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Not really," I replied, my voice steady. "I need to ask you something. Do you love Meera?"
A pause. Then, Desai answered softly, "Yes, I love her. But I won’t do anything to spoil what she has with you. I’ll never ask her if she feels the same. I’m just happy knowing I can bring her some joy."
I absorbed his words. "She has feelings for you, Desai. You should talk to her, confess what you feel. Let her give you a proper answer."
Desai’s voice was full of confusion. "Why are you saying this, Krish? Why now?"
I sighed, my voice firm. "If you ever had the chance to marry Meera, what would you do?"
He was silent for a long moment, then spoke with regret. "Meera gave me a second chance at life. I would love to keep her in it, to be with her forever. But marriage… that’s just a dream. I know she loves you more than anything. I could never compete with that."
His words settled over me like a cold weight. I could hear the genuine affection in his voice for Meera, and it only confirmed what I was already starting to believe: maybe Meera belonged with him after all.
I listened intently, Desai’s words echoing in my mind. His affection for Meera was clear, and it only solidified what I had begun to believe – that maybe she belonged with him after all.
"I’ve started to think you two deserve each other," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "Our marriage... it’s just awkward now. It lacks color. The passion? Gone. Our sex life isn’t fulfilling. She’s not happy with me. And she’s been seeing you behind my back."
There was a long silence. I could feel Desai trying to process what I was saying.
"And me?" I went on. "I’ve cheated on her too. With Maithrei. We slept together. I’m telling you because I trust you, but don’t tell her. The trust, the chemistry – everything that worked – is gone. It’s time to move on."
Desai’s voice was strained. "But you were both open about this before. What’s different now?"
I sighed, frustration slipping into my words. "Yeah, we were. But the fun’s over. We don’t have the energy to keep pretending. You should talk to her. Find out if you two can make it work. It’s not about us anymore. It’s about what she really wants."
Desai hesitated before speaking again, quieter this time. "Krish... are you telling me this because you think I’m only interested in her body?"
I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see me. "Isn’t it? Or is it just her body that excites you? She’s made an impact on your life, hasn’t she? Not just physically, but who she is."
Desai let out a long breath. "It’s Meera, the person. But, yeah... the most intimate conversations we’ve had were during sex. That’s when we’re closest."
"I think you already believe in this, Desai," I said, my voice steady. "You've decided she's the one, and that's why you wouldn’t even think of being with anyone else. You’re not looking for someone new. You want Meera."
Desai was quiet for a moment before answering, his voice softer, tinged with regret. "I do want to talk to her, Krish. I really do. But she’s blocked me. Everywhere. Phone, online... she’s cut me off."
 
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I stormed into the room where Meera was. My voice was sharp, accusing. "Have you blocked Desai?"
Her eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across her face. "Why are you contacting him again, Krish?"
Frustration surged through me, the raw emotion spilling over. "Why? Why are you acting like this?" I shot back, my words harsh and unfiltered. "Like a damn bitch!"
She didn’t flinch. Instead, her face twisted with emotion. "Because I love you, damn it!" she spat, the words sharp and painful.
 
That night, after dinner, we went to bed in silence. But then Meera tried to open up. She hesitated, searching for the right words, her voice trembling.
"When I was with him," she began, her voice wavering with emotion, "he made me feel like I was with you. He role-played you when he finished inside me. And I let him because I was going to take the pill. But when it was happening..." She paused, her eyes reflecting a deep vulnerability. "In those moments, I remembered what you said the other day about having kids… and I was like, 'Oh Krish, I’m ready. I want to do it. I want a baby.' That moment... it was like a revelation. I felt something shift inside me. Like I understood what it could mean to create life, to have a child with you."
Her voice trembled as she continued, her eyes filled with longing. "I want that, Krish. I want to be with you. I want to build a family with you. I want to create something beautiful together."
I could feel the weight of her words sinking into me, but even as I processed them, something within me couldn’t ignore the distance that had already formed between us. I struggled to find the right words.
"Meera," I said quietly, my voice low, almost distant, "I’ve been thinking about everything we’ve been through. Too much has happened. Too much has changed. I don’t think it’s the right time for us to talk about having a baby. It’s too late for that."
Her face fell, the hurt clear in her eyes. But I knew, deep down, that I was right. We had crossed too many lines, hurt each other too many times, to ever go back to what we once had. Even though I wanted to give her the world, I knew it wasn’t that simple anymore. It could never be.
I sat there, feeling a thousand emotions swirling inside of me – anger, frustration, regret – but above all, an overwhelming sense of loss. I had no idea where we were headed anymore, and the thought of bringing a child into this mess... it was too much to bear.
 
The next morning, Meera asked, “What did you talk to Desai about?”
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before responding. “I told him the truth. I asked him how he sees you and what made him think you’re the one. He promised you, didn’t he? That he wouldn’t see anyone else but you.”
Meera nodded quietly, her gaze distant. “Yes.”
"He told me he sees you as the person who changed his life. He owes you for that, and he’d love to have you in his life forever. He loves you, Meera. He really does.”
She didn’t respond immediately, her mind clearly elsewhere. After a moment, she asked, “Did you tell him about returning Vickey Security Services to him?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Meera turned to me, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll listen to you, but only if you listen to me first,” she said. “Promise me you’ll keep the company.”
I raised an eyebrow. “But why?”
“Because it wasn’t a gift,” she said, her tone unwavering. “If it had been, I wouldn’t have allowed you to accept it in the first place. Don’t see it as a gift. It’s something you deserve more than he does.”
Her words mirrored what I had been thinking – that Desai deserved her more than I did, and that I deserved the company more than he did. It felt like a twisted kind of fairness, but in that moment, I understood.
“Okay, I promise,” I said, and I saw her gaze soften slightly.
I hesitated, then asked, "So, is that a yes from you for Desai?”
I could hear the hesitation in her voice, but I pressed on. “What is it, Meera? Are you willing to meet him?”
She looked at me for a long moment before replying, her words slow. “I’m ready to meet him. But don’t push me to marry him, Krish. I can’t do that.”
I nodded, understanding her reluctance. “Okay, but how are you going to see him then? You need to move on, Meera. You can’t keep living in limbo.”
She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I need time, Krish. I can’t just shut off everything I had with you and start something with him. It’s not that simple.”
My chest tightened, but I understood. “Okay, but at least unblock Desai.”
She didn’t say anything, just picked up her phone and unlocked it. I watched as her fingers worked quickly to unblock Desai, and no sooner had she done that than her phone buzzed. Desai was calling. She hesitated.
“Put it on speaker,” I urged.
Meera answered the call, putting it on speaker mode.
Desai’s voice came through loud and clear, carrying an unfamiliar warmth. “I was just dialling your number because I had a dream about you.”
Meera blinked, clearly curious. “A dream? What about?”
Desai’s tone softened, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It was a beautiful one. I was walking down a quiet street, and I came across you. You were leaning against a pole, smiling at me. I asked you what you were doing, and you told me you were waiting for me. I can’t even describe how that felt in the dream. It was as if time stood still. I wish I could meet you like that in real life – standing there, waiting for me. That’s why I called, and I noticed you unblocked my number.”
Meera shifted uncomfortably, her voice a little nervous. “Krish made me unblock you.” She glanced at me, embarrassed. “And he’s sitting close.”
Without thinking, I grabbed the phone from her. “Hey Desai,” I cut in, sensing the shift in the conversation. “She’s ready to meet you. Maybe it’s time for you two to clear your heads, get away for a bit. How about we plan a trip or something? What do you think?”
Meera immediately shook her head, her expression a clear "no," but Desai responded with his usual enthusiasm. “I actually had something in mind – going to a resort I own down South. I invited Meera the other day, but wasn’t sure if she’d be ready.”
I knew exactly which one he meant.
The Bamboo Resort.
And the fantasies he had planned to fulfil there came rushing to my mind.


I decided to play along. “Sounds like a nice idea,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “How many days?”
Desai didn’t hesitate. “Two days.”
I thought for a moment, a slow grin forming. “You know, I think it would be better if you two took a longer break – maybe two weeks.”
Meera’s eyes widened and she immediately began shaking her head, mouthing “No” repeatedly. I could feel her discomfort radiating off her, but I was already committed to pushing this conversation further.
Desai, clearly excited, responded, “I would love that.”
Meera fell silent for a moment before her voice cut through the tension, sharp and incredulous. “I’m still wondering how Krish convinced you to do this, Susheel.”
I noticed it immediately – the subtle change. She hadn’t called him by his first name in days, maybe even weeks.
If that wasn’t a sign of the ice melting, then what could be?
Desai chuckled lightly. “I didn’t have to try much, baby. I just love you, and I guess I got a little selfish here.”
Meera, no longer able to contain her frustration, cut in sharply. “I’ll talk to you later,” and ended the call abruptly.
She turned to me, her expression a mix of confusion and certainty. “It could be true that he loves me,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I love you too.”
And then, without warning, she kissed me. I was caught off guard, the surge of emotions overwhelming me. Her lips pressed against mine, pulling me toward her, and I could feel the heat between us. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it.
But then I pulled away, my mind racing. “No,” I rasped, trying to steady my breath. “It’s over between us.”
Her eyes went wide, shock and frustration flooding her face. She sat up on the bed, her hands clenching into fists. Without saying another word, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at me.
“Moron!” she snapped, her anger unmistakable.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I grabbed my things, turning to leave the room. But before I could step out, she spoke again, her tone suddenly more serious. “I’ll go with Desai,” she said firmly, “only if you find someone for you first.”
I raised an eyebrow, an involuntary laugh escaping me. “Stop making drama,” I said, though I could see she wasn’t backing down.
She just stared at me, waiting for my response.
I sighed, shaking my head. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’m ready to sleep with Maithrei again if that’s what you want. But only after you let Desai in.”
Without a word, she pinched my wrist, the sting sharp and unexpected.
 
The weight in my chest felt suffocating on the drive to the office. It had settled there ever since that moment with Meera, as though the universe had finally tipped its hand, showing me what I’d been dreading for so long. The ice between Meera and Desai was breaking, and deep down, I knew this was the beginning of the end. Meera was slipping away, little by little, and no matter how much I tried to keep calm, I couldn’t stop the pain.
The realization stung more than I anticipated. I felt the pressure build in my chest, my eyes welling up with tears. For a brief moment, I let them come – just long enough for the weight of it all to settle in.
I pulled over to the side of the road, quickly wiping my eyes. It wasn’t enough to fix anything, but it would have to do. I couldn’t afford to let this derail me. The office awaited, and the world didn’t stop just because my marriage was falling apart.
I took a deep breath, staring out the windshield, trying to pull myself together. It was a cold truth, but it was mine to face.
 
Later that day, Desai called.
"I hope I am not being played, Krish,” he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
I raised an eyebrow, sensing the unease in his words. “Why? What’s going on?”
There was a brief pause before Desai spoke again, his words quick and sharp. "I can’t believe this. Meera has agreed to go with me – a trip, six days, to the resort. She won’t commit to anything beyond that, though. She said she’ll think about the future after the trip..."
"That’s what I thought too when I suggested two days wasn’t enough," I responded, my voice steady but laced with something else. "Desai, I want you to consider this seriously. My marriage is falling apart for sure, but I’m making this choice because I believe you two deserve each other more than I do. Take this as your chance to show her where you want to take it from here. But if you fail to convince her, she’s coming back to me. Because she still loves me. And I’ll have to rethink my current decision. Do you understand?"
Desai was silent for a moment, then replied, his voice strained. "I get it, Krish. But she said she needs time to be mentally ready to travel with me. She’s emotionally down, and I get it – she’s justified. She asked me to wait until your wedding anniversary."
My heart stopped.
Anniversary?
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Our tenth wedding anniversary was in two weeks.
I let the silence stretch out, the weight of the realization sinking in. Finally, I spoke, my voice barely steady. “Well, it sounds like a good proposal,” I said, though I could feel the heaviness of it all in my chest.
 
Back at home, I looked at Meera, trying to keep my expression steady, though nothing felt steady anymore.
"I think it’s a good decision, Meera," I said quietly, my voice softer than usual. "Two weeks will give you time to mentally adjust to the change." I wasn’t entirely sure I believed it, but it felt like the only way forward.
Her face crumpled, and before I knew it, she was in my arms, her body trembling as she cried against my chest. I froze, unsure of how to react.
"Meera..." I began, but the words caught in my throat. The weight of the situation hit me harder than I had anticipated.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes glistening with tears, her expression a mixture of confusion and pain. "What are you making me do, Krish?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
I sighed, feeling the heaviness of everything we’d been through. It seemed like there were no right answers anymore, no way to fix the damage. But I did the only thing I could – I pulled her close again, kissing her forehead gently.
"I'm doing the right thing, baby," I murmured, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "You’ll see."


That night, Meera curled up beside me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself hold her in silence. We slept in each other’s arms, the steady rhythm of our breathing the only sound that filled the space between us.
In the morning, Meera stirred, her voice soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite place, breaking the silence.
"You are a wonderful man, Krish."
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just held her tighter, unwilling to let go.
But then she turned toward me, and I felt the weight of her gaze. “Krish, can you stay my husband – just until the anniversary?”
I froze. My heart clenched, and I found myself looking into her eyes, seeing that love there – raw, undeniable, the kind of love that could break a man. I felt it all over again. And for a moment, I wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt. But I had to be strong.
“No, baby,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “Let’s not complicate this.”
Her lips trembled, and her voice was small, as though she was holding back tears. "Do you already hate me that much?"
I couldn’t let her think that. I pulled her into my arms, needing to feel her warmth, needing to remind myself that I hadn’t lost everything yet. "I will never hate you, Meera. Even when you become Desai’s."
Her body tensed in my arms, but her voice cracked when she spoke. “What will we be to each other then?”
I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know if there was one. “Whatever we feel like,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine like she was trying to find something she knew she wouldn’t hear. “What do you feel now?”
“Peace,” I replied, the word slipping from my lips before I could stop it. “Warmth.”
Meera leaned up, her lips soft against my chin, kissing me gently. "I will never stop loving you too, Krish."
And for the first time in weeks, I felt it – a strange kind of serenity. A truth I didn’t want to face, but one I couldn’t ignore anymore. I tightened my arms around her, and she melted further into me, fitting perfectly against me, as if we were still the same people we used to be.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other, letting silence do the talking. There was no tension, no conflict between us. Only the quiet acceptance of what was to come.
 
That night, after everything had settled into an uneasy calm, I turned to Meera as we lay in bed together.
"Meera," I began, my voice tentative, "I was thinking... maybe we should invite Desai to the anniversary."
Her eyes widened for a moment, and I could see the hesitation in them. But she didn’t say no. She just nodded, though nervousness lingered in her expression.
I took a deep breath. "I think it might be better for all of us if you can leave with him the day after. A decade of our life is coming to an end, and it should mark the beginning of another phase. We could... end this chapter properly."
“I... I’m scared, Krish,” Meera said.
“No. That’s not an option.”
I demanded.
Meera remained quiet for a long time. I could feel the weight of her decision hanging between us. Finally, she agreed, her voice shaky. "Okay... we can do that."
I didn’t know if she was doing it for me, or for herself, but it was the decision we both knew had to be made.


I pulled out my phone and dialled Desai’s number. It rang a couple of times before he picked up.
"Hello?" His voice sounded almost too eager.
"Desai," I said, trying to keep my tone even, "I wanted to invite you to the anniversary. Meera and I... we’ve talked about it, and we think it’s time for you to come."
There was a long pause on the other end, and I could almost hear the disbelief in his silence. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with both gratitude and guilt.
"Krish... I don’t know what to say. I’ve been waiting for this day, but I feel terrible. I feel like I’m taking something precious away from you."
I felt a pang in my chest, but I couldn’t let it show.
"Desai," I said after a pause, "I’ve seen a change in her. I know Meera better than anyone, and I can feel her heart moving in a different direction. That’s why I’m asking you to take your chance. I need her to be truly happy, even if it’s not with me."
There was a long silence on the line. I could hear his breath catching, and I knew he was processing my words, trying to find the right response. Finally, his voice came through again, thick with emotion.
"Krish, you’re... remarkable. No man has ever been this kind to me. I mean it. What you’re doing is beyond anything I could have imagined." He paused, and I could feel his gratitude seeping through the phone. "I don’t just feel gratitude – I feel an obligation to you. I’m committing here and now to fulfil any wish you have. Not to repay the favour, but because I understand the depth of the sacrifice you’re making for me. Just say the word, and it’s yours."


His sincerity hit me hard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t asking for anything in return, but hearing him say that made the sacrifice feel heavier, more real. Finally, I took a breath and spoke again.
"I don’t want anything from you, Desai. Just promise me one thing – if this works out, you’ll treat Meera like a queen. She deserves nothing less."
There was a brief pause before Desai’s voice came through again, filled with conviction. "I will, Krish. I promise you, I’ll cherish her and make sure she never regrets this. You have my word."
"Good," I said quietly, my chest tightening at the weight of the promise. "That’s all I needed to hear."
I ended the call and turned to Meera, who was sitting beside me. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Without a word, she threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest as she began to cry softly.
I held her close, the feeling of her tears against my skin almost unbearable. She was about to walk away from me, and yet, I knew I was doing the right thing. For her. For us.
"I don’t want to go, Krish," she whispered, her voice broken. "I wish I didn’t have to."
I stroked her hair, my own heart aching with a mixture of relief and pain. "I know, Meera," I said softly. "But this is what’s best for both of us. I promise you."
And as she cried in my arms, I knew that this was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but maybe it was the only thing left to do.
 
A few days before the anniversary, I found myself sitting beside Meera, watching her carefully as she stared at the closet. “What are you planning to wear?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
She shrugged, her voice subdued. “I don’t know.”
I blinked, taken aback. It wasn’t like Meera to be so unprepared. She always planned her outfits days in advance, especially for something as important as this event. Her attention to detail had always been one of the things I admired most about her. But now, it was clear she was holding something back – something deeper than just clothes.
"How about something Desai likes?" I suggested gently, my words coming out softer than I intended. "Maybe a saree? He’s always said he loves seeing you in one.”
She nodded slowly but didn’t respond further.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, hoping for some glimpse into her thoughts.
She hesitated before answering, her voice quieter now. “I’m wondering if all of this will even work out the way you think it will.”
Her doubt hung in the air, sharp and undeniable. I could see it reflected in her eyes, and it made my chest tighten.
“How can you be so sure?” she added, her words fragile, as if she was asking me for answers I didn’t have.
I let out a heavy breath, unsure of how to frame my thoughts. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Truth is, I don’t want you to go, Meera.”
Her eyes widened slightly, the surprise and hurt flashing in them, but I didn’t stop. I needed her to hear me.
"But staying together…" I trailed off, my words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. "It means the problems will never end. Not for us. If not Desai, then someone else. It’ll happen again.”
I watched as her gaze dropped, her shoulders slumping, a sadness falling over her that mirrored my own.
"So, I’m making the hard decision," I said, my voice quieter now, but firm. "Not for you. Not for me. For us.”
She turned to face me again, her voice soft. “What will you do after I leave?”
I tried to shrug, but the weight of it all felt heavier than I could pretend to bear. "I’ll find someone, so that you won’t feel bad for me," I said, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it myself.
A faint smile appeared on her lips, small and almost imperceptible. But it was there, like a fragile thread that tied us together, if only for a moment.
After a pause, she spoke again. “Promise me you’ll find someone for yourself. Someone… unlike me. Someone who wouldn’t be seduced by other men so easily.”
Her words came out as a joke, a self-deprecating jab at herself. But I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, trying to hide the sting behind the humour.
“That’s not how I see you,” I said. “And anyway, the biggest thing Desai saw in you was how tough you were. He told me you were the hardest woman he’d ever met.”
A fleeting look of pride crossed her face before it quickly disappeared, leaving only a shadow. “But he did, eventually,” she murmured, almost to herself.
I caught her gaze, watching her closely as I asked, “He conquered, right?”
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she smiled – a soft, enigmatic smile that carried more meaning than any words could. It held something that I couldn’t quite grasp, but I knew it was there.


In that moment, I felt the weight of everything pressing down on me. The inevitable ending of everything we had built together. But strangely, I also felt something else – something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
A conclusion.
It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what we both needed. And maybe, just maybe, it was the only thing left for us.
 
The next day, I took Meera to the saree boutique. She moved through the racks with quiet grace, her fingers lightly brushing the fabric as if savoring its softness, her eyes scanning the collection with focused determination. I stood back, leaning against one of the shelves, just watching her. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the need to say anything. I wasn’t trying to fix anything. I wasn’t trying to stop her.


As I watched, my thoughts wandered. She moved so confidently among the fabrics. I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she picturing herself in one of these sarees for Desai? Imagining how it would look on her when he saw her in that attire, his gaze drinking it all in? Or maybe, she was thinking ahead – about how he would take it off, slowly, piece by piece, his hands moving where they pleased.
The thought of them together didn’t unsettle me like it used to. The familiar jolt of jealousy that once churned my insides had faded, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t relief. It was just… acceptance. Desai and Meera were going to be a couple soon, that much was clear. And as a couple, they would have every right to do whatever they wanted.
It was a simple truth, and for the first time, I wasn’t fighting it. I wasn’t scrambling to stop what was happening.
I had been dreading this moment for so long, but now that it was here, it felt almost… peaceful. Like I had finally let go of something I had been holding onto for far too long.
 
Two days later, Meera asked me, “What will we tell our family and neighbors?”
I had thought about the same thing. "As for the family, we don’t need to tell them anything upfront. They’ll figure it out in time. It’ll take them a while to understand, but by the time they do, we’ll both have already moved on."
Meera nodded, but there was a lingering tension in her eyes. "And the neighbors?"
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "I think I’ll shift to Alpine Heights. That way, I won’t have to worry about questions or gossip. It’ll be easier for both of us."
She said nothing, but she nodded after thinking about it.
 
After what felt like an eternity, our anniversary day arrived. It was a Monday. Meera had taken the week off, and I’d called Nidhi the night before to let her know I wouldn’t be at the office.
I felt drained, like my mind had run out of energy. Everything seemed distant, muffled, as though I were behind a fogged window. At times, doubt crept in – had I acted too quickly? But then I reminded myself that this was best for Meera. If she was going to find happiness, this was the path, even if it meant I was left behind.
There was a finality in the air, a stillness. Though part of me felt suffocated by the weight of it all, deep down, I knew I’d made the right choice – for her.
 
There wasn’t much planning for the anniversary. We’d ordered food online, and Meera remained predictably quiet, offering no suggestions. I took it upon myself to grab a couple of scotch bottles and make basic arrangements for a small gathering. I wasn’t sure if Desai or Meera would drink, but I knew I’d need a glass or two to steady myself.
 
As I moved the furniture around in the hall, Meera joined me. Watching her step in, I felt the weight of the moment. It was time to ask the question neither of us had spoken aloud yet.
“Which room will you sleep in tonight?” I asked casually, but my chest tightened. The heaviness of the situation was undeniable, even masked by simple words.
Meera froze, surprised by the question. She didn’t respond, but I smiled gently, trying to hide the ache in my heart. “Meera, we’ve talked enough about this. There’s no point in struggling. I think we’ve already separated. Tonight, when Desai speaks his mind, it’s your choice. I won’t interfere. But we’re not together anymore.”
She nodded, her lips trembling slightly. There were no tears, but her quiet acceptance tore at me more than I expected. I wanted to say something to make it easier, but I couldn’t. She didn’t need that. Neither of us did.
 
Afterward, Meera moved into the evening preparations with purpose – arranging the food, setting the plates, ensuring everything was in order. Her nervous energy turned to action, but there was something bittersweet about it. It felt like she was preparing for an ending she couldn’t avoid.
I didn’t say anything. We were both just waiting for Desai.
I moved around the room too, trying to stay busy, but my mind drifted. The scotch bottles on the counter tempted me, but I needed to stay clear-headed for whatever was coming.
Meera glanced at me once or twice, but we both knew what was next. Her movements were final, like she was preparing not just for an anniversary dinner, but for the end of everything we had.
 
By evening, Meera started wearing the saree we had picked out, but then she called me into the room.
“Please, Krish. I can't do it. I don’t want to look like a bride,” she said.
She had dbangd the saree around her waist but hadn’t pleated it yet. In her sleeveless blouse, her body was on full display – her breasts, her belly, the curve of her navel just above the saree. The red blouse revealed a hint of cleavage, adding to her beauty. For a moment, I wanted to stop and admire her, but I realized I had no right to disturb her composure, something she had struggled to regain. I looked away, then met her eyes.
“You are a bride tonight, Meera. Just face it.”
“Fuck you. It’s just awkward.”
“Don’t think about it. Think about him. You need to think about him.”
She looked at me for a moment. “Is it still about your fantasy?” she asked quietly.
I paused. Yes, it was the ultimate fantasy. But the more painful it was, the more I would try to move away from it later.
“Probably,” I said. “Make it an event. A striking image of this transformation in our lives. A reminder that playing with fire leads to hell. Go ahead, wear it. Put on a show for your man.”
I left it up to her whom she wanted to put on that show for – Desai or me.


Meera slowly began making the pleats. I stood there watching, unable to take my eyes off her. This would likely be the last time I’d see her like this – as my wife.
She was breath-taking. The deep maroon saree with gold accents shimmered in the dim light, hugging her body perfectly, tracing every curve. It dbangd over her as though it belonged, as if it had always been part of her. The sleeveless blouse with golden embroidery highlighted her graceful shoulders and arms, soft and glistening naturally. The blouse dipped low in the back, exposing her flawless skin. Every movement she made shifted the fabric, teasing me with glimpses of her navel.
Her hair was loosely tied, strands framing her face. A touch of makeup accentuated her sharp eyes and soft lips, giving her a radiant glow. That she didn’t wear any ornaments around her neck made her look homely yet intimately hot.
She wasn’t dressing for me tonight. She was dressing for him. There was vulnerability in her, worn like armour, as she stood on the edge of something new. She looked hesitant, but impossibly alluring – caught between the past we shared and the future she was stepping into.
 
I also wore a new shirt and pants, carefully chosen not to match hers. I dressed well because I didn’t want to seem unprepared for what was about to unfold.
 
Eventually, the doorbell rang, shattering the quiet of the house. For a brief moment, the world around me froze. The sound sliced through the heavy air, pulling me back to reality. I felt my pulse quicken, the blood rushing to my ears, making everything else fade into the background.
Meera stood a few feet away in the hall, her fingers twitching nervously as she adjusted the pleats of her saree again, as though somehow it could make her feel more grounded, more in control. But I saw the tightness in her jaw, the subtle shift in her posture that betrayed the storm she was trying so desperately to keep hidden. Her eyes locked onto mine, and there was something in them – something heavy, something that said both too much and not enough.


I glanced at the door, the one that would open to let Desai in, to seal our fate. I knew that the moment I unbolted it, it would mean the beginning of Meera’s departure from me. A quiet realization washed over me: I would be opening the door not just to Desai, but to the end of everything we had.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the bolt, the cold metal almost slipping from my grip. I could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me. The sound of my breath was too loud in the room, too frantic. I steadied my hands, trying to push the fear aside, but it clung to me like a shadow, gnawing at my resolve.


Finally, I unlocked the door. The metallic click seemed impossibly loud in the silence. As the door swung open, Desai stood there. He was everything I expected and more – tall, sharp, impeccably dressed in a suit that seemed custom-made for this moment. Every inch of him screamed confidence, authority, and control. His presence filled the doorway, and for an instant, I couldn’t breathe.
He looked every bit the man who had come to claim what was no longer mine.
Desai’s eyes met mine, and there was no warmth, no acknowledgment. He wasn’t here for me. His gaze immediately shifted beyond me, and in that moment, everything inside me twisted painfully. His eyes landed on Meera, standing just behind me.
I saw it – the intensity in his gaze, the way it softened, the way it lingered. It was the look of a man who had waited for this moment, and now that it was finally here, it was all-consuming.
For a second, everything stood still. The tension in the air thickened, and I felt the ground shift beneath me, as though I were no longer part of the equation.
Desai’s eyes never wavered from Meera, and in that moment, I knew – without a single word spoken – he had already claimed her, even if she hadn’t fully stepped toward him yet.
The door was open. And with it, everything was slipping away.

====xxxx====

[krish_999]

Sorry for the small glitch. As the chapter was too long I had to split it in half while posting. But I miscalculated the halfway mark, and it got worse when my system got hanged. Anyways, now the complete chapter has been posted.
Thanks.
One more chapter is left. I will try my best to make it next Sunday. But I can only say it's not a promise, I'm going to try. I want this to end so that I can feel free. Lol.

[krish_999]

Guys, the update won't be coming today. I'm just at the halfway mark.

[krish_999]

Guys, I've been aiming to finish this update today, but that seems unrealistic now. I’ll need two more days, and I believe I’ll be able to post it on tuesday.

Thank you for your patience. I know how frustrating it can be to wait for something without knowing exactly when it's coming. But I’m truly humbled by your words of support, trust, and motivation.

I’ve seen many comments saying that I’m the winner in this story. But to me, you guys are the real winners. Because, without your willingness to immerse yourselves in this fantasy world, not a single chapter would have been written the way it has. For your engagement and enthusiasm to follow and discuss this story, I'll say you guys are the real winners.

I’d love to write more here, but I know I should better concentrate on finishing the remaining part of the story.
Thank you once again!
Love. Krish.

[krish_999]

At least there is a probable date now! 
Please take as much time as you need to have a worthy final curtain to this wonderful story. But do give us an early warning if there is going to be a delay. It feels like sitting on a Pressure Cooker 

Thank you , Krish .

Krish , Just one request . Please Post the story on Sunday . I just came from wedding , And i was tired and anxious to read the Chapter 51 , but thanks to god there is no update  .Please If possible , Post it on Sunday .

I dont think I am mentally prepared for Krish Demise . Just for Once accept the request . 

And I also request to members if things go south for Krish , Please anyone , post a warning message so I can ignore the Final Chapter   .

Yeah. I think I should relax a bit. Sunday will be ideal for the final chapter. There's no point in hurrying to finish the update and messing it up. It's taking hell lot of my brain to bring the story to the climax that I had decided when I agreed to rewrite the story's original ending. I've got the draft for the whole chapter but still there's a lot of dialogues needed to be written. I might make it tomorrow but I don't want to post it without re reading a couple of times and editing. Because as you will see, there won't be a next part for this story.
So lets fix the date. 
Sunday. Morning at 9am.
Thanks again.

[krish_999]

Guys. I will take another couple of hours. Maybe one hour. maybe two hours. But not more than that. Thought I would let you know since I promised 9am update.
Thanks for being patient.

[krish_999]

Chapter 51

 

My heart raced as I welcomed Desai inside, pushing aside my apprehensions. He stepped forward with open arms, giving me a warm hug.

"How are you, bro?" His friendly voice helped ease my tension.
"Everything's fine," I managed to keep my voice steady.
Meera came forward to greet Desai, and she again drew Desai's undivided attention immediately. His smile broadened as he extended his hand, and their fingers intertwined in a handshake that lasted a heartbeat too long.
"How was the flight, Susheel?" Meera's voice carried s sense of nervousness and I couldn't help but wonder if Desai would attrib ute it to her excitement of meeting him.
"It was nice," Desai replied, his eyes never leaving her face. "Except this time, it felt longer."
Meera smiled at his subtle hint of his eagerness to reach here, to meet her.
 
I invited Desai to the living while clearing my throat, "we haven't made lavish arrangements for the anniversary, but I hope we'll have a memorable evening together. It's... just us. Perhaps the last celebration Meera and I will share."
I threw a glance at Meera's face as I spoke. Her eyes were fixed at Desai.
"You're being humble Krish," Desai said as he surveyed the room before turning to me. "The moment you invited me, you redefined the meaning of lavishness."
He thanked me again for inviting me. I forced a smile.
"It's okay to dress in formals... The suit looks sharp on you," I said, "but there's no need for such formality."
Desai glanced between us and smiled, though he appeared slightly nervous. "I chose to try to dress well... you know, I don't want anyone to change their mind at the last moment."
Meera smiled, "that's clever," she said. "Good looks are always on my checklist."
Her earlier nervousness seemed to melt away as Desai settled onto the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later carrying a crystal glass of water on a silver tray.
"Funny, I was just about to ask for water," Desai admitted. His gaze followed her movements as she served him, and I noticed how their eyes met; and stayed there a little longer than usual.
"It's not helping," he confessed quietly, "that I keep wondering if I'm good enough. This feels awkwardly strange." And he went on to express his admiration for her with a compliment. "You look absolutely stunning in this saree – like a gorgeous bride."
Meera's smile widened. "And you've come in a suit! Look nothing short of a groom."
She threw a quick glance at me before continuing, "I'm not sure what Krish might have told you, Susheel, but the way you're looking at me and the nervousness you're carrying give me a hint of what you might be expecting tonight."
"I'm nervous, yes," Desai acknowledged quickly, "because of the situation Krish has created for me."
He smiled at me before adding, "You know, Meera, this is the first time I've looked at a woman, met her eyes, and pictured her as a lifelong partner."
Meera froze, redness rising in her cheeks. "Oh my God, you're making me nervous too."
The embarrassment in her eyes was unmistakable as she stood speechless.
The situation was getting slightly awkward as they both said nothing, as if they didn't know what to say, and I seized the moment to intervene.
"Before this turns awkward, how about we start with a drink?" I suggested.
"Excellent idea," Desai said, and then turned to me. "I brought something special for making a cocktail – I thought it would be perfect for an occasion like this. With both of your permission, I'll mix it myself."
We agreed without hesitation.
Desai opened his luggage and took out a bottle of white rum.
"Exploring new hobbies, Susheel?" Meera asked.
"Not many," he said. "I learned about this only recently. I'm still not an expert, to be honest."
"No problem, we’ll help you," I said. "Consider yourself home – more at home than you've ever been here."
Meera gave me a quick glance, a hint of question in her eyes, but I gestured for her to stay calm.
 
We went to the kitchen to make the cocktail. Desai walked in front with the bottle. I asked him if he had picked it up from the Pune airport.
"No, Pune airport has nothing," Desai replied. "So I brought it from Mumbai."
"What do you need for the cocktail, Susheel?" Meera asked him.
"I’m afraid I might need your entire kitchen," Desai quipped, looking around.
"I’m relieved you didn’t ask for my bedroom," Meera retorted.
Her reply made both men laugh. I stepped closer to Meera shortly after. "He'll definitely ask for it later," I whispered.
Meera made a face at me.
 
In the kitchen, I helped Desai find a large glass and shaker. Meera helped by cutting lemon, strawberry, and peppermint and providing strawberry syrup.
As we all got engaged in the cocktail-making, it helped break the ice. Meera's nervousness about welcoming Desai melted away during the process, and by the time it was done, she was talking and smiling without any tension. I also noticed Meera and Desai having a small chat while she stood next to him, squeezing lemon into a bowl. Meera mentioned that his suit didn’t quite suit working in a kitchen. Desai responded that her gorgeous saree didn’t suit kitchen work either. They laughed together and looked at me.
"Neither do mine," I said.
"But you deserve it, because you wanted me to wear the saree," Meera replied.
"It seems Krish is doing more for me than you," Desai said.
Meera spoke about my good nature, detailing how it was my decision to part ways with her. She explained that I thought our living together would only cause her pain, as my fantasies weren’t going to stop. She said that, literally, I had been pushing her out of my life so she would choose Desai.
 
After the entertaining cocktail preparation, we returned to the hall and arranged the drinks and snacks on the centre table. We all chose to sit on different couches and then toasted.
Desai toasted first, “for the 10th anniversary of Meera and Krish.”
I followed him, “to a great future for Meera's friendship with Desai.”
Meera raised her glass and paused for a moment to look at me and then spoke, “to the friendship between you and Susheel… and also to you for being a wonderful husband.”
I think I enjoyed her words. And I loved how the cocktail tasted.
“Perfect.” I praised. “Expertly crafted.”
"Don't encourage him too much," Meera laughed. "He might start a cocktail empire next!"
"And I’ll have you as my partner in that," Desai responded.
 
After the first sip, Desai asked me to say who she would choose between us to exchange her glass with.
Meera said she would choose me.
Desai shook his head understandingly and remarked that her heart is still beating for her husband.
“I can see that in your eyes. But I want to assure you that I am not going to be offended if you go on to express it because I know how tough this night is going to be for you. Meera, I am in this only because you both chose to accept me. I should be grateful. There is nothing in this world that can offend me tonight because I am that happy, Meera. This is my night. A night that begins another phase of my life. You won’t believe me if I tell you how nervous I am. My fingers are shivering, my palms are sweating. I doubt it would help me get better even if you kissed me.”
After Desai spoke about his nervousness, I asked Meera to sit with him.
Meera shifted to his couch and sat next to Desai. She slowly placed her left palm over his right hand, and then offered her glass to him. Desai took her glass and handed his glass to her. After that, they both looked into each other's eyes and took a sip from their glasses.
I watched on, perceiving it as a moment when Desai attempted his advance towards her for the first time that night, and he did it successfully.
“This is cheeky stuff, actually,” Meera said after taking a sip and placing the glass down.
“Sometimes the cheeky stuff is fun,” Desai admitted.
“Krish is full of such stuff. I think you’ve learned it from him,” Meera said.
“I’ve learned from him more than he would have learned from me,” I said.
“It’s debatable stuff,” Desai said.
 
The chat went on for some time, and at one point, Desai mentioned that 23 days had passed since he had met Meera. The last time it had been 39 days, but his hunger to meet her was greater during these 23 days.
I said, "Well, you should wait for another day," and then quickly checked the clock and corrected myself, saying, "There are just a few hours left for today to pass."
Desai smiled, nodded at me, then looked at Meera.
"Yeah, just a few hours, Meera. Then I will be what you want. Krish told me to treat you like a queen. I wonder how you're going to treat me. Your king or a servant?"
Meera's eyes widened at his remark, and she looked at me before answering Desai.
"Who do you want to be, Mr. Susheel?"
Desai said he would like to be half king and half slave, case-to-case basis.
Meera laughed at his response. Desai and I joined in her laughter.
"I can see where you're heading, Mr. Romeo," Meera said. "I wonder how you remain patient during the long stretches of no intimacy."
Desai said, "That part of the credit goes to Krish's secretary."
I was surprised.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Desai didn't hesitate. "You know how I ended up doing it with your assistant, mmm…" he paused to recollect her name, "…Nidhi Sadashiv, during those frustrating days. I thought being with someone else would help me get over my thoughts of Meera. Honestly, I just wanted to move on from her. But it didn't help at all."
"You had met her again after you confessed to us about it, didn't you?" Meera asked casually.
I was stunned to hear that. My glance at Meera ensured she noticed my reaction. She subtly gestured that she would explain later.
"Yeah, I had met her again," Desai admitted. "I felt bad when I realized that I cannot move on from you unless we talked things out. So, I met Nidhi… you know, to seek forgiveness. I thought her anger would make me feel better because she had every right to be angry. But she wasn't angry. In fact, she was very friendly. I didn't want to reveal this to Krish, but since we're talking about it – she was ready to see me again if I wanted. You know…"
I was stunned. Memories flashed in my head about Nidhi's excitement whenever Desai's name came up in our conversations, her subtle reactions, her arousal masked under casual remarks. She had indeed been excited, even aroused, by thoughts of Desai because of the pleasure he'd given her. So much so that she'd been willing to make love on the same bed where Desai had been with another woman.
 
For a moment, I wondered whether it was me or Desai – or maybe even the idea of Desai – that she was attracted to. I couldn't find an answer immediately. Perhaps I didn't want to. Maybe the fear of that answer was enough to shake my confidence.
 
The first round of drinks was over. Desai stood up. "I'll make another round."
As he walked to the kitchen, I turned to Meera.
“How did you know Desai had met Nidhi after that?”
“I had met her… two three times after Desai confessed what he did. She was kinda feeling softer about him. I mean every time I met him, she was feeling softer than previous time. Eventually I stopped meeting her.” Meera said.
“Why? You feared she will eventually fall for him?” I joked.
“Come on!” She laughed too. Then she added, “but I felt it’s not a good idea to make her remember him. My meetings with her were doing that, I guess.”
“Good to know you ladies were discussing Desai behind my back.” I said.
“I’ve done much worse behind your back.” She hit back.
I laughed, “Yeah.”
 
I suggested her to go to kitchen and help Desai.
"Why? You go and help him," Meera retorted.
"Come on," I insisted with a smirk. "He's your would-be, isn't he?"
Meera got up, walked over, and playfully pinched my cheek. "He's not my would-be, you rascal!"
She began to walk to the kitchen, but I grabbed her hand.
"Meera, you promised something. Don't play your games tonight. He came for you."
Meera stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I know."
I stood up, turned her to face me, and gently squeezed her shoulders, letting my gaze travel across her face and down her figure.
"Meera, tonight I'm the host. You and Desai are literally my guests. Got it?"
Meera's expression softened. "Got it."
 
After Meera went to the kitchen, I settled back on the couch, letting the comfort of the drink ease into me. From the kitchen, I soon heard the soft murmur of their voices, followed by bursts of giggles. It felt like the night was proceeding just as I had hoped.
A little later, Meera's laughter echoed louder, filling the apartment with a warmth I hadn't heard from her in days. When they returned to the hall with fresh drinks, I couldn't help but ask, "What's the joke?"
Meera, still chuckling, nudged Desai. "Go on, Susheel. Tell him."
Desai grinned, shaking his head slightly as if embarrassed, but indulged. "Well, it's about this one time long ago – I was at a supermarket, and I picked up a large cucumber. There was this woman nearby, and she gave me this… suspicious look. I kept glancing between her face and the cucumber, trying to figure out what was so amusing. Finally, out of sheer panic, I blurted out, 'I'm unmarried'."
Meera burst into laughter again, almost spilling her drink. "I still can't believe that actually happened! I bet you just made that up after spotting the extra-large cucumber in my kitchen." She said. "But it's hilarious to imagine you in that situation – especially considering how you think of yourself as… well, you know, well-endowed."
Desai gave her a smirk, "I think of myself as so? Just me only?"
Meera gave him a sheepish smile, and she averted her eyes to look around the room as if she didn't hear him.
"Tell me," Desai insisted.
"Yeah, me too. Romeo," Meera said and laughed again.
"Yeah, size matters," I quipped. "At least now you can admit that I am doing the right thing."
Meera made an angry face at me. "Moron. You are such a moron, you know that?"
"Don’t call him a moron. Please," Desai said, throwing a quick glance at me before continuing. "You know, I’ve always found his acceptance of the idea of being cuckolded remarkable. Of course, there must have been moments of struggle, but he never saw me as an enemy trying to creep into his bedroom."
"Really?" Meera’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You wouldn’t say that if you remembered those days. Didn’t you try to trick him with fifty lakh rupees once?"
Desai chuckled, waving away the past. "That was the old me. Let’s talk about the new me."
Meera laughed. "Yeah, it’s the new you..." She paused, leaving the sentence hanging.
"Continue," Desai prompted, leaning closer. "You were about to praise me, weren’t you?"
"Haha," Meera laughed but didn’t elaborate. "You knew I was about to praise you. Isn’t that enough?"
"I think if you’re not going to tell me now, then you must be saving it for later... for a special moment."
A playful smile danced on Meera’s lips. She seemed to be deliberately holding back, her eyes flickering with glances that made me believe she was flirting.
"There won’t be any special moments tonight," she said softly.
"I didn’t come for any special moment," Desai countered.
"I doubt that," Meera replied quickly.
"Why?" Desai pressed.
"Never mind." Meera said. And then quickly added, "Well, I'd tell you it just won’t happen."
"Oh. Okay. Is there any specific reason?"
"Probably to hurt you."
"Must be a sadist."
"Won’t fall for it." She was smiling now.
"Come on, I can see you want to talk, honey."
Eventually, Meera spoke. "Because I know how you were on that day, after that... 39-day gap. And now, though it’s only been 23 days, you’ve already told me you missed me more than ever."
She was now looking straight into his eyes, as if trying to catch even the slightest reaction. Perhaps she wanted him to admit that he had become desperate for her, like hell.
 
I, watching from the side-lines, felt a strange mixture of emotions. No matter what they discussed, I sensed they were inevitably going to sleep together, going to have a wild reunion. I struggled to keep my mind from dwelling on the images of them waving me goodnight together. But I still found a sense of peace holding me back in my seat, rooted in the belief that it was all part of a decision I had made for Meera.
 
I laughed and then shook my head. "Well, I’m just glad to see you enjoying the night, Meera. You’ve had a rough time these past few days. It feels good to see you happy again."
She glanced at me briefly, her smile softening.
“Fun talks aside, let me ask you something, Meera. Are you still struggling to see me in your life?” Desai asked after a few moments.
Meera looked at him and took a deep breath before speaking.
"I agreed to see you, Desai," she began softly, "but I never said I was ready for commitment. You know, there are so many things that come with it. I’m not trying to set conditions, but I’m not in the right mental state to figure out what’s good or bad for me right now. Krish is leaving... and I don’t know how I’m going to cope with that. It’s one thing to imagine getting divorced, but it’s another thing to actually go through it."
She paused, her eyes flickering with the weight of her emotions.
"I don’t know how long I’ll cry. Even if you see me laughing or calm around you, inside, I’ll still be crying. I don’t have much control over myself these days. When Krish said we should separate, the only future I could imagine was one where I wouldn’t see another man after him. My love isn’t like a switch. I can’t just turn it off for him and turn it on for you."
She took another deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a vulnerability I had seen many times over the past few weeks.
"So, I want you to understand that it will take time for me to even consider looking at you that way. But yes," she added softly, "I’m committed to you, to accompanying you on the trip tomorrow."
Desai listened intently, nodding as if he had anticipated this, his expression gentle.
"I understand, Meera. Your stand doesn’t surprise me," he said. "I’ll always be a friend to you, and whatever comes beyond that will be a bonus. I’d love to hold your hand, but it doesn’t mean I want to drag you anywhere you don’t want to be. I’d rather hold your hand and be wherever you want us to be."
He paused, looking at her with deep sincerity.
"You’re a special person, Meera. Both you and Krish, actually. I wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone, but now... I just want to be grateful to you for what you’ve helped me become. There’s no one else in this world to whom I owe more gratitude than you. That’s what brings me back to you."
His voice softened, and for a moment, there was a distant longing in his eyes.
"And yes, even if it’s a distant possibility, I have to admit… if my heart beats for someone, I can’t ignore it. I have to admit that it beats for someone."
 
As Desai spoke, he slowly reached out and took Meera’s hand, bringing it gently to his lips. He smiled at her, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her palm. Meera smiled back, her hand remaining in his. There was a subtle shift in the air, and I could feel her beginning to soften toward him, her defences gradually melting.
I watched, amazed at how their conversation was unfolding. At the start, Meera had made it clear that there was no chance of them being together. But by the end, her gaze lingered on Desai more, her eye contact deepening, as if silently acknowledging the sincerity of his affection. It was clear to me now that, despite her words, something in her was responding to him.
 
Desai, despite his initial nervousness, was steadily making his moves, flirting with her in a way that felt both genuine and playful. Yet, as I observed them, I couldn't shake the feeling that Meera’s gestures – her small smiles and lingering glances – were still rooted in something else. A part of her was still reaching out to me, even in this moment with Desai.
I couldn’t help but feel that her lingering affection for me, in some twisted way, was arousing Desai. I knew he would want to pursue her feelings, take her to bed before the night ended, and fuck her hard. I even sensed that the sex – the pleasure he could give her – would draw her closer to him, and eventually, she would submit to him, just like before.
The thought hit me hard, and I got up from the couch, not wanting to stay in the moment any longer. I stumbled over to the music system and turned on a song in an attempt to settle my thoughts.
 
The rum cocktail made my head feel light, but it helped me maintain a semblance of self-control. It was strange, but in a way, it made things feel more bearable. I could sense that Meera was carrying on with the night as if a part of her was ready to let go, to release the tension between us. The separation, I thought, wouldn’t be as painful as I had expected. Perhaps, in the end, it would be easier than I had imagined.
 
Desai suggested we take some pictures, and we agreed. First, Desai and Meera posed together, and I took photos with Meera’s phone. I noticed Desai casually putting his arm around her waist. To be honest, they looked perfect as a couple. Despite being fifteen years older than her, Desai, with his perfectly fit physique and sharp dressing sense, matched her divine beauty with his masculine confidence.
Desai looked at Meera, admiration clear in his eyes. "You look stunning in this saree," he said. "It’s already on my list of your best looks."
Meera smiled, tilting her head slightly. "What about the dress you mentioned earlier? You said you brought something for me. I want to see it."
That caught my attention. "What dress?" I asked, glancing between them.
Meera turned to me. "While we were making that second drink, Desai told me he had brought a dress for me. But after seeing me in this saree, he decided against asking me to change."
I smirked. "Well, it took a lot of convincing to get her to wear this saree tonight." Then, looking at Desai, I added, "But now I’m curious – what dress did you bring?"
Meera nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let’s see it. Open your luggage."
Desai chuckled. "I’ll show you, but on one condition – you have to wear it."
Meera hesitated, then spoke with a fake seriousness. "I’m not putting on anything fancy. This is not your fantasy night."
Desai smirked. "You can trust me."
Meera let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I’ll think about it."
 
When they finished posing for photos, Meera turned to me. "Come on, one with me."
I sighed but stepped forward. As soon as I stood next to her, she grabbed my hand and placed it around her waist. It was subtle, but Desai noticed. I caught the flicker of excitement in his eyes. It felt like he was savouring this moment – watching Meera and me together for one last time, knowing that by the end of the night, she would be his.
 
When we finished, Desai opened his suitcase. Inside, a neatly packed parcel took up nearly half the space. He pulled it out and handed it to Meera.
"I came across this on an online site," he said. "And immediately, you came to my mind."
Meera smirked as she took the package. "What exactly came to your mind?" she teased, carefully un-wrapping the dress.
It was a dark pink and white dress. Meera’s eyes widened slightly, and the way her fingers traced the fabric told me she loved the material.
She held it up against herself. "It’s an off-shoulder midi," she quickly pointed out.
I glanced at the dress. It certainly didn’t have the length to reach her ankles. Desai watched her reaction closely. "So? Will you wear it?" he asked.
Meera hesitated. "It’s beautiful, but… it’s going to be very exposing."
Desai leaned back, studying her. "And what exactly are you wary of?"
She glanced at me, as if looking for reassurance. I liked that she still wanted my opinion, even in this moment. I shrugged. "You have two choices—wear it now or wear it on your trip."
Meera looked at the dress again, then gave Desai a shy smile. "No, I wouldn’t want to do that."
She was talking about the trip. She clearly thought the dress was too revealing.
Then, almost as if looking for an escape, she sighed. "Besides, it’ll take too much effort to remove the saree."
I smirked. "I’m sure Desai would be more than happy to help."
Meera shot me a look. "It was actually him"—she pointed at me—"who helped me put it on."
I noticed Desai’s eyes widen slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. He had assumed Meera and I weren’t that intimate anymore. Maybe now he was rethinking that.
After a pause, Meera exhaled. "Okay. Give me fifteen minutes."
She turned toward the bedroom, but before proceeding, she grabbed a glass from the table and took a sip.
"That’s Desai’s glass," I pointed out.
Meera smirked. "Not anymore."
 
Desai watched her go, clearly entertained by her remark. I could tell he was enjoying the way she teased, the way she was slowly letting herself ease into the night.
As soon as she disappeared into the room, Desai turned to me. "What kind of help did you give her while she was wearing the saree?"
I took a sip of my drink before answering. "I helped her with the bra. Hooked it for her."
Desai burst out laughing, immediately catching on. "Bullshit."
I grinned, then leaned back. "By the way, you never told me how you met Nidhi. You mentioned it earlier."
Desai’s expression shifted slightly. "It was a long time ago, even before the concert night."
I raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you didn’t take advantage of the situation, knowing she might say yes?"
Desai exhaled. "That’s something that surprised me too. Nidhi is beautiful, no doubt. But she didn’t matter to me as much as my memories with Meera did. That was one of the moments I realized just how badly I wanted to get back to her."
I studied him for a moment. "So you were planning to come back to her, even after we shut you out of our lives?"
Desai nodded. "I just knew our paths would cross again. My only prayer was that, when they did, it would be worth cherishing."
I let his words settle in before speaking. "By ‘cherishing,’ do you mean having sex with Meera?"
Desai shook his head. "No. Honestly, I didn’t even think about that – at least, not until I got an opportunity that night at the concert. It just... happened. And when I realized she was within reach, I couldn’t control myself."
I looked at him, my voice steady. "You almost forced yourself on her that night."
Desai met my gaze. "You can say that. But I saw the struggle in her eyes. She might never admit it – not even to herself – but she needed a moment with me. Maybe for a closure. Because the moment we met that night, she knew exactly how much I had longed for her. It is impossible for someone to read another person’s mind if the latter was never on the former’s mind. And maybe, deep down, her subconscious mind had already prepared her to give in – just to free me from that longing." He let out a dry chuckle. "But it didn’t happen. That’s another thing."
I took a slow sip of my drink. "Maybe we never wanted that closure."
 
Before Desai could respond, the bedroom door creaked open.
Meera stepped out, wearing the dress.
It hugged her body perfectly, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places. The dark pink and white tones made her skin glow under the dim lights. The off-shoulder cut exposed her collarbones, her smooth skin, and the gentle slope of her shoulders. The dress ended well above her knees, revealing her toned legs, making her look both elegant and dangerously tempting.
Meera tucked her thumbs inside the top edge of the dress, just below her underarms, and tried to pull it up. Perhaps she feared it would slide down off her breasts. There was something in her expression – a mix of confidence and embarrassment, as if she knew exactly how stunning she looked but wasn’t sure how much of herself she was willing to reveal tonight.
 
Desai’s eyes darkened slightly as he welcomed, appreciation written all over his face.
I watched as Meera glanced at me for a fleeting second, then turned to Desai, biting her lower lip. "Well?" she asked.
Desai exhaled, a slow smile forming on his lips. "You look… breathtaking."
Though she appeared shy as she entered the hall, Meera didn’t settle down on the couch. Instead, she stood in front of us, smiling at us alternately, her fingers repeatedly tugging at the edge of her dress as if afraid it might slip. Each time she lifted both hands to adjust it, she unknowingly exposed the smooth curve of her armpits. That’s when I noticed that the back of the dress dipped even lower than I had realized, exposing a generous portion of her back.
She kept pulling the neckline up, a habit born more out of nervousness than necessity. Desai, watching her with amusement, reassured her, “It’s not going to fall off.”
Meera let out a small laugh. “I know… but I still can’t get that fear out of my head.”
Desai tilted his head. “So… do you like the dress?”
Meera pouted her lips playfully, then smiled. “Yes.”
 
She did love it. In all the years I had known her, I had never seen her wear something more revealing than this. Yet, hearing her admit how much she liked it made me wonder – had she secretly wished to wear something like this all along? If that was the case, then Desai certainly knew how to read her mind.
 
Desai grinned. “I’d love to click a few snaps with this hottie.” He handed me his phone, then turned to Meera.
As he approached her, she stood waiting, her body language open. Desai, on the other hand, moved naturally, his hand slipping around her waist as he pulled her close. With effortless ease, he maneuvered behind her, wrapping his arms around her more freely this time, holding her possessively as if she already belonged to him.
I clicked the photos as he guided her into different poses. “Look at me,” I heard him say. As Meera turned to meet his gaze, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at her round ass, the snug dress accentuating its curves perfectly.
 
Desai’s hands were exploratory yet measured – at first resting on her hips, then casually shifting lower to her love handles. I thought he might soon let his hands slide further, perhaps even over her ass cheeks, but he held back. Meera didn’t resist his touch, her body language giving him silent permission.
Then, Desai reached up, his fingers lightly touching her chin, turning her face toward him. He didn’t ask, but his eyes sought permission. Meera’s soft smile was all the answer he needed.
And I watched as he brought his lips to her cheek.
“It feels great to hold you, Meera,” I heard Desai whisper.
Meera smiled but didn’t say anything. As she glanced toward me, Desai gently touched her chin again, turning her face back to him.
“I can believe, can’t I?” he asked, his voice low.
Meera met his gaze. “I hope so.”
He looked deep into her eyes, and the space between them disappeared. His lips pressed softly into hers, slow and deliberate.
I forgot to click the photo.
My heartbeat quickened. I had fully expected this, yet watching it unfold in front of me made me question whether I was truly ready for it.
 
This time, it was different. Every time she had been in the arms of another man, she had always come back to me. But now, I had set the rule myself – she wasn’t coming back. The quick kiss she shared with Desai was more than just a touch of lips; it was the first undeniable sign that things had changed.
“Will you dance with me?” Desai asked.
Meera looked at him amusingly. “Dance?”
I, too, was surprised. Desai was not a great dancer, and I doubted he had suddenly picked up the skill. But what intrigued me more was his insistence on making her dance in this dress.
He grabbed the remote and flipped through the songs until he found a peppy number, turning up the volume. The moment I recognized the track, my suspicion solidified. It was the same song I had danced to with Meera at Ritu’s wedding – while Desai had watched from the side-lines. He had chosen it deliberately, making sure I knew that he remembered that night, that moment of jealousy he had swallowed.
As he returned to Meera, she extended her hands to him, locking her eyes onto his. She started with slow, graceful steps, guiding him. Desai tried to match her, laughing at himself as he failed miserably.
“Oh, I can’t,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re learning,” Meera encouraged him, her voice playful.
He kept trying, his hands still clasping hers, as she moved gracefully to the beat. I couldn’t help but stare – her breasts bounced with each motion, straining against the snug fabric. I feared, just for a second, that they might spill out. Meera must have felt the same because she adjusted the neckline a couple of times at first. But as the song progressed, her confidence grew, and she let go of her hesitation, moving freely with the rhythm.
 
When the song ended, Desai turned to me. “Your turn.”
I shook my head. “Me? Come on. You two are doing fine.”
“Come on, Krish. Dance with me,” Meera said, her voice softer.
I hesitated, but her eyes held a quiet invitation. I couldn’t refuse.
Getting up, I joined her. The next song was slower, more intimate. Meera slid her left arm under my right, and we swayed sideways at first, then turned to face each other. She held my forearm before shifting her grip to my hands.
I felt we were getting closer than we should have, but Meera wasn’t pulling away. Her eyes, her smile, the warmth of her touch – she wanted this moment with me, perhaps one last time.
 
As we moved in sync, her breath brushed my face. More than once, I felt the soft press of her breasts against my chest. The dress had a strapless padded bra inside, pushing her curves up, making them more pronounced, more tempting. The heat between us was undeniable.
The dance was fun, but with every step, I felt the weight of what was coming. The closer I held her, the harder it became to ignore the pain of letting go. More than once, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her, and forget everything else. A part of me even thought of stopping it all, telling her I couldn’t let her go.
But before the feeling could take over, the song ended – just in time.
We stepped back, breathing heavily.
“That was…” I exhaled, forcing a smile. “That was great.”
 
"You're tired?" Meera asked, surprised. She looked like she wanted to keep dancing, and I knew the drink was getting to her. She was finally letting go, fully enjoying the night.
I went back to my seat, and Desai joined her again. Meera told him to take off his suit and dance in just his shirt. He did as she suggested, and this time, he moved better, more confident, more expressive. Their hands strayed beyond just holding each other. Desai's fingers brushed her belly, and soon he was holding her midriff with ease. Meera’s breasts bounced more freely now that she wasn’t worried about the dress slipping. As she moved, I saw Desai's hands grazing her navel, touching her in ways that felt more intimate.
As the song neared its end, Desai stopped dancing but pulled Meera into a hug. She stood there, panting, as if surrendering to his touch. Then he leaned in and kissed her lips. Meera hesitated at first, almost pulling back, but when Desai whispered, "Please," she gave in.
This time, it wasn’t a quick kiss. I watched Desai's jaw move, his mouth opening as he sucked on her lips, taking them completely into his own. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her firmly. Meera didn’t resist. She let it happen – embracing the night for what it was.
The kiss lasted until the song naturally came to an end.
 
Desai looked at her with soft eyes, a smile forming on his lips. Meera smiled back, her gaze warm, as if lost in the moment.
"Thank you for teaching me how to dance, Meera, wow." Desai said, gently leading her back to the couch. They sat side by side, the space between them now gone. I noticed how Desai casually wrapped his left arm around her.
 
The dancing had loosened the neatness of Meera’s dress. Her exposed breasts rose and fell as she panted, but she didn’t seem to care. She simply picked up her drink and took a sip. Her long, delicate hands, the smooth, fully exposed curve of her neck, and the sensual beauty of her cleavage all blended into a striking picture. Desai’s arm tightened around her waist, his hand resting on her belly, his fingers lightly brushing her soft skin through the thin fabric. It was a gentle touch, but there was something possessive in the way he held her, his hand cupping the side of her belly.
 
“I’ve thought about you every single day, Meera,” Desai said quietly, his voice thick with longing. “The memories of our moments together... they’ve been making me miss you so much. And when you blocked my number… it hurt. I kept waiting, hoping you’d reach out, that I’d hear your voice. Every time the phone rang, I felt a rush, thinking it might be you. And when it wasn’t… it felt empty. It’s been hard, Meera.”
He paused, his eyes searching her face for understanding. His hand remained on her belly, his fingers resting there as if drawing comfort from her warmth.
“It’s not just about wanting you. It’s about... needing you. To hear you, to feel you close again. But I wasn’t going to say any of this. I only spoke because I’ve been given this moment. And I realize now – I’ve been waiting for this all along.”
 
As Desai poured his heart out, Meera looked at him with tenderness, her gaze full of understanding. Slowly, her fingers reached up to caress his face, tracing the line of his jaw. The softness of her touch, the way she looked at him, made me wonder – would she pull him in and kiss him? Or would he lean forward and claim her lips again?
But Desai seemed content with just her touch. He sat there, smiling at her, as if her face alone was enough.
 
With every moment they spent together like this, I became more convinced that I had made the right decision. Meera is going to find peace with him, I thought. Desai had the ability to make her melt, to show her how much he desired her.
Our second drink was nearly finished after just a few sips. Meera, now a little tipsy, wasn’t too eager for a third.
"This drink... this drink is strong. Like really, really strong," she said, looking at Desai.
Desai looked at me. "But we can have one more, can’t we?" he suggested. I quickly agreed.
 
This time, when Desai went to the kitchen to make the drinks, I followed him, carrying all three glasses.
He grabbed the cocktail shaker and added three ounces of white rum, lime juice, and simple syrup. I handed him the ice cubes, and he shook the mixture vigorously for about 10–15 seconds. Then, he strained it into our glasses, fine-straining for a smoother texture, and garnished each with strawberry pieces and a bit of peppermint. He repeated the process for the other two glasses, carefully balancing the ingredients.
I did a quick mental calculation of how much white rum we’d already consumed. No wonder Meera got tipsy so quickly.
Desai mentioned he had learned to make this cocktail from a friend during his recent trip to Arunachal Pradesh.
"A female friend?" I asked.
He chuckled. "No, a male friend. Great taste in music. Runs a restro-bar."
Since Meera wasn’t around, I decided to ask him how he felt about the night.
Desai sighed. "I’m still trying to believe it’s real. It feels like a dream to have Meera in my arms again. I’ve dreamt of holding her, kissing her, and taking her to bed – but knowing she won’t be leaving me in the morning... that’s beyond anything I ever imagined."
I was astonished by the depth of his feelings for Meera. No matter how she had unconsciously stirred my emotions, no matter how I had secretly entertained fleeting dreams of being with her again, everything changed at that moment. As I looked into Desai’s eyes and saw his raw desire for Meera, I became more certain than ever – I was right to push her toward him.
"You’ll have her tonight, Desai. And beyond that, I see that you deserve her by your side. In the morning, she won’t be coming back to me."
Desai nodded, his eyes softening.
"I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Krish," he said, stepping forward and hugging me. I was caught off guard by the gesture. It was brief, and he quickly pulled back, his face thoughtful.
"But at the same time, I don’t know how to express what I feel about you. I know you still love her. This must be harder than anything I can imagine. I don’t know what – "
"You don’t have to think too much about me now," I cut him off. "Focus on winning her over. She’s still not completely into you."
"At least she’s agreed to come with me. That means I can hope."
"Yeah," I replied, my voice flat.
"When was the last time you two were intimate?" Desai asked as he finished filling the glasses.
"Two days before you met her at Alpine Heights," I answered.
 
Before he could respond, we heard Meera’s voice from the hall.
"Aren’t you two coming back?"
Desai and I exchanged smiles and carried the drinks back. Meera was waiting eagerly, sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other. The way she sat showed off the perfect shape of her thick thighs.
"What were you guys doing in the kitchen? Talking too much," she said, frowning playfully.
"I was asking Krish when was the last time you two made love," Desai said casually.
Meera raised an eyebrow and, in a quiet voice, said, "Oh, it was yesterday."
I stared at her, stunned.
"What?"
Desai looked at her, then at me.
I kept my eyes locked on Meera.
She smirked. "It was a dream."
I laughed, feeling a wave of relief.
"A dream!"
"Wow, a dream," Desai said, settling next to her. "How did it go? Did he make you come?" he asked, teasing her.
"Yeah, he did," Meera said, flashing a naughty smile. "In fact, when I woke up in the morning, I was surprised to find that the orgasm was real."
I was stunned again. She had not only dreamed of having sex with me but also claimed to have experienced a real orgasm from it. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but she didn’t look like she was lying. She was staring straight into Desai’s eyes, and he believed her. So, I had to believe her too.
"Probably, you're craving warmth," Desai said softly, keeping his gaze on her.
Meera didn’t break eye contact.
"Probably, yes," she whispered.
"Then I hope to turn this night into something with a lot of warmth." Desai said.
Meera stared at him, then broke into a full smile. She looked down, biting her lip, aware of the dirty talk that had just slipped from her. I couldn't help but wonder if, in that moment, she was already picturing herself in his bed, letting him take her with the kind of freedom she might have dreamt of.
I couldn’t watch them any longer and averted my eyes.
 
"Probably you're craving for warmth," Desai said softly, maintaining eye contact.
Meera didn’t break the gaze either.
"Probably, yes," she whispered.
"I would, hopefully, turn this night into something with a lot of warmth," Desai said.
Meera stared at him, and then broke into a full smile. She looked down, biting her lip, aware of the dirty talk that had just slipped from her. I couldn't help but wonder if, in that moment, she was already picturing herself lying in his bed, spreading her legs for him, taking in his thick, monstrous manhood with the kind of reckless freedom she might have only dared to dream of.
I couldn’t watch them any longer and averted my eyes.
 
As Meera took another sip, I noticed she downed a quarter of her drink in one go. It felt like she was leaning on the alcohol to steady herself for what lay ahead. If I was right, she was preparing herself to take in all of Desai’s love tonight. Maybe she knew the next few days would be filled with pain, loss, and tears.
Desai excused himself to use the washroom, leaving Meera and me alone in the hall.
"You didn't tell me about the dream," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Did it really happen?"
"Why do you care?" Meera looked at me, her tone sharp. "What difference would it have made if I had told you?"
"Nothing," I replied, still caught off guard by her words.
Meera stood up and walked toward me. She had to pause for a moment to steady herself. Then, she adjusted the edge of her dress over her breasts, making me aware of their fullness without meaning to.
"Not that you wanted to be a part of it?" she teased, leaning closer. For a second, I thought she might trip, but she didn’t. Before I could react, she cupped my face with both hands and pressed her lips against mine.
The warmth of her kiss hit me hard, both physically and mentally. She was kissing me.
"Mmm... Meera!" I murmured, gently pushing her away. My hands were careful, not wanting to hurt her.
She straightened up, licking her lips as she smiled at me.
"Yummy!" she giggled.
"Meera, please," I said, taking a deep breath.
"What?" she asked, her voice slightly unsteady.
I could tell the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions. I thought about how she had gulped that large sip earlier, and I remembered how Desai had mixed the drinks. Three ounces of white rum in one cocktail… That meant she had already consumed seven or eight ounces.
"Meera, you’re drunk," I warned. "What are you doing? We've already talked about this, and we've made our decisions."
"Yeah, I know." Meera raised her hand as if to stop me and continued. "I know I'm done chasing you, done trying to make amends. It's time I…"
She froze mid-sentence, her words trailing off as she saw Desai walking back into the room.
 
"Am I interrupting you guys?" Desai asked in a pleasant voice.
"No," Meera replied, turning slightly toward him but keeping her eyes on me for a moment longer. Then, she looked at him directly. "I was just telling him I’m done resisting you. There’s no point in that anymore, right? It’s time I stop and really look at you – to see where your heart is."
Desai took a step closer, and Meera reached out, letting her fingers wrap around his. He held her hand firmly, his thumb slowly brushing against her skin.
"Have I been rude to you, Susheel?" she asked, her voice softer now, more intimate.
Desai met her gaze. "I can’t tell. Even if you were, I wouldn’t be offended."
"Because you’ve become blind," Meera whispered, closing the distance between them. Her fingers lifted, trailing from his forehead down to his nose, then to his lips and chin. She traced his features as if memorizing them, her touch slow and deliberate.
"Kiss me, Susheel," she whispered. "I want to feel loved."
Her words hung in the air, thick with longing. I felt their weight settle deep in my chest. My heart pounded. This was it. Meera had finally made her choice.
And Desai seized the opportunity without hesitation. His lips crushed against hers, his arms wrapping around her, holding her as if she might slip away if he didn’t. It wasn’t just a kiss – it was possession, it was hunger. The sound of their lips meeting filled the room, blending with the heavy pounding in my ears.
Meera responded instantly, her jaw shifting, welcoming him, and giving herself over to the moment. I watched as his tongue slipped between her lips, exploring her mouth, and she matched him, pulling him in deeper. She wasn’t holding back – she wanted this just as much as he did.
I sat frozen, watching them drown in each other. Their kiss became more intense, their bodies pressing together as if trying to mould into one.
Desai’s hands roamed over her body, mapping her curves. At first, his touch was careful – his fingers pressing into the small of her back, testing, teasing. But that restraint didn’t last long. His palms travelled lower, grabbing her ass through the thin fabric of her dress, pulling her against him.
I saw the exact moment he made her feel him. The moment his waist pushed against hers, letting her know exactly how hard he had become for her. Meera’s arms moved between them, pressing into his chest. For a split second, I thought she might push him away.
But she didn’t.

to be continued..

[krish_999]

Chapter 51 continues.

Instead, she gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, urging him to grind into her more. Her fingers curled into the fabric, holding onto him as if bracing herself for what was to come.

Desai groaned into her mouth, his lips leaving hers only to travel down her neck. He sucked on her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh just enough to make her gasp. She tilted her chin back, giving him full access, surrendering completely.
Meera arched into him, her body curving with need, pressing herself deeper into his embrace. And in that moment, I knew. The deal was sealed. There was no turning back.
 
I was lost in the moment, but to be honest, I hated every second of it. My eyes burned as I watched them, yet I couldn’t look away. I tried, but my lips still carried the taste of hers – the warmth, the softness, and the way she had pressed against me just moments ago. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how she had reached for me, how her body leaned into mine. Had she really wanted Desai all along, or was this just her way of proving something after I pushed her away?
The more I thought about it, the more it felt like she was being pulled toward me, not him. The way she looked at me when she spoke about her dream. The teasing smile on her lips. The way she had come so close before she kissed me. And now, she was doing the same with him – but it felt different. It felt like she was reacting to what had happened between us. Like she was trying to erase whatever she had felt with me by giving herself to Desai.
I remembered something Desai had told me long ago.
A cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she's been fucked by another man.
I clenched my jaw as the weight of his words settled over me. Meera had given me every sign tonight – signs that she wanted to return, that she was waiting for me to stop her. But I hadn’t. I had let her go. I had pushed her into Desai’s arms, thinking that was what she needed, what I needed.
And now, she had surrendered completely.
Not just to Desai’s touch, but to the fate I had written for her.
For all her inner struggles, for all the times she had resisted, she had finally given in – to Desai’s hunger, to my decision, to the reality that there was no turning back now. And that realization burned through me more than anything else.
 
The room felt heavier than the silence that had settled between us. I stood frozen, my breath caught in my throat, watching Meera and Desai as though they existed in a world just beyond my reach – close enough to see, but impossible to touch. They were inches apart, their faces tilted toward each other, and then, without hesitation, Desai closed the distance. His lips met hers in a kiss that was unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to carve every second into memory. Meera responded, her hands resting lightly on his chest, her lips pressing into his with a quiet surrender.
 
The kiss broke soon, but the air between them remained charged.
Desai exhaled, as if steadying himself, then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and velvety. He flipped open the box, revealing a thin necklace, its whitish-grey colour glinting in the light, with a heart-shaped pendant.
"I think this is the moment," he murmured. "I know it’s too soon to propose – I know you wouldn’t fall for that. But I can’t stop myself from asking you to wear this. Please accept it, Meera."
Meera stared at him, as if her world had come to a standstill. Her eyes didn’t even glance at the necklace for a second.
"I would have said no if you had proposed," she said slowly. "Yes, it’s too soon."
Desai put the empty box back into his pocket and held the necklace with both hands, lifting it up in front of her.
"Take it as a gift," he urged. "I’d love to see you wearing it."
Meera nodded slowly. "Okay."
She extended her hand.
"Allow me to put it on you," Desai said, gently raising the necklace to her neck. Meera hesitated, looking at him.
"But it doesn’t mean anything, deal?"
"Deal."
Meera lowered her hands and tilted her chin, exposing her neck to him.
She smiled. "I’ve lived a lot of fantasies with Krish. Now it’s time to live yours," she said, still smiling.
Desai placed the necklace around her neck and struggled for a moment to fasten the hook behind her head. Meera remained calm, standing still until he finished. Once done, Desai kissed her again – this time shorter, but with a touch of gratitude.
Desai stepped back to admire her. She was a mess – her dress slightly wrinkled, its fabric clinging to her in places. Yet the pendant rested low, nearly vanishing into her deep cleavage, drawing attention effortlessly and adding to the sultry aura she already carried.
"It’s beautiful. And you look stunning, Meera," Desai said.
Meera glanced at the necklace, and then smiled at him. "It’s beautiful."
Desai took both of her hands and pulled her closer.
"You’re beautiful, baby. I can’t wait."
Meera saw what was coming and laughed. "You’ll have to wait, Susheel. You..."
Meera paused as Desai smiled at her understandably and held her hand. He then led her back to the couch, his arm steadying her as she swayed slightly. Once she sat down, he turned to me.
"Sorry, Krish," he said with a chuckle. "Guess I got carried away in the excitement."
Meera leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. "I feel overly drunk. I can't drink anymore."
I took another sip of my drink, rolling the taste over my tongue before swallowing. "The drink is good," I admitted. "That sweet and citrus taste mixed with the bitterness of the rum – it’s hard to tell just how much alcohol is in one glass."
Desai grinned. "That’s because I made it to taste its best."
Meera let out a small laugh, tilting her head toward him. "Ah, now I see your real intentions."
Desai raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"
"You want the night to be wild," she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.
Desai didn't hesitate. "I do. I want the night to be wild – with all of us enjoying."
I let out a dry laugh. "So far, it looks like only two people are enjoying it to the fullest."
Meera shot me a sharp look, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Well, you deserve to sit and stare." She tilted her head, her voice laced with mockery. "Because you’re a heartless man."
Desai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have no plans to leave Krish out of the fun tonight," he said with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes and dared to joke. "I hope you’re not planning a threesome."
Meera made an angry face at me, while Desai burst into laughter.
"He’s got new ideas worth trying,” Desai teased.
Meera turned her head sharply to look at him, her eyes questioning.
Desai laughed even harder at her reaction, shaking his head. "Relax, baby. I’m just messing with you."
Meera rolled her eyes. “Thank God, I’m breaking up with him before it’s too late.”
After a moment of silence between us, Meera slowly spoke more. And she spoke to me.
“It’s not that I wanted to change you, Krish. But I’ve always hoped to see you stand up for what you initiate. You made me sleep with other men, allowed me to play with my emotions, and then you began experimenting with it. I knew I would falter, but instead of hiding in the background, watching where I was heading, I would’ve preferred for you to be a part of it—guide me, bring me back when I lost my way. I've never attached myself to anyone the way I have with you. But with Susheel, you pushed me too far. The threat of leaving me—it was too much. At one point, I even thought it was just a game between the two of you. But when I realized it was real, I prayed that it was just a game."
Meera said, and I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t have put it any better myself. But deep down, I knew it was too late to correct myself.
 
Both Desai's and my drinks were nearly finished, so we decided to empty our glasses. Meera, however, shook her head. "I don't want to pass out," she said.
Desai smirked. "Then Krish and I will share your drink."
Meera's eyes widened. "You've learned a lot of silly stuff from Krish. I warn you – don't do it."
But Desai ignored her warning, took her glass, and poured the remaining drink equally into ours. We clinked the bottoms of our glasses together before finishing it in one go.
He then turned to Meera on an afterthought. “A few minutes ago, you said you’re not attached to anyone. Does that mean it’s going to be tough for me?” He asked.
“You know how tough I can be, Susheel.” Meera said. “But you’re a tough guy too. I agreed to Krish’s demand to come with you because of that—you can withstand heartbreak.”
“I won’t let you break my heart.”
“I want to believe that, Romeo.”
 
After that, we proceeded to have dinner. Desai mentioned that he only needed a light meal.
Meera smirked. "Preserving your energy for the night?" she teased.
Desai raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t I?"
Meera flushed at his direct tease. "Mmm… tell me," he pressed, leaning slightly toward her.
Meera turned away with a shy smile. "Shut up," she muttered.
I watched them, and Meera noticed. She gestured for me to eat, so we all focused on our plates. None of us ate much, and dinner ended quickly.
 
Afterward, we returned to the hall. Meera started toward the room. "I need to change," she said.
Desai stopped her with a soft, "Please… keep it."
Meera stared at him for a few seconds, as if processing his words. Then, I saw it – the flicker of understanding in her eyes. I understood it too.
Desai wanted her to step into his bedroom in the same dress. He wanted to welcome her like this – just as she was – into his bed and into his life.
I realized then that this night wasn’t about the union of two souls – it was purely about the union of two bodies. Desai hardly made an effort to talk about anything meaningful; he was more focused on teasing, turning every moment into a game of seduction. It was as if he believed that sleeping with Meera tonight was necessary, that taking her to bed and claiming her there was the best way forward.
In a way, he had his reasons to think so. After all, the version of Meera he longed for – the one he truly connected with – was the one he had found in moments of intimacy. Perhaps Desai had come with a plan. A plan to take her to bed, to drown her in the pleasure he knew he could give, and at the right moment, claim not just her body, but her heart.
I was sure Meera wouldn’t be able to say no to him.
I wondered what his ultimate wish for the night was. To make Meera say yes to his proposal? Earlier, he had spotted a moment to propose but had held back, admitting it was too soon. Maybe he was waiting for the perfect moment.
And that moment would come tonight.
The more I thought about it, the more I started to believe it.
 
Meera had come back to the hall but then hesitated for a moment. "I am feeling heavy...my head like a mess," She said. "I think having some soup would help."
She looked at both of us. "Who else wants some?"
Desai and I exchanged glances.
"Okay, I’ll have some," I said.
Desai shook his head sideways, "No thanks, baby."
She nodded and walked away, both me and Desai watching the soft sway of her hips.
As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, Desai leaned toward me, lowering his voice.
"She’s making sure she walks into my bed with a clear mind."
I noticed how Desai spoke like it was now a certainty that Meera would sleep with him. I let out a short breath. "Good for you."
Desai smirked, but then he looked at me carefully, as if noticing something beneath my calm tone.
"You okay?" he asked.
I wasn’t.
I threw a glance toward the kitchen before speaking. "No, I’m not."
Desai waited, giving me the space to continue. I didn’t look at him when I spoke, but I knew he was listening.
"I still love her, Desai." I admitted. "But I’m still pushing her toward you. Not because I want to. But because I have to."
Desai stayed quiet.
"If I stay with her, I’ll only ruin her," I continued. "I know what kind of man I am, Desai. I’ve come to terms with it. I’ll end up making her sleep with other men, whether she wants it or not, because… that’s how I am." I swallowed hard. "But with you, it’s different. I’ve seen it. She has chemistry with you. A real one. And I think you deserve to be her lifelong companion."
Desai still didn’t say anything, but I could sense he was absorbing every word.
"She’s told me, and I’ve seen it myself," I went on. "When she’s with you, she forgets everything else. I mean in bed. And let’s be real – bedroom is the foundation of marriage. Everything else – money, power, job, society – it all comes after that. Maybe someday she’ll find someone even better than you, Desai. But I’m not worried about that. I’m only worried about making sure she moves on from me."
I exhaled, feeling lighter after saying it out loud. "That’s why I’m pushing her to you. It’s up to you to make it or break it. But tonight, she’s all yours."
Desai finally spoke. "Krish… this is the ultimate sacrifice." He paused. "But I’m not a fool. I don’t believe she’ll just choose me over you overnight."
I gave a short, dry chuckle. "It’s not overnight. It’s been a long road to get here. Fights, arguments, resistance – Meera has pushed back every step of the way. We didn’t reach this point just like that. It’s been a long battle."
Desai nodded. "I know." He took a deep breath, then looked at me again. "But I still need your help."
I turned to him, frowning slightly. "Help for what?"
Desai hesitated, then spoke carefully. "To make her move on from you completely."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
He gave me a look. "Krish, don’t take this the wrong way. But the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
I froze. My fingers tightened around my glass.
I turned to him slowly. "What the hell are you saying?"
Desai sighed, leaning back. "You have to watch. Become a part of... "
"No. I can’t." I didn't let him finish. "I don’t want to."
Before Desai could respond, we heard the sound of footsteps – slow, slightly uneven.
 
Meera walked in, carrying two bowls of soup, her movements just a little too careful, like she was trying to mask the sway in her steps.
Both of us straightened immediately, dropping the conversation.
She looked between us as she handed me a bowl. "What were you two talking about?"
"Nothing," Desai said smoothly.
I took a sip from my soup in silence, my mind still stuck on his words.
"You guys are acting weird," Meera muttered, sitting down with Desai.
Desai smiled at her. "Just men talk, baby."
She rolled her eyes and started sipping her soup, unaware of the silent battle happening between us.
And as I stared down at my soup, I realized something.
Desai wasn’t just planning to take Meera to bed tonight.
He was planning to claim her.
As Meera and I sipped our soup, Desai asked her what kind it was. She said it was a corn soup. “Quick to make.” she added.
Desai nodded. “I can smell the aroma,” he said, then smirked. “Would you share?”
Meera scoffed. “Oh, now you want some?”
Desai leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you don’t, I’ll just have to steal it from your mouth. Literally.”
Meera shot him a serious stare but then, unable to hold it, a playful smile curled on her lips. She scooped some soup onto a spoon, blew gently to cool it, and brought it to Desai’s lips. He took in the whole spoonful, swallowing without hesitation.
“It’s good,” he said.
Meera shrugged. “It’s just from a ready-made pack. Nothing special.”
Desai shook his head. “No, it tastes better somehow. I don’t know why.”
Meera narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then took another spoonful for herself. Something clicked in her mind. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the hint of realization dawning in her expression.
I watched on as they continued sharing the same spoon, drinking from the same bowl, their subtle playfulness filling the air between them.
 
I casually asked him about the flight details for next day.
“I was about to tell you.” Desai leaned back in his chair he looked at Meera with a quiet intensity. “I told my parents that a true gift is waiting for them next week,” he said.
Meera blinked, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not taking you to the resort first,” Desai said. “I’m taking you home. To my parents.”
His words surprised both me and Meera. He had told me that he was going to take Meera for a week-long trip to bamboo resort.
Desai went on, “I want you to meet them first, Meera. I don’t want this to feel like a getaway. I want it to feel real. You should meet them, understand where I come from, and then decide if you still want to go to the resort.”
Meera kept the soup bowl back on the centre table. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. But I saw the shift in her eyes; as if the wall she kept up against Desai was collapsing. She looked straight and I saw her eyes becoming wet. She lowered her eye slowly, shaking her head, and then to our surprise, she covered her face with hands and let out a soft sob.
Desai was unsure, reflecting my own reaction.
“Meera?” he called.
Meera looked up, and her lips quivered. “I was awful to you,” she turned to him. “Especially after that day at Alpine Heights. I was rude to you… I… I thought I knew exactly where my heart stood. But maybe I didn’t.”
Desai's face softened, “Meera, you don’t…”
She didn’t let him finish. She reached for him, cupping his face with both hands, and pressed her lips to his.
It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t desperate. It was deliberate. A moment of surrender, of acceptance.
I watched from the side, witnessing the rare moment of Meera letting herself lean into Desai, and slowly, perhaps, her heart truly begin to shift towards him.
She picked up the soup again and took a spoonful to her mouth. It was nearly finished. She then offered the last spoonful to Desai.
Desai took it and smiled at her.
“I wish you’d say you love me, at least now,” Desai blurted. “If you can’t, then at least spit into my mouth.”
“What?” Meera looked at him, surprised. “That’s an awful thing to suggest.”
“I thought it was a gesture,” Desai said.
“It wasn’t a gesture of love. It was…” She stole a glance at my face before continuing. “It’s just some ultimate kinky stuff Krish taught me. It has psychological value in our heads, but I’m not emotionally attached to it. I don’t want to spit into someone’s mouth to say I love them.” She pulled a face, then let out a laugh at the absurdity of it. “How awful to think like that.”
Desai laughed, then said, “But I loved the taste. Never mind.”
“I will never spit into your mouth,” Meera said, looking at him. “You’ll have to find another kink if that’s what you want.”
And now, she was full of smiles.
 
As the soup finished, I volunteered to take the bowls to the kitchen. After that, I made a quick visit to the washroom as well.
When I returned, I saw them sitting closer, Desai’s arm dbangd around her. They were deep in conversation, and Meera was gushing – her eyes bright, her smile effortless. I stopped at the door, choosing not to enter the hall.
I watched as Meera shook her head, murmuring a soft "no," though there was no real resistance in her tone. She raised a hand in emphasis, her fingers moving in a way I couldn’t quite decipher. Desai caught that hand, holding it for a moment before letting it go. Instead, he gently turned her face toward him – and kissed her.
At first, it was Desai kissing her, but within seconds, Meera leaned in, pressing her lips back against his with unmistakable intent. From where I stood, half-hidden inside the bedroom doorway, I saw Desai’s right hand glide from her face down to her neck, then lower, tracing slow circles around her left breast. Meera didn’t flinch, didn’t stop him. And in that moment, I knew – she was ready to welcome him.
Then, as their lips parted, Desai saw me. Though he didn’t startle, he slowly withdrew his hand from her chest. His eyes met mine.
"Come, Krish. We're just talking," he said casually.
I exhaled. "I think it's time to sleep."
Desai smirked. "Come on, Meera is still sloppy."
Meera elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Ouch!" he groaned.
"Who is sloshy…?" she mumbled, then quickly corrected herself. "Sloppy."
Desai chuckled. "Your kiss was very sloppy. Your tongue was sloppy. I don’t want to take you to bed yet."
Meera jabbed him again, this time with the back of her elbow.
I walked into the hall and sat on my couch while they continued their playful banter.
"What’s wrong with my tongue being sloppy?" Meera asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I like your tongue sharp always," Desai teased. "Especially in bed."
Meera scoffed, then wrapped both hands around his neck, pretending to choke him. "You pervert!"
Desai laughed, still not looking at me, as he playfully struggled to free himself. "Krish, looks like you're going to end up watching us make love right here. This lady is too hot and aggressive to resist."
And before she could react, he suddenly pulled her closer, leaning back. Meera lost her balance and fell on top of him. Desai wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her face dangerously close to his.
From where I sat, all I could see was Meera’s round ass and the smooth curve of her legs. I didn’t know if they kissed again – but I was sure Desai wouldn’t have let the moment slip.
But my doubt was quickly erased as Meera continued to stay on top of him, Desai’s arm wrapping around her hip. His right hand soon reached back to caress her ass – though it looked more like an attempt to steady her from slipping off.
"Leave me! I'll spit on you, you moron," Meera warned, narrowing her eyes.
Desai grinned. "You're welcome to spit into my mouth."
Meera scoffed. "I’ll spit on your face."
Desai smirked. "You can do whatever you want to me."
Meera lifted her fist and playfully thumped his chest. "Desai…" she muttered in a tone that was half-warning, half-laugh.
And in the next second, with a quick push of his right foot against the floor, Desai twisted her whole body to the left, making her fall onto the couch beside him. In one swift stroke, he had her lying next to him – though he himself didn’t have enough space to stretch out properly.
In the brief struggle, his right hand brushed firmly against the top edge of her dress, and in an instant, the fabric slipped down.
Suddenly, her left breast was fully exposed.
I was stunned.
"Hey!" Meera yelped.
Desai quickly apologized and tried to pull the edge of her dress back up, but it wasn’t easy. His fingers fumbled against the fabric, and in the process, he ended up brushing against her breast a couple of times.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" Meera snapped, as is his touch burnt her.
 
Desai immediately pulled back and sat up. Meera did the same, her face turning toward me in embarrassment. Avoiding my gaze, she hastily pulled her dress up, struggling for a moment before finally managing to cover herself.
I said, "Guys, I think you’re ready. At least I should leave you alone."
But Desai shook his head. "No, bro. Please, stay."
Meera shot him a warning look. "But stop doing this."
Desai smirked. "Who started this?"
Meera didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to me. "Please, Krish, let’s call it a day."
Her words – though meant to make Desai behave – hit me like thunder. She had told me to call it a day. In other words, she wanted me to go to my room. Hadn’t she just made her choice clear? Hadn’t she chosen her partner?
My heart sank, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that I was prepared for this moment.
Desai said, "Babe, let him stay. He’s part of our love story."
Meera stared at him. "What do you mean?"
Desai looked her in the eyes. "It’s the last time he’ll get the chance to fulfil his long-standing wish."
Meera frowned. "What wish?"
Desai held her gaze and said, "To watch us."
Meera’s reaction was instant. "No." She turned to me. "Krish..."
Desai also turned to me. "Krish, say yes."
I could see the request in his eyes. Both of them were staring at me, waiting for my response. And I said, "No, I don’t want to watch."
Desai’s face showed subtle disappointment, but he didn’t give up. "Krish, you want to watch." Then he turned back to Meera. "Honey, listen to me. Please, give him a chance to forget you. Let him... help him move on."
"Susheel, no," Meera said firmly. "This is not..." She trailed off, and Desai gently grabbed her hand.
I had almost risen from my seat, but Desai quickly said, "Krish, please sit. I know you want to watch us."
And before Meera could protest, he pulled her closer and kissed her.
"Baby, I want him to witness," he murmured as he broke the quick kiss.
Desai’s lips moved against Meera’s, coaxing her into the kiss. She resisted at first, pushing lightly against his chest, but he didn’t stop. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. Her resistance wavered, her breath hitching as his lips claimed hers more aggressively. Slowly, she gave in, her hands clutching at his shirt instead of pushing him away.
Their kiss turned wilder, their mouths moving hungrily against each other. I heard Desai whisper between breaths, "Let me taste your tongue, baby."
Meera hesitated, but then, as if surrendering completely, she allowed him to suck it into his mouth.
Desai groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Mmm... it's getting sharper."
Meera let out a soft laugh, only for her open mouth to be captured again. This time, I saw Desai’s tongue slip out, trailing down from her chin before thrusting into her mouth again. Meera sucked on it, her body pressing closer to him.
At the same time, Desai’s right hand moved with purpose, reaching for the top edge of her dress. Slowly, he tugged it downward, exposing her breast once more – but this time, there was no accident.
 
Meera gasped and made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but Desai pressed forward. His mouth still devouring hers, his fingers grazing over her bare skin. Then, he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled back just enough to take in the sight of her exposed breast.
His eyes darkened with desire, and a grin curled at his lips.
"I want it, baby," he said ecstatically.
Meera said, "Not here, let's go to the room."
She quickly stole a glance at me, and I couldn't guess whether she was disappointed by my presence. But she had seen me. She knew I wasn’t leaving. Desai’s words came back to my mind.
"To make her move on from you completely... the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
 
He was right. Just by selling her the idea that I hadn't changed, I could help her decide in favour of moving on from me.
And he had already planted that belief in her mind by telling her to let me witness them – imprinting a final image in my head of her and him, irreversibly intimate.
Meera’s resistance had faded. She lowered her hand, leaving her left breast exposed, and leaned back on the couch, silently accepting the moment. Desai reached out, his fingers brushing against her skin as he untangled her necklace, which had shifted out of place from their movements. His palm lingered over her bare breast, tracing slow circles before moving toward the other side of her dress.
With deliberate ease, he gripped the fabric and pulled it down. The dress resisted for a moment before sliding lower, unveiling her fully. Her breasts, with tits semi-erect, appeared bigger than usual against the tight folds of fabric gathered beneath them, the soft weight of them rising and falling with each breath. Desai exhaled, taking in the sight, his eyes dark with desire.
“How can you be so beautiful, Meera? I'm growing older day by day.”
Meera sighed, “Not here, old man! Please. I am begging you, take me to the room. I can’t enjoy this. It’s getting awkward.”
This time, I sided with her. “Desai, take her to the bedroom.”
"Okay," Desai smirked and turned to me. “But you’ll follow us.”
I nodded. I had already decided to go along with his idea.
Desai stood first, then helped Meera to her feet. As soon as she stood up, she pulled her dress back up to cover her breasts. But Desai had other plans. With a sudden motion, he swept her into his arms, making her gasp in surprise.
Meera laughed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know you’re not an old man, Susheel. You don’t have to prove it again and again.”
Desai grinned. “This is how I want to do it.”
“Fantasies,” Meera murmured, shaking her head with a playful smile.
 
He carried her toward the room opposite our master bedroom. Halfway there, he lifted her higher, making her squeal softly before his lips captured hers again. Their kiss deepened mid-air, and Meera’s legs swung slightly with the motion of his steps.
I followed a few steps behind, watching as she melted into him. Her dress had slipped slightly again, but she didn’t seem to care.
Desai pulled away just enough to murmur against her lips, "You taste incredible, baby."
Meera chuckled breathlessly. "You're just obsessed with kissing me, aren’t you?"
"I am," Desai admitted, brushing his nose against hers. "And I plan to show you just how much."
I didn’t follow Desai. He had reached the door of the bedroom, still carrying Meera in his arms. Instead of pushing it open himself, he stood there, waiting. Then he turned his head and looked at me.
"Krish, could you help me open the door?" His voice was calm, almost playful. "I don’t want to put her down before I reach the bed. It'll ruin the romantic feel."
I hesitated. It was clear he was just finding reasons to pull me along with him, making sure I didn't stay behind.
 
I got up and slowly walked toward them. As I reached the door and pushed it open, I muttered, "I’m afraid you’re wasting your energy in the wrong place."
Desai chuckled, stepping inside. "I don’t need physical energy tonight, Krish," he said, glancing at Meera, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck. "I’m emotionally very charged."
He carried Meera inside the room and I stood just outside the room.
This was it. The moment Desai had envisioned – the moment he wanted me to witness.
I noticed Meera’s gaze flickering toward me briefly, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her face back to Desai, as if she had made her choice.
 
As I stood outside the door, I watched Desai reach the bed and gently lower Meera onto it. The moment her back touched the mattress, he hurriedly leaned over her, his mouth capturing hers in a deep kiss. He had to bend slightly, obscuring my view of her, but I saw her face tilted upward, lips locked with his. As their kiss deepened, Desai began unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his urgency evident.
I knew I should stay – I had promised Desai I would. But I couldn’t watch. Not this. Not when he had already won. He wouldn’t remember me for the next few minutes. Why would he? He had what he wanted the most. And he had ensured that Meera saw me opening the door for them, giving her one last confirmation that I was never meant to be her man.
From this moment on, I had no purpose in Meera’s life – except to hear her surrender to him one last time.
 
I turned away, walking back to my couch. My throat felt unbearably dry. Grabbing a water bottle, I took a long sip, trying to swallow the reality of what was unfolding behind me.
The bedroom door remained open. I couldn’t hear anything yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Meera’s voice filled the silence – accepting him, submitting to his touch, merging with his desire.
Tomorrow, Desai’s ultimate wish would be fulfilled. He would wake up with Meera.
I settled onto the couch and sighed. A deep, growing emptiness spread through me. I had pushed Meera away – because it was the only way to give her the peace she deserved. I had convinced myself that, in doing so, I would also free myself from the grip of my own twisted desires. But I had never considered the cost. I had never imagined the void that would follow, the hollow ache settling like dead weight in my chest.
It was hell. A hell of my own making.
 
A soft giggle floated from the bedroom, pulling me back to the moment. Desai must have started bringing out his A-game.
I reached for the empty glass on the table, debating whether I should pour myself a drink. But I couldn’t lift it. The coldness of the glass against my skin felt meaningless. The drink wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would.
What would help, though?
My gaze drifted back to the door. It stood open, an unspoken invitation. And I realized – Desai was right. Perhaps both Meera and I needed a final image, something inescapable, undeniable. A truth I could never un-see, never forget. A memory carved so deeply into my mind that it would finally force me to move on.
A final image. That was the key.
 
I rose to my feet; my legs heavy yet steady, and walked toward the door. Each step felt like both a betrayal and a necessity.
The door stood open.
And then I saw it.
Meera lay on the bed, still in her dress, but it had lost its shape. The fabric had slipped off her breasts down to her hips, with the hem gathered at her waist. She looked as good as completely nude. Desai was shirtless, and his strong, muscular body was on top of her, though he wasn’t resting his weight on her. His knees were placed between her parted thighs, and his body inwardly curved over hers. His mouth was on her breasts, feasting on their softness. I saw his tongue dancing around the centre of her softness, his hunger evident in the way he licked beneath them.
Meera’s arms moved uncertainly at first, as if she didn’t know where to place them. But as I watched, they slowly wrapped around Desai’s head, fingers threading through his hair. She was welcoming his touch.
I didn’t feel anger. Not even jealousy. Just a hollow emptiness settling deep in my chest – a void I couldn’t fill. This was my reality now. This was what I had chosen.
I was about to step back, to retreat from the scene, when Desai turned his eyes to me. There was no surprise in his gaze – just a calm acknowledgment, as if he had always known I would be there.
“Come on in, Krish,” he said, his voice low but commanding.
 
In that moment, I understood. This wasn’t just my last opportunity. It was his too – his last chance to let me watch, to imprint this moment in my mind forever. Like me, he was a man of fantasies, and this was his way of claiming victory.
Against the part of me that screamed to turn away, my feet moved forward, obeying his words. My eyes were unable to look away. Desai looked pleased, and he turned his attention back to Meera, his fix on Meera.
I stood there, a silent witness to the unravelling of everything I had once held dear. And as I watched, a strange indifference crept in, as if my subconscious mind had already accepted the inevitable. I started to feel like an intruder in someone else’s intimate space.
Desai's head lowered back into Meera, his lips plunging into her neck, and I saw him licking her throat with his wet tongue. I saw his right hand move under her body, supporting his weight on it. His other hand drifted downward, slipping between her parted legs, and he slid it inside her panty from the front. He was aiming for her centre, and Meera wasn’t ready for it; she flinched – not entirely resisting, but as if her body wasn’t sure whether to yield or fight. She grabbed Desai's hand before he could reach his targeted spot.
Desai pulled his hand back but gently grabbed Meera's hand, stretching her arm across the bed before turning to me.
"Hold her, Krish," he said quietly, his words more an invitation than a command. And he perhaps knew I would do anything at the moment. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to demand such an action from me.
My heart stopped, but my body moved before I could think. I moved forward and sat on the bed and reached out, my fingers wrapping around Meera’s hand – warm, familiar, yet distant in a way that felt cold. She didn’t turn her eyes to me, but she knew of my presence, my touch.
Desai stretched her other hand to the opposite side with his right hand, making her lie fully open to his will. He lowered his face to her. This time, he didn’t go for her lips but instead brought his face to her right armpit, licking there at an unhurried, deliberate pace. Meera’s expression shifted between disbelief and surrender – she was caught in his act of utmost worship. She exhaled again as Desai licked her armpit once more.
“Susheel…” Meera giggled a little this time. “What are you doing?”
“Just tasting you a little bit,” Desai teased. “I wanted to do it the moment I saw you in this dress, baby.”
He licked again, and then soon shifted his oral worship back to her breasts.
 
But, unbeknownst to him – or at least, that’s what I thought at the time – there was something else happening. As Desai licked Meera’s armpit, Meera’s fingers had clasped mine, almost as a reflex. I felt a lightning bolt pass through my body, and it didn’t let go as Meera continued to hold my hand, even when Desai shifted his attention elsewhere.
The reality of the moment suddenly began to slip away from my mind.
 
After a few seconds, Desai slowly sat up on his knees. Unhurriedly, he pushed both hands under her dress and slid down her panty. Lifting her legs, he removed it completely, and with a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward me. Instinctively, I leaned forward and caught it with my left hand. The fabric was soft, still carrying the warmth of Meera – or at least, that’s how it felt.
Desai’s action of throwing her panty to me seemed symbolic, as if he wasn’t just removing her clothes but peeling away the layers that had once tied her to me. Piece by piece, handing them back, as if returning borrowed memories.
Desai’s gaze met mine again. "This is going to be very intimate," he said and smiled at Meera, as if speaking to both of us. "And you are going to love this."
Without wasting any time, he spread her thighs and lowered his head between them. Her clothes shifted, and I caught a glimpse of her nicely shaved pussy before Desai’s mouth sealed its entrance. Meera let out a soft gasp, and her grip on my hand tightened. I, too, gripped her hand with care, as if she needed me for this.
After a few seconds, Desai lifted his mouth off her and used his fingers to spread her lips, then licked a certain spot.
"Mmm…" Meera moaned, her chest arching. Her other hand quickly grabbed Desai's hair as he kneaded her pleasure spot with his tongue. She pulled his hair a bit too harshly, it seemed, and Desai glanced up at me.
"Take it off, Krish," he said, touching her dress. "Help her get it off."
Meera, this time, looked up, and her eyes met mine. I felt I shouldn’t wait for a response from her. I moved closer and started removing the dress, pulling it upward. Surprisingly, Meera helped by lifting her torso slightly. As the dress was pulled, my hand subtly brushed against the softness of her breasts. A current passed through my body. A perverse thought suddenly overwhelmed me, and I found myself slowing down, making sure I felt over her breasts more than once.
As the dress was finally taken off, Meera was completely nude. She looked more perfect than ever, even from my upside-down view.
 
As Desai plunged his mouth again between her legs, I saw Meera letting out a gasp, her mouth opening and her eyes almost closing, but her gaze was fixed on me. She seemed pleased by my presence and touch, contrary to my expectations. I felt she, too, was deriving some discreet pleasure from this, allowing a stranger to intrude between her and her loving partner. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about what was happening between them; it was about what was unravelling within us.
Then, Desai looked up and saw her gaze, and he didn’t oppose.
'You can express your love for her, Krish,' he said calmly, then assured me, 'She belongs to both of us tonight.'
I was already on the verge, caught between the past and present, between letting go and holding on. The space between us had never felt smaller, yet the gap had never been wider. My gaze again met Meera’s, searching for something – hesitation, permission, resistance. And I couldn’t wait to find out.
I moved behind her head and bent down to kiss her. It was an upside-down kiss, with my nose touching her chin as our lips met. Meera responded softly at first, and then her lips opened. The greed to have more of what belonged to someone else was simply overwhelming me. I cupped her face with my hands and went on to deepen the kiss. Soon, I found her tongue touching mine, and I sucked it readily.
Just as I thought of pushing my tongue into her mouth, a muffled sound escaped her lips – something between a moan and a cry.
"Aaah…"
It took me a moment to understand why, and as I looked toward Desai, I saw that he had pushed his dick into her!
 
I was stunned by the manner in which he chose to claim the ultimate experience of owning Meera, right in front of me, just as she was momentarily warming up my feelings. I hadn’t even heard or noticed when Desai had lowered his pants as I got busy with the kiss. But he had not only done that; he had gotten into a perfect position between her legs and had shoved his full-size manhood into her in one smooth go, making Meera cry into my mouth.
 
I swallowed and watched as Desai pulled back and then pushed again.
"Aaah..." Meera let out another soft cry. She grabbed my hands, which I was still cupping her face.
“Kiss her more, Krish. She’s liking the fun. You can take off your shirt if you want.” Desai said, his voice charged with the pleasure and thrill of having his dick buried inside her tight pussy.
"No...aaah..." Meera gasped. But I had lost my will to listen. I lowered my head and kissed her. And this time, I kissed her with the intention to choke her with my maddened kiss. But Meera kept exhaling forcefully as Desai started moving in a rhythm. He had started to fuck her smoothly.
Her head was moving too much to be held onto my kiss, but I didn’t let her go. I grabbed her chin with my left hand and instinctively started caressing around her neck with my other hand. Soon, my hand traced the smooth skin beyond her neck and found the softness of her breasts. Her breasts were swaying as Desai's body hit her from the centre, and my fingers soon went searching for her tits.
Meera trembled beneath my touch, but she soon found her bearings in what was happening. She broke our kiss and whispered, “We have to stop, Krish.”
We.
The distant hint her words carried about the existence of such a term simply made me stay in the moment.
I didn’t stop.
Instead, I got up and pulled my shirt over my head, exactly like Desai had done earlier.
Then I bent down again to kiss her.
“Go on, man. You’re doing well,” I heard Desai's voice. I felt like I was imagining it.
“Krish… no…” Meera struggled under my kiss.
No. I am not imagining it.
Desai had urged me to go on.
I soon shifted my lips down to her neck and followed the path Desai had carved a few minutes ago to find the softness of her breasts. I licked the same spots Desai had teased and tasted. Meera's hands were trying to push me away, but her tits were becoming harder, making me believe that she was enjoying it. I knew she was enjoying it, though I could admit to myself that she needed to believe it.
“Meera,” I heard Desai's voice behind my head. “Tell Krish what’s left in your heart for him. Say it.”
“I still love you, Krish,” she whispered readily, her voice trembling. “I do.”
Her words hit me like a wave.
“But you’ll be in my bed tomorrow, baby.” Desai's voice broke my attention. I swallowed. “He’s right, baby…” I said. “You’ll be in his bed from tomorrow, Meera.”
Meera looked at me like she heard something she didn’t want to hear. Then she nodded. “But I’ll never forget you, Krish. Never.”
“I doubt that.” Desai chuckled. “You’ll forget,” he said, his voice low and confident. “I’ll fuck you hard enough to make sure of it.”
I twisted my head to try to look deep into Meera's eyes, my chest tight. “Won’t you love it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Won’t you love getting fucked by him?”
She hesitated, then cried, “Yes… yes, I will.”
I nodded. “You belong to him now.”
As I said that, Meera wrapped her left arm around my neck to pull me down and kissed me fiercely.
“Yes,” she murmured against my lips, over and over. “Yes, yes, yes…”
Meera's voice rose dramatically, so did her breathing, and I knew from the way her whole body trembled that Desai had started to fuck her faster. Meera's eyes met mine again, glazed with pleasure but still holding a flicker of something deeper, something that felt like an apology, or maybe a farewell.
“Aaah… my Meera… my baby…” Desai's voice was charged with ecstasy. “This is so great… Just to fuck you like this… You’ll love fucking me from tomorrow. I’d like to be your slave… you know that, baby?”
“Aaah…please…” Meera spoke between her raised breathing. “Please don’t make me do this…Susheel…aaaah!”
“Come on, baby… he too deserves your love tonight. It’s okay. Give him some love.” And he paused for a moment to get my attention. “Lower your pants, Krish. Let her see it…”
I was stunned by his suggestion. I looked up, and he gave a few more thrusts into Meera, this time making her cry louder.
Then he paused. “You can move this side if you want,” he insisted again, pointing to Meera's right side. I wiped my face, attempting to check if this was really happening. I remembered sitting in the hall and holding a rum cocktail, but I couldn’t remember actually drinking it. Perhaps it had evaporated, or it had dissolved into my blood and sweat so deeply that I started to feel like I was the cocktail.
There was little I could do to control myself. I moved slowly at first to shift to Meera's right side, and then hurried to lower my pants – without even bothering to loosen the waist.

to be continued...

[krish_999]

Chapter 51 continues.

As soon as I slid my pants a few inches down from my waist, my throbbing erection – though concealed in my underwear – suddenly left me embarrassed, wondering if Meera would think I had fallen into Desai’s trap again, succumbing to his fantasies. But I thought that I was just a stranger, an external element introduced to heighten his mating game with his woman.

“Lower it, Krish,” Desai said again. “Let her see how excited you are to witness this. Let her see what she does to you.”
Before he finished, I had started to lower my underwear as well. My dick sprang free, throbbing and hard, a testament to the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. I quickly bent down and kissed Meera deeply, as if to reclaim her. Meera responded, her lips soft and yielding, her breath warm against mine.
Desai was watching us, and I heard his voice soon. “Meera,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Hold him. Touch him. He’s here for you. Let him feel your care.”
"Please... Susheel... no...." Meera's voice was a whisper as she went on, "I can’t believe… how this is all happening.”
Desai’s voice broke through the air, calm but commanding. “He’s still your husband, honey,” he said, his tone almost tender, as if reminding Meera of something she’d forgotten. His hand rested on her hip, possessive yet gentle, as he guided her attention toward me. “Show him some care.”
Meera’s eyes flickered to mine, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken tension. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly, but then she reached out, her fingers brushing against my thigh before wrapping around my hardening length. It sent a jolt of electricity through me. Her touch was tentative at first, but it quickly grew firmer, more deliberate, as she began to stroke me.
 
I bent down, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and pressed my lips to hers. Meera responded immediately, her mouth opening to mine, her tongue meeting mine with a hunger that surprised me. Her saliva was sweet, intoxicating, and I lost myself in the taste of her, in the warmth of her body so close to mine. Her hand moved faster, her grip tightening as our kisses deepened, and I felt myself surrendering to the moment, to her.
"It feels like a dream. Am I in someone else's dream?" I heard Meera blurt.
Desai chuckled. “You’re in my dream, my dream girl,” he said, lifting her legs up in the air, and his hands gripping her hips as he began to move again in a slow steady rhythm.
Meera’s hand on me tightened, her strokes slowing down to match the pace of Desai’s thrusts, and I still I felt myself being pushed to an edge, caught between the physical pleasure of her touch and the emotional weight of the moment.
I leaned down to kiss her again, but this time, she was the one who pulled away, her head tilting back as another moan escaped her lips. “Aaaah…!” she cried, her body trembling beneath us both. Desai’s movement had begun to grow forceful, more urgent, and Meera’s cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and surrender.
I watched her, my heart pounding, my own release building as her hand continued to move. This was it – the moment I had both feared and longed for. The moment that would forever be etched into my memory, a final, unflinching glimpse of what I had lost.
After fucking Meera to the point where her grip on my dick faltered, Desai paused. He turned her knees to her right, the movement deliberate, and slapped her round ass with a sharp, echoing sound.
“This roundness,” he said, his voice low and appreciative, “will never stop exciting me.”
He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her ass cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened up.
 
Meera’s legs were turned to her right, but her torso and head remained facing upward. Desai guided himself back into her from behind, and as soon as he began thrusting, her whole body shook. The force of his movements turned her completely to her right, and now she was facing me.
Her eyes met mine, hazy but focused, and without hesitation, she reached out and took my dick in her hand again. Her touch was firm, almost possessive, as if she needed to hold onto something real amidst the chaos. Desai’s rhythm was relentless, each thrust sending tremors through her body, but Meera’s grip on me never loosened.
Meera was lost in the pleasure Desai was giving her, her body trembling with every powerful thrust. Desai was in complete control, dominating her with a rhythm that left her breathless and moaning. I watched, my own desire burning hotter, unable to stand by as just a spectator. I had given in too far to turn back now.
Slowly, I moved closer, my fingers threading through her hair as I gently guided her head toward me. Her lips parted, and I pushed my dick into her mouth, inch by inch, careful not to overwhelm her. The warmth of her mouth sent a shiver through me, and I couldn’t help but groan.
 
Desai, caught off guard, stopped mid-thrust, his eyes widening as he watched me take control. For a moment, the room was silent except for Meera’s muffled sounds and the heavy breathing of all three of us. Desai’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker, more intense, as he realized what was happening.
Meera’s eyes flickered up to mine, hazy but aware, and she didn’t resist. Instead, she began to move her lips, taking me deeper, her hands gripping my thighs for balance.
“Wow. That’s some stuff,” Desai said, his voice low and appreciative, before he started fucking her again. His thrusts were powerful, deliberate, each one driving Meera closer to the edge. Her movements lost their balance, her body trembling under the force of his rhythm, but I was determined not to turn back now. I held her head firmly; my fingers tangled in her hair, and began to move my hips, thrusting into her mouth with a steady pace.
Soon, our movements fell into sync – Desai pounding into her from behind while I claimed her mouth, our rhythms merging into a single, relentless force. My thrusts were less forceful compared to Desai’s powerful blows, but they were no less insistent. Meera’s body writhed between us, her moans muffled but unmistakable, her hands gripping my thighs for support.
 
Desai’s hands roamed her body, caressing her skin with a possessiveness that was impossible to ignore. A couple of times, he reached around to squeeze her breasts, his touch firm and demanding. It felt like he was determined to utilize this opportunity to its fullest, to push Meera beyond her own limits. He wasn’t just fucking her; he was unravelling her, pulling out a side of her she might not have even known existed.
It was as if he wanted to awaken a demon within her, to transform her into the sexual property he desired – a woman so consumed by pleasure and submission that I would never stand a chance of reclaiming her. His every touch, every thrust, was calculated to break down her inhibitions, to make her his in every way possible.
Meera’s body responded to both of us, her moans growing louder, her movements more desperate. She was caught between us, her pleasure building to a crescendo, and I could feel the tension in the room reaching its peak. Desai’s eyes met mine over her trembling form, and in that moment, I knew this wasn’t just about pleasure – it was about possession, about dominance, about ensuring that Meera would never be the same again.
And as I thrust into her mouth, my own release building, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Desai had wanted all along – to push her beyond her own understanding, to make her his in a way that was irreversible.
 
Desai stopped fucking her abruptly, pulling out with a deliberate slowness that left Meera gasping. He shifted his attention to her legs, kissing along her thighs with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just happened. Meera lay sideways, her body still trembling, as I continued to thrust into her mouth, my hands gripping her hair to keep her steady.
Desai’s voice broke through the heavy silence, low and teasing. “She’s making me jealous,” he said, his eyes flickering to mine. “I want to be you, Krish.”
 
I withdrew from Meera’s mouth, my breath ragged, and Desai immediately took my place. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss before pulling back just enough to speak.
“You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Then, without warning, he shoved his dick into her throat, his movements rough and demanding. I was stunned by the urgent manner in which he kissed her mouth, despite knowing that her mouth was stuffed by my dick moments ago. I could tell he even got the taste of my precum from her lips. He was completely overwhelmed by lust.
As Desai claimed her mouth, I moved behind her, taking his previous position. I guided myself into her pussy, and my dick slid into her wet hole. I knew the warmth inside her was not just her, but the feel of Desai's precum. My thrusts slow at first but quickly growing more urgent. Meera was lying sideways, her head held firmly by Desai, leaving her unable to object or resist. Her body responded instinctively, her moans muffled by Desai’s relentless pace.
To my surprise, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The combination of her warmth, the intensity of the moment, and the weight of everything we’d been through overwhelmed me. I came inside her, a heavy, almost liberating release that left me breathless. I didn’t make a sound, didn’t let on what had happened – I simply let the pleasure wash over me, my frustration and longing spilling out in that single, silent moment.
 
Desai, still fucking her mouth, seemed oblivious – or perhaps he simply didn’t care. His voice was low and possessive as he spoke between thrusts. “We’re going to be wild, together, Meera,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You and I – this is just the beginning.”
Meera’s body trembled between us, her moans growing louder, more desperate. She was completely at our mercy, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure and submission.
Meera suddenly let out a sharp, unrestrained moan, her body arching as she came. The waves of pleasure seemed to consume her, her trembling hands gripping the sheets as she rode it out. Desai noticed immediately, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “You’ve come, baby,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and possessiveness. “Wow.”
He pulled out of her mouth, his breath heavy, and began jerking himself furiously. Within moments, he shot a thick load onto her face, the warmth splattering across her skin. Some drops fell into her gasping mouth, and Desai’s voice was low and commanding as he said, “Swallow it, baby. Swallow the taste. This is my love. Swallow it.”
Meera, still catching her breath, obeyed instinctively, her tongue flicking out to taste him. The sight was both intimate and degrading, a stark reminder of the power Desai held over her. Once the cum bath ended, I pulled out of her, my own body spent and trembling. Desai took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he watched Meera with a satisfied smirk. I felt he was waiting for her to wipe clean her face so that he could kiss her again. Then I felt that he was just watching her cum-drenched face.
 
Meera sat up slowly with shaky movements and a face still glistening. Her eyes were wide with a mix of exhaustion and something deeper that felt like resignation or maybe acceptance. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing as the weight of what had just happened settled over us like a thick fog.
Meera sat up abruptly and I saw the shock on her face. Cum drops from her cheeks oozed down onto her breasts. She reached for her crumpled dress on the bed and quickly wiped her face with it. Then she looked at Desai and me alternately, her eyes suddenly burning with a fury that could have set the room ablaze.
 
Before I could say a word, she jumped out of the bed and nearly ran to the washroom. She didn’t bother to close the door, and soon the sound of the shower running filled the silence. I stood there frozen with a sinking feeling in my chest. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
 
Desai, however, seemed unfazed. He casually rubbed his dick, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “It’s a wonderful beginning, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone dripping with pride.
I stared at him, my voice trembling. “I think she didn’t like it.”
Desai’s grin faltered for a moment, but before he could respond, Meera stormed out of the washroom. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her body, her hair damp and her eyes blazing. Desai quickly turned his attention to her, his voice softening. “Come back, honey. We’re not done yet.”
“Not done?” Meera shouted, her voice shaking with anger. “But I’m done, Desai! I’m done with you!”
My heart sank as I heard her use his surname for the first time that night. The familiarity was gone, replaced by a cold, cutting formality.
She turned to me, her eyes narrowing. “Get dressed and get out of this room, Krish,” she yelled. At the same time, she picked up Desai’s clothes from the floor and hurled them at him. “Is this your so-called love, Desai?” her voice trembled with rage and hurt.
Desai was now stunned. The confidence that I saw on his face a moment ago was shattered. He opened his mouth to speak, but Meera cut him off.
“What are you staring at?” she shouted, pulling his arm and forcing him out of the bed. I couldn’t help but notice how Meera was completely ignorant of the fact that she was still naked, and her breasts were juggling as she moved around the room, getting physical. Me and Desai had somehow managed to pull up our pants. But it was the last thing to be mattered at the moment.
I had already moved out of the bed, and Meera pushed both of us out of the room, slamming the door behind us.
 
Everything was happening too fast. Behind the closed door, I heard Meera crying, loud and unrestrained. She cursed Desai, then herself, her voice breaking with every word. I knocked on the door, my voice pleading.
“Open the door, Meera. Please.”
Desai knocked too, his tone desperate. “Open the door, Meera. I can explain.”
After a moment, the door flew open. Meera stood there, now wrapped in a towel, her face streaked with tears. And she grabbed Desai's hand and placed something on it. It was the necklace.
“Leave,” she said to Desai, her voice cold.
And she walked past us, heading straight to our bedroom, with both of us trailing behind her like shadows.
 
In the bedroom, she went straight to her wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. She turned to us, her eyes blazing.
“I’m done with both of you fuckers,” she shouted again. “I’m done with this life with you. I’m done with the friendship with you, Susheel fucking Desai.”
She turned to me, her voice shaking with fury. “You fucker, Krish. You said you weren’t good for me because you’d make me fuck other men. You said this moron would be the one for me.” She pointed at Desai as she spoke; her words cutting like a knife. “And what did he just do? He watched me get fucked by you! He made himself a cuckold on the same night he came to propose to me! Can you imagine what I’m going to end up as? A woman with a queue of men outside her room, all waiting for their chance to fuck me. Is that what you want for me? Is that what you’ve gloriously chosen for me?”
Her voice broke, and she wiped her tears angrily. “Now I understand what Ananya told us. You have it in you, Susheel... This adventure shit – it’s in you. You may believe I’m the one for you, but I believe you’re no better than Krish. You’re two sides of the same coin. Equal in weight. Equal in value. Equal in your twisted fantasies. And I’m not going to be a victim of your games anymore. I want to end it, damn it! Oh my God, what have I become?”
Meera broke down, her sobs echoing through the room. Desai and I stood there, speechless, the weight of her words crushing us. The night had spiralled out of control, and there was no going back.
 
I knew I had gotten carried away, swept up in the heat of the moment, and had become an accomplice in fulfilling Desai’s fantasy. Unknowingly, I had let things spiral far beyond any semblance of sense or control. The fact that we were all heavily drunk when it happened offered no excuse – the booze had evaporated, leaving behind only the harsh reality of our actions.
 
Desai, however, tried to defend himself, his voice pleading.
“It happened by mistake, Meera. I got carried away. I’m sorry. Please, let me talk to you..”
Meera’s voice softened a little but it was because she was tired. “I got carried away too, you dumbass. But I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about the future, Desai.” She paused to finish wearing the top and skirt, and walked over to us.  “Believe me, Susheel. Please. You’ll end up getting carried away again and again. I’ve lived it already. I can look back now and see the signs – they were always there. You were always excited to play Krish in my bed. You were excited to be Krish. You were thrilled by the idea that he was a cuckold, a happy one. You always said we were a special couple, didn’t you? And today, you let him fuck me because you wanted to sell the idea that you too are okay with me being with another man. That’s it. You didn’t want me to think I’d become a chaste woman overnight. You wanted me to be the woman who could fuck other men and still be yours. Isn’t that what you want?”
Desai stammered, “I… I… didn’t mean any of it, Meera. I swear.”
But Meera wasn’t buying it. “You’re not realizing what you’ve done, Desai. You said you love me as a person. I want you to take a moment to think about what you’ve done. Just a minute of thinking would do. Think about your future. You’re not going to stop. Think about it and ask yourself if you’re going to stop. No, you won’t, Desai. You and I are not made for each other. Like Krish, you too deserve a woman who has the determination to say no to you when you come up with fantasies like this. If you don’t want such a partner, then go find someone else. I don’t want to be that partner.”
Her words were like a hammer, each one striking with precision and finality. As she went back to sit on the bed, Desai stood there in stunned silence, his usual confidence evaporating with time. He had no idea how to defend himself. Meera’s clarity in her allegations left had him speechless.
 
The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken regrets and the weight of irreversible decisions. I stood there, my own guilt gnawing at me, knowing I had played my part in this mess. Meera’s tears had dried, replaced by a steely determination that left no room for negotiation.
I stepped forward, my voice trembling as I apologized. “I’m sorry, Meera. I got carried away too. I didn’t have the wisdom to understand what I was doing. Maybe… maybe I was tired of the idea of you being with someone else. That’s why I chose him for you. But then… I couldn’t stop myself. It’s one thing that Desai allowed me to join him, but I was the one who took the opportunity. Like I was waiting for it. I know it doesn’t make sense now, but I’m just being honest.”
Meera’s eyes turned to me coldly. “I’m moving out of your life, Krish,” she said. “Just like you wanted.” She got up and walked closer, her presence commanding, and both Desai and I instinctively stepped back. “Get out of this room. Now.”
 
Desai and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us argued. We moved toward the door, our steps heavy with guilt and regret. Meera followed us, her gaze unwavering, and pushed us out of the bedroom before slamming the door shut. The sound echoed through the house, a final, deafening punctuation to the night’s chaos.
 
But then, just as quickly, the door reopened. Meera stood there.
“I’m leaving in the morning, Krish,” she said, her voice firm. “Don’t try to come after me.” With that, she slammed the door again.
 
Desai and I stood in the hall, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on us. Desai broke the silence first, his voice hollow.
“I messed it up. Big time.”
He reached for the glass on the table, but kept it back as he found it was empty. He grabbed the rum bottle and poured some into the glass. But he didn’t drink it. Instead, he held the glass in his hand, staring at the liquid as if it held some kind of answer. After a long moment, he placed it back on the table, untouched.
 
The house was silent except ticking sound of the wall clock. Desai and I stood there, two men brought low by their own recklessness.
Desai leaned against the wall, his voice hollow yet eerily calm. “Perhaps Meera is right, Krish.” He paused, staring at the floor. “She opened my eyes – again. All these fantasies, the kinks, the dominance… they twisted me into something I didn’t recognize.” He laughed bitterly. “That night I let my friend fuck Ananya… I was thrilled. I treated her like property, like I owned her enough to loan her out. Watching her with him… it wasn’t jealousy. It was power. And tonight?” He glanced at Meera’s closed door. “When I saw her dancing with you, I wasn’t jealous of you. I wanted to be you – Krish, the cuckold, the man who gets off on his wife’s pleasure with others. Pathetic, right?”
His words were sharp and self-loathing. “That wedding night, after you left… she came to my room. I am not sure if she has told you about it… but I think there’s no point in not talking about it. That night we had sex. During sex I was so excited from the effect of having watched her dancing with you at the wedding that I asked Meera to pretend like I was you. Not because I wanted her love – because I wanted to be the man she’d return to, even after fucking someone like me. Meera saw through it. She always does.” Desai’s voice softened. I could see he was broken from inside. As much as I was. “She’s right. I’d ruin her. Just like I ruined Ananya. For me, this is a game – the thrill of control, the rush of sharing. But for her? It’s hell. You know that hell. I can’t drag her into it again.”
He turned to me, “Loving her means letting her go. You tried to protect her by leaving. I have to do the same. Because if she stays… I’ll break her. And I can’t live with that.”
Desai shook his head and again knocked on Meera’s door, “Meera… I understand. I’m sorry.” His voice was trembling.
 
The door opened after a pause. Meera stood there, her face stripped of makeup and dried tears. She looked exhausted. “Go to sleep, Desai, Call it a day, please.” she said softly, no anger left in her voice.
Desai opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. “Sleep. We’re done.”
But she did not close the door. She waited.
Desai hesitated, and then nodded at her. He turned to nod at me too, and then proceeded to the other bedroom.
 
I stayed there, not knowing what to do. The only thing that held me together was that I was perhaps I was ready for worst already. But I wasn’t devoid of weight of guilt. Meera’s gaze turned to me, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she closed the door.
 
I slowly returned to the room. I looked at the bed, it was not much of a mess that I used to witness in the past after Desai and Meera's love making. But psychologically, the whole room was a mess. I stared at the bed for some time and then returned to the hall. I settled into the couch to call it a day, finally, though having no idea about what was about to follow in the morning.
 
When I woke up, the house felt different – emptier, quieter. Meera was already in the living room, her bag packed and waiting by the door. She stood there, her face calm but resolute, as if she had already made peace with her decision.
“I’m moving out,” she said, her voice steady but soft.
I sat up, my head still heavy from the night before. “Meera, I only wanted you to have a better life,” I said, my voice cracking. “But it all went so wrong. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. “I want to forgive you, Krish,” she said after a moment. “Because you helped me see Desai’s true colours. But I’m still angry – about everything else.”
Desai walked in then, and he looked at Meera with a sense of calmness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Meera,” he said quietly. “I didn’t recognize the change in me. I might die single, but I won’t cross your path ever again.”
Meera nodded, her expression softening just a little.
“Thank you, Desai,” she said. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Desai turned to me next, “Krish, I owe you an apology too,” he said. “Even though I didn’t get Meera in the end, I’ll always be inspired by the sacrifice you made for her. My promise to you remains the same for the rest of my life. Make a wish, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”
I shook my head. “You understanding what Meera said… it shows you’ve truly changed. I got carried away last night too, and it helped me see the danger of being in Meera’s life. As much as I love her, I need to let her live a peaceful life.” And I turned to Meera, “I think not you, it should be me, moving out of this house.”
“No, Krish,” Meera said quickly. “I know you volunteered to move out of my life. But I’m the one who needs to go. I’ve decided to move to Alpine Heights.”
 
She had made her final decision. She called a cab, and within minutes, it was waiting outside. She picked up her bag and turned to us one last time.
“Take care of yourselves,” she said coldly.
And then she was gone.
 
I sat on the couch, not knowing what to talk to Desai.
He stood there in silence for a long moment. And then he spoke.
“Meera has opened my eyes,” Desai told me, staring at the floor as he continued. “I never saw Ananya for a reason, Krish. Because it was me who made her sleep with my friend. My friend wanted to sleep with her, and I promised him that I would let him. And I did. I thought Ananya would enjoy it. She did, to some extent. But I’m sure she regretted it. That thought kept me from meeting her afterward.
Samarth, her husband, never enjoyed the feeling of being cuckolded. You and Meera were different. And I saw that as one of the many qualities that made Meera special. The bond you two had—I wanted that too. If she were to join me, I know I would have made her sleep with men of my choosing. And she wouldn’t regret it. I wouldn’t want her to regret it—that’s the point.”
I recalled his words again.
“I don’t know if you remember this, but you once told me that a cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she’s been fucked by another man,” I said. “Looks like you sold me an idea but ended up buying it for yourself too.”
Desai shook his head. “I don’t know when this happened, Krish. I have become you. Meera was right.”
The silence prevailed between us and finally it was him who broke it. “I should go too,” he said, pulling out his phone to call a cab.
 
We didn’t say much as we waited for his ride. When it arrived, he turned to me, his hand extended. “Take care, Krish,” he said.
I shook his hand, nodding. “You too, Desai.”
I was not sure where he was heading. Shimoga. Mumbai. Or anywhere else. I didn’t care.
 
I sat in silence in my house and I kept reminding myself one thing. Meera was right. There was nothing debatable about her decision.
I spent the rest of the day alone, the house eerily quiet without Meera’s presence. The silence gave me space to think, to reflect on everything that had happened. Strangely, I felt calm. Perhaps I thought the worst was over.
 
Though Meera’s outburst had felt like hell in the moment, I realized it was necessary. It was the breaking point we all needed to finally see the truth about ourselves. Meera, Desai, and I – we had all been chasing something, trying to fit into roles we thought we were supposed to play. But the last night had stripped away the illusions. We had finally seen who we really were.
I sat by the window, staring outside to the sky, and let my thoughts wander. No matter how hard you try to learn about yourself, nothing can beat the lessons life teaches you. My life had been filled with experiments and experiences – some thrilling, some painful – all in the pursuit of understanding myself and Meera. But in the end, it wasn’t the experiments that taught me the truth. It was life itself.
I am a cuckold. There’s no denying it. It’s a part of me, a characteristic that has shaped so much of my life. But now, it’s time to put that part of me to sleep. I’ve lived that life. I’ve felt its highs and its crushing lows. And now, I’ve come to the end of it.
The last time Meera left me, I was consumed by a sense of loss. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped away, leaving behind a void I didn’t know how to fill. But this time was different. This time, there was peace. Meera was at peace with her decision. Desai was at peace with his. And, for the first time in a long time, I was at peace too.
I realized that love doesn’t always mean holding on. Sometimes, it means letting go – letting the people you care about find their own paths, even if it means walking away from yours. Meera deserved a life free from the chaos I had brought into it. Desai deserved a chance to grow, to become the man he was meant to be. And I? I deserved the chance to start over, to find a new version of myself – one that wasn’t defined by the fantasies of the past.
 
The days after the anniversary were calm, almost unnervingly so. I needed to move on and find a reason to help me move on. I googled a few pilgrimage spots away from Pune and decided on Varanasi. After booking a ticket on the earliest available flight, I packed a small bag. I chose not to bring my phone. The last call I made was to Nidhi.
I told her that I was taking a few weeks off for a long journey. I wouldn’t be available until I returned, but I didn’t know when. “Until then, please go and sit in my chair.”
Nidhi asked about Meera. I said she’s fine.
Nidhi asked if Meera would be there to manage the firm. I said she would be busy with her own work.
"That's why I said you should take care of it. I know you can do it, Nidhi."
Just as I was about to end the conversation, Nidhi stopped me. "Krish...Krish..."
"Yes?"
“You said you won’t be available for long. Can we meet before you go? I mean…”
Nidhi’s beautiful face and the affection she had for me came to my mind.
“No, Nidhi. That’s not needed. You’ll do well without me,” I said and ended the phone call.
 
I left my phone at home before heading to the airport. I didn’t need it. There were no messages to send, no apologies left unsaid – just the weight of my own thoughts and the open road or sky. I placed a note on my table, saying I would be away for a while – in case Meera thought about me and worried about my whereabouts.
That evening, I boarded the flight to Varanasi.
 
The city of Varanasi was full of noise. Temple bells kept ringing, and the air was filled with incense. I stayed in a small guesthouse near Assi Ghat and spent my days walking by the river. After a few days, I left for another ghat. I watched funerals and death rituals being held, with burning pyres in the river. I visited many temples, listening to prayers. I finally reached Kashi Vishwanath, and there I bowed my head – not to pray, but to let go. One evening, on a boat ride, an old boatman ran his fingers through his thick beard and said, “Everything burns here, sir; only the ashes remain.”
I kept roaming around the city. I did not find peace, but I felt something change inside me, and I felt like maybe that was enough.
One morning, I took a dip in the cold water of the Ganges. On the banks, I watched many sages with matted hair and deep eyes – both men and women – sitting in silence.
I wondered what they had left behind. Families? Regrets? Or just their very existence?
The thought compelled me to reflect on what I had come to leave behind.
Why did I push Meera away?
The question followed me like a shadow. I had told myself that it would give Meera a better life, freedom from the chaos I would never stop bringing into her life. But as I sat on the steps of Varanasi, watching devotees light lamps for the dead, I couldn’t help but question if I did it for Meera or for myself.
I wasn’t a man chasing spirituality. The remorse was going to hit me quietly, and the impact never seemed to quiet me.
Memories were returning. Meera's happy face in our happy times. Her laughter. Her busy hands in the kitchen. Her furious eyes when I refused to rethink my decision to separate.
I felt I was carrying a sense of sacrifice, and I felt I was wrong. It was cowardice. Maybe I was the sage who ran – not toward truth, but away from it.
One evening, an old monk sat beside me at a temple in Rishikesh. He didn’t speak, just offered a bowl of rice and lentils. As we ate, he pointed to a couple arguing near the river – a young man and woman, their voices and gestures frantic. The monk smiled. “Love is not a quiet river,” he said in Hindi. “It is the storm that shapes the mountains.”
I thought of Meera then – not as the woman I had lost, but as the storm I’d refused to endure.
 
I returned home after a month, my mind clearer but my heart still heavy. I turned on the phone but didn’t call Meera. I wanted to see her. I didn’t want to be denied over the phone. I drove myself to her apartment in Alpine Heights. When I reached Meera's place, I saw the house was locked, and suddenly, my head filled with fear. I thought of Desai. I wondered if he had come back for her and mended their differences. The thought felt like an ache.
I phoned Meera, but it went unanswered. I wondered if I should call Desai, but then decided to call Nidhi instead.
She asked me if I had returned. She was happy when I said yes. And she revealed that Meera had called her many times in the past few weeks, asking for any news about me.
I was sure Meera had something to tell me. And I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
My heart was already beating faster at the thought of it.
“I have some personal news to tell you, Krish,” Nidhi said. “I’m getting married.”
“Oh, really? That was quick!” I said, then added, “Congratulations, Nidhi!”
She revealed that Parvati had found a man for her through a matrimonial website.
“Matrimonial website? Don’t mind, but it feels kinda strange to me,” I said.
Nidhi laughed. “Even I am feeling the same. But somehow, it happened. I thought I shouldn’t make Mom worry about me. Apart from that, you know, I liked the boy.”
I could sense her happiness from her voice. She invited me to the engagement, scheduled for a month later.
 
As soon as the phone call ended, I heard a sound from behind.
“Krish!”
I turned, and Meera was standing there in a warm yellow gown. She looked as beautiful as ever. But her eyes were blazing, and before I could say a word, she stepped closer and slapped me.
“Where the fuck were you, Krish?” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“I was on a pilgrimage,” I said, rubbing my cheek. “I needed time to think.”
“Fuck your pilgrimage!” she snapped. “You could’ve at least taken your phone. Do you have any idea how much I’ve tried to reach you?”
“What happened?” I asked, my stomach twisting with dread.
She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hit me like a thunderbolt. I stared at her, stunned. “How?”
Meera stared back at me. “You don’t remember?”
 
The memory of the anniversary night flashed in my mind – the heat of the moment, the recklessness, the release. I had ejaculated inside her. I hadn’t thought about the consequences then, but now they were staring me in the face.
 
“I wanted to tell you first,” Meera said, her voice breaking. “Before anyone else.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “This is… incredible news, Meera. But I’m not sure what you think about it. Is it too late for us?”
She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m keeping it, Krish. I knew I was going to be pregnant from the first day. Because I love you, Krish. I’m not here to disrupt your peaceful life if that’s what you want. But I needed you to know. This is your child.”
Her words shattered the walls I’d built around my heart. “Meera,” I said, my voice trembling, “I’ve never stopped loving you. I never abandoned you. I pushed you away because I thought it would give you peace. But this… this changes everything.” My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. I went on, “You know… the idea of being a parent, of being parents together… we can do it, can’t we? It makes me want to embrace you again. Meera, be my love once more. I love you.”
Meera’s hands trembled as she cupped my face, her tears warm against my skin. “You idiot,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t get to decide what peace is for me. We decide. Together.”
 
Her words were delivered directly into my heart. And I could sense them unravelling something in me – a knot of guilt and fear I had been carrying for more than a month. I pulled Meera close, tucked my fingers deep into her hair, and pressed my lips to her forehead. I could smell the aroma of her shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured into her shoulder. “For everything.”
She leaned back for a moment. “You don’t get to run anymore, Krish. Not from me. And certainly not from this.” Her hand drifted to her stomach.
“I won’t,” I promised, and I kissed her. She opened her lips and welcomed me.
We stood just outside her door, kissing madly. We stopped as we heard a footstep. A woman in her forties had stepped out of her flat.
Meera smiled at her. “My husband.”
The woman smiled back at Meera, shyly.
“Come,” Meera invited me into her house.
As I entered, I quickly noticed that the whole house had been repainted. I stood there, watching it. It felt nothing like what I had seen last time. A whole new world. New furniture. Houseplants. Mats. Flower vases. It looked like a house full of life.
 
Meera turned to me, her eyes teasing. I dropped my bag on the floor and embraced her. Our lips met for quick sharing of warmth.
As the kiss ended, Meera smiled with a sigh of relief. “I thought I lost you, baby,” she whispered. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
The respite in her eyes told me she had never stopped loving me.
“I promise, baby.” The words flew from my heart.
She threw her arms around my neck. I lifted her, putting my arms around her butt, and hurriedly entered the bedroom. The room was painted in soft blue, replacing the old memories.
“Why the blue?” I asked.
She smiled. “It’s the colour of the sky after a storm. A never-lost hope for a new beginning.”
I saw love in her eyes. And I kissed her – slow and deliberate – a promise sealed without words. Then, I let her sit on the bed carefully. She knew my carefulness.
“I’m okay,” she said. That was how she welcomed me back into her bed.
I climbed onto the bed, and we made love slowly. As I pushed my dick into her, fucking her slowly and deliberately, her eyes remained on me, as if she didn’t want to lose me even for a moment.
As we lay spent on the bed, I asked her what she would have done if I hadn’t come back.
“I would have still kept the baby,” she said readily.
“And Desai?” I asked again.
“Who’s that?” Meera asked with a smile.
 
In the weeks that followed, we didn’t speak of Desai or the past. And he didn’t contact us. But one day, I decided to call him and share the news of Meera's pregnancy. He congratulated me. And he said he meant it.
We didn’t speak much, but from the way he sounded, I felt he was at peace. I was sure he would have felt the same about me.
 
One day, I got a call from Maithrei. She wanted to discuss providing security services for her new apartment building in the city. She said she had been too busy with it to get in touch with me until she really needed me. I promised that we could work it out. I said sending her manager to my office would do.
When I revealed that Meera was pregnant, she congratulated me.
“New responsibility. New Krish?” she asked.
I waited for a moment and then said, “Yes.”
 
One evening, as we sat on the balcony floor, Meera asked me about the gods in the temples of Varanasi. I tried to recollect, but I couldn’t answer.
Meera stared at me with suspicion.
“Did you really go there and spend a month?”
I gave her a blank look and rolled my eyes with a sheepish smile.
“To be honest,” I said, “I hardly thought about anything other than you the whole month.”
“I can tell that.”
Meera laughed, and then wrapped my arm around her. We watched the sunset as she leaned her head against my shoulder.
“Krish,” she asked, “do you think we’ll mess it up again?”
I intertwined my fingers with hers, our palms pressed together like a bond.
“Probably,” I said, looking into her eyes. “But we’ll fix it. Together.”
Meera took my hand and placed it on her belly under her top. I thought she was trying to make me feel the baby kicking.
“The movements start after four months, baby,” I said. “I Googled it.”
“So you’re curious about it,” Meera smiled. “As curious as I am.”
I smiled. “Yes.”
Some stories end. Ours simply turned the page.
 

====THE END====

[krish_999]

First of all, I would like to thank all the dear members for appreciating my story and showering it with your thoughtful comments. Now that the story has ended, everything I intended to convey through it has been shared from my end. After posting the final chapter, I can't express how relieved I feel. I am currently going through a detox and can simply sit idly, do nothing, and think of anything.

But you know, before I could enjoy my much-needed break, I came down with a fever. I was about to write this comment immediately after finishing the story, but the fever drained that energy. I’m feeling better now and finally ready to write something here.

I had previously hinted at giving an epilogue, but I don’t think it’s needed now. Essentially, the epilogue was about Krish waiting outside the operating theater while Meera was giving birth. It would have included some of Krish’s thoughts and reflections on his life after reuniting with Meera. The final moment would have been a nurse coming out of the OT to tell Krish that his wife had delivered a baby. However, I couldn't write this part because I was indecisive about the baby's gender, so I decided not to include it.
So I've decided not to write an epilogue, as I don’t think it’s necessary. The story has come to an end, and an epilogue like that wouldn't add anything new, other than providing a conclusion, which I believe has already been achieved.

Regarding the story, many readers had various doubts, but I’d like to leave it up to you. I mean, I shared Krish’s version of his life, but it could be very different from Meera’s perspective. Even Krish has to guess a lot of things, imagine, and connect the dots. It's similar to how we experience life, isn’t it? We rely on the visuals we have and the words others give us. That’s the essence of writing a story from one person’s point of view. There’s no opportunity to present Meera’s version because, as a writer, I don’t know it, and Krish doesn’t have access to it as a character. So, just like him, readers too have the right to guess and imagine the other side. As a writer, I’m happy with whatever you choose to imagine about this story.

Regarding the climax, I’d like to clarify a few things. As RCF mentioned, this exact ending was in my mind when I decided to rewrite it. I had been building towards it from chapter 41. However, I didn’t intend to turn Desai into a completely cuckold character. It just unfolded that way without him realizing it. In my imagination, Desai loved Meera and had changed into a man who secretly wished he had her. As he observed Krish and Meera’s life together, he unknowingly became open to the idea of bringing Krish into his bedroom, not fully understanding the gravity of his transformation. He only realized this when Meera spoke about it, and it became clear to him that he had changed - becoming like Krish. From that point forward, Desai accepted that he couldn’t provide a different future for Meera, and that’s why he surrendered. In this version, Desai cannot be defeated by anyone except himself.

However, I haven’t shared much of his internal thought process because, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t want to delve too deeply into what’s in his mind. I could have written it as words spoken by him, but Krish and Meera might not fully believe it. Similarly, readers are free to interpret it differently - they might think he’s lying and will return to claim Meera. You all have the freedom to imagine that part however you wish.

Many readers have shared their thoughts and analyses, and I must say, these discussions have helped me stay immersed in the world of Krish and Meera. It was tough to remain in their world for so long, but your insights kept me focused. I believe that's the most beautiful aspect of writing in a forum like this. There have been times when I've gone back to read earlier parts of my story on this site and wondered how I managed to write them that way. After stepping away from that world, it feels almost like a miracle to me.

I’ve seen many comments about how I leave readers eager to read the next chapter, finishing one and wanting more. I’ve read a lot of Sidney Sheldon novels, and I think they’ve helped me pick up a few tricks for keeping readers hooked. My vocabulary has also improved, thanks to the practice. I think many readers here have also benefitted from writing long analyses of this story. Being able to put your thoughts into writing is a skill, and many readers have shared analyses that are almost as long as the chapters themselves. The pleasure of reading has only increased because of those comments.

Regarding the future of my writing in this forum, I won’t be writing a part four until I change my current career. It’s tough to stay in this world for an extended period. One reader mentioned how much you have to sacrifice in your personal and social life to dedicate time here, and that’s true. But it’s not just true for me - it's true for all those who have been following this story for so long. So, when I write something next, it’s going to be more like my previous short story, "A Chapter of Nightmare" - less than ten chapters.

I had previously mentioned writing a sequel to "The Accident", and I think that will be my next project. It will be a romance.

I also plan to write a story about seducing a neighbor. However, more than the sex aspect, the focus will be on how the man seduces a tough, committed woman. I just hope people don’t get overly motivated and decide to try seducing their neighbors after reading my story! Lol.

I took a long break before sharing my thoughts here, so my apologies for the delay. But it was something I was going to do. I needed to thank you all.

Once again, my heartfelt gratitude to all the readers for encouraging me.

Keep reading. Keep posting.
Love. Krish.

[krish_999]

Hello sir how r you?
We all well known that you are very busy. But at least sir say something whenever you will be free??

I am fine bro. Thanks. And I am taking my break. Thinking, thinking and thinking about my new story Lol. I will start writing only when I have the full draft.

[krish_999]

hello, Krish sir how are you? its since very long time we are not hearing any news from your side? is there everything be ok?
i am very curious. aatleast say hello and we will be very happy.

Mee too to eager about Krish what a marbles author no one near about you please say hello only for your miloins viewers

sir, have you think about to write a new story or think to continue this one.?
Because over-thinking is not a very good for writer of your caliber.
thanks...

Thanks for reaching out, guys. I hope you all are doing well and enjoying reading in this forum. Well I have no immediate plan of continue this story. But I'm currently working on a few small stories. I hope I'll be able to post it within a month.

[krish_999]

Any comments or announcement from your side , It's always give pleasure to all of us, 
 we all are eagerly waiting for your new story. And you said not immediate plan of continuing this story means you have given a thought to continue this epic saga in future

Of course I have given a thought about the next part. But I'm not going to pursue that idea because I know about the dedication and time it demands from me to write it. Right now I'm in a phase of transition in my career.  I won't be able to allocate so much time to write such a long story as of now. So part 4 of this story will not materialise in near future, I mean a couple of years. Remember it took me more than a year to complete each part of the story. 
So I'm doing what I think wouldn't derail my personal life: Small stories that will allow me to explore my creative side, hoping that the readers will have fun reading them. I have trust in you because through you only I have grown as a writer.

[krish_999]

Even if it is late the continuation of this story is better, because, all of a sudden story hasbeen closed abruptly what I feel, the conversation of last episode after erotic scene is little bit awkward and incomplete, the story has to be continued, Moreover all of sudden Meera surprising with love and his pregency was some what compromising, continution and reliesation is so quick?, and Meera's charector is not so weak I think

Dear I have given a conclusion to the story. Yes, it is possible to continue the story from there, as long as the characters are alive. But I have exhausted my energy to write on them. I'm choosing short stories because that would be manageable in my free time. There's no point in giving false hope. 
I'm presently working on three stories which will have five, seven, or maybe ten chapters maximum. I hope you will like it when it starts.

[krish_999]

 Dear Krish, 

It’s been almost two years since your last episode, and I genuinely don’t know how much longer we readers are supposed to wait. ?
You had mentioned that you would write the fourth part after completing the previous one, and ever since then, I’ve been checking and hoping for an update. At this point, I’ve honestly lost count of how many times I’ve read this story from the beginning. It has become one of those stories that I keep coming back to, hoping that one day I’ll finally see an update for Part 4.
I completely understand that writing takes time and that you may have your own reasons for the long gap. I’m not asking you to rush the story or put pressure on yourself. I’m just making a sincere request — please give us some update about Part 4.
Are you planning to start it? If yes, do you have any idea when you might begin writing it?
Even if you can’t give us an exact date, just knowing that Part 4 is still on your mind would make so many of us happy. After waiting this long, we just need a little hope that the story will continue. ?
Please, Krish, whenever you get the chance, let your readers know what’s happening with Part 4. There are still people here waiting for it after all this time.
Please start Part 4 soon. We’re still waiting. ?❤️

Hi all. 
Sorry for keeping you and other readers waiting for so long. Life has been very busy with me. Couldn't help. And the wait will have to continue till December so that I can have a progress to show. Yes, I'm writing it. The part 4 is coming. As per my calculations it will have 20-30 chapters. I'm aiming to start in January, with weekly updates like my previous story. 
Thank you all, for commenting and showing love and support to my story. 
Love. Krish.