[heygiwriter]

Chapter 14 - Permission


The call ended.

The sudden silence in the bedroom felt louder than the conversation that had just taken place. Tara slowly placed the phone back on the bedside table. The screen light faded, leaving only the weak streetlight coming through the curtains.
She turned to look at him.

Whatever she saw on Jeeva’s face made her pause. His eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling, but something in them had gone flat and cold. The easy breathing he had found only minutes earlier was gone. His chest rose and fell in short, controlled movements, as if he was deliberately stopping himself from saying the wrong thing.

Tara spoke carefully, almost gently.

“Jeeva… I need your permission to bring Sam home tomorrow.”
The words hit harder than the birthday wish.

For a few seconds Jeeva did not react. Then he let out a short, disbelieving breath through his nose.

“Why?”
“Tomorrow is his birthday.”
He finally turned his head on the pillow and looked at her. In the dim light her face looked calm, almost soft. That calmness irritated him more than if she had been nervous.

“It’s been barely a week,” he said, voice low. “Barely one week and you’re already inviting him into our house?”
“I just felt like cooking something for him. His family is away these days. You know that.”

“We have an agreement.” Jeeva’s voice tightened despite his effort to keep it steady. “We both agreed. When your partner is here, I will not be here. When my partner is here, you will not be here. That was clear.”
Tara stayed quiet for a moment, fingers lightly tracing the edge of the bedsheet.

“Then you spend some extra time with Ramya tomorrow evening,” she said. “Stay out a little longer. We’ll come early. I’ll cook for three people… but the special dishes will be for him. What do you say?”

Jeeva sat up slowly, resting his back against the headboard. The sheet slipped down to his waist. He ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s too early, Tara. This is moving too fast.”

“He’s trustworthy,” she replied. There was a quiet certainty in her tone that he had started to dislike. “He’s earned it.”
When Jeeva didn’t answer, she shifted closer, still lying on her side, looking up at him.

“Listen to me. All these days he has been picking me up after office. Every single evening. Not once — not even once — did he drop me at our gate. Because I told him I didn’t want to bring him here yet. He respected that.

Is that not enough for you?

Even if this experiment ends tomorrow, I honestly feel I’m gaining a real friendship. 
A good one. The kind that doesn’t come easily.”
Jeeva stared at the opposite wall.

Every argument that rose in his throat sounded like pure jealousy. He hated that. He hated that she was forcing him into a corner where saying “no” would make him look insecure, and saying “yes” felt like handing her over.
The silence stretched.

Finally he spoke, the words coming out rough.
“Plan simple dishes. Nothing too special. Cook early. And send him home early.

I don’t want to stay late at office tomorrow just so the two of you can have extra time here.”

Tara’s face changed instantly. The tension left her shoulders. 
A small, genuine smile appeared — the kind she used to give him when he agreed to something she really wanted.

She moved across the small space between them, wrapped both arms around his waist, and rested her head against his bare stomach.
“Thank you,” she whispered.

Jeeva looked down at her. His hand hovered in the air for a few seconds before it finally came to rest on her back. He did not stroke her hair. He did not pull her closer. He only kept his palm there, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her nightdress.

Outside, a two-wheeler passed and faded into the night.
Inside the room the birthday call still seemed to echo, mixed with the permission he had just given.

Tara’s breathing slowly evened out against him, but Jeeva remained awake, eyes open in the dark.

Tomorrow Sam Arya would sit in their living room.
Eat food cooked by his wife.
In his house.

And for the first time since the experiment began, Jeeva felt the clear, sharp fear that the rules they had written so carefully might not be strong enough to hold what was coming.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 15 - The Door


8:15 p.m.
Jeeva’s phone lit up in the dark car.

Tara:
He’s eating.
Almost nearing climax.
Will leave soon.
Wait outside until I text.
The word climax hit him harder than it should have.
He read the message twice. The logical part of his brain knew she meant the meal was almost over. The rest of his brain refused to accept the safer meaning.
He stayed in the car, engine off, eyes fixed on their floor.

Back in noon, he had remembered the small Wi-Fi camera still lying in his office drawer — the same one he had used to spy on Tara at work. He had meant to bring it home by noon itself and hide it somewhere in the living room. But his manager never left him free today. The realisation only made his mood worse.



Ten minutes passed. Fifteen.
No second message came.

8:30 p.m.
Patience snapped.
He called her.
The phone rang six times and went to voicemail.
He called again. Same result.
Something cold and sharp moved through his chest.
He got out of the car, walked into the building, and took the lift. When the doors opened on their floor he already knew he was breaking the agreement by entering early. He did it anyway.
The main door was not locked.
Jeeva stepped inside and closed it quietly behind him.
He could not see Sam or Tara. 

The living room looked ordinary at first glance.

Three plates on the dining table. One still had a little food left. Two glasses near the sink. The smell of biryani and spiced chicken hung in the air.
But his eyes refused to stay on the safe details.

The dining chairs were not pushed in properly. Two of them stood at odd angles, as if people had left them in a hurry. On the table itself, several vessels and the serving spoon had been shifted all the way to the far edge — the way things move when someone is pressed against the table and needs space.

Nothing was clear proof.

Everything could still be explained by a normal dinner.
Yet every small thing arranged itself into the same picture in his head.
He walked toward the bedroom.

The bed was neatly made. No clothes on the floor. No obvious signs.
But the bedside lamp was on, and one corner of the bedsheet was slightly pulled out, as though someone had sat there or lain down for a while and then tried to tidy it.

Then he heard the water.
The bathroom shower was running.
Jeeva stopped in the middle of the room.

Steam had already begun to seep under the door.
The sound of water hitting tiles filled the silence.

His mind moved faster than he could stop it.
What if the door opens and both of them step out?
What if Sam is still here?
What if the dinner, the shifted vessels on the table… were only the beginning?
Even if she is alone why she needs to bath now?

The water stopped.

A few seconds of complete silence followed.
Then the bathroom lock clicked.

The handle began to turn.
Jeeva stood frozen, eyes locked on the slowly opening door, every worst possibility he had tried to reject all evening now standing right in front of him, waiting to walk out.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 16 - Only Her


The bathroom door opened.
Only Tara stepped out.

She stood in the soft bedroom light wrapped in a light towel, hair dripping onto her shoulders, skin still flushed and warm from the shower. For a full second she simply stared at him, surprise clear in her eyes. Then the surprise shifted into mild annoyance.
“You came in early.”

Jeeva could not answer. The panic was still written across every part of him — the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his gaze kept darting behind her toward the bathroom, the shallow, uneven way he was breathing. His hands hung uselessly at his sides.
Tara’s expression changed as she read his face.

The annoyance drained away. What replaced it was something quieter, almost tired, mixed with a thin smile that did not reach her eyes.
“You really thought I would do it in our house… in the second week?”
She stepped aside and gave a small nod toward the open bathroom door.
“Go. Check.”
Jeeva didnt move, but she pulled him inside, past her on unsteady legs. The bathroom was empty. Steam still clung to the mirror. Only her clothes hung on the hook — the same dress she had worn for dinner. One towel. One pair of slippers. No second presence of any kind.

He stepped back out. The relief hit him so hard that his knees felt weak. He had to put a hand on the wall for a moment.
Tara watched him carefully, then reached out and took his hand. She guided him to the edge of the bed and pulled him down to sit beside her. Their shoulders touched. She did not move away.

“Do you still doubt me?” she asked, voice low.
“No.” The word came out rough. He swallowed. “But the hall… the dining table. All the vessels were pushed to one side. The chairs were left at strange angles. The bedsheet was pulled out—”

Tara let out a short, disbelieving laugh, then quickly composed herself.
“Sam left at 8:15, latest 8:18. After he went I felt sticky and oily from standing over the stove all evening and then sitting through that heavy dinner. I just wanted a quick shower before you came up. That is all.”

She leaned across him, picked up her phone from the bedside table, and unlocked it.
First she opened the messaging app and showed him a text she had typed but never sent:
He’s gone. You can come up.

Then she switched to the apartment gate application and played the visitor log. Clear as day: Sam Arya’s vehicle exited at 8:18 p.m.
Finally she opened WhatsApp and held the screen toward him.

Sam:
Thank you for dinner, Tara. Everything was really good.
Good night.
Time stamp: 8:21 p.m.

Jeeva read every word twice. The solid, time-stamped proof sank into him slowly, pushing the worst images back into the corners of his mind. His shoulders finally dropped.

Tara kept her eyes on his face. When she spoke again her voice had lost all playfulness. It was soft, and underneath the softness there was a clear thread of hurt.

“I’ve followed every single rule we wrote together. Every one. And you still walked in here looking like the world had ended.”
She shifted closer and rested her forehead against the side of his neck. He felt the warm dampness of her hair against his skin.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to see you like this.
Is this what cheating does to people? Is this the kind of trauma it leaves behind?”

Jeeva said, you did nothing wrong its me overthinking, 

A tear escaped before she could stop it. It ran down her cheek and fell against his collarbone. She wiped it away quickly with the back of her hand, but Jeeva had already felt it. In seven years of marriage he could count on one hand the times he had seen her cry. The sight left a strange, heavy pressure in his chest.

He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him. She allowed it, her body slowly relaxing into his.
“Sam only ate and talked,” she said into his shirt. “Nothing else happened.”

They stayed like that for a long time, the only sound the faint hum of the night outside the window.

---

Much later, after Jeeva’s breathing had finally evened into sleep, Tara remained awake.

She lay with her back to him, eyes open in the dark. The tears returned without permission — quiet, stubborn, sliding across the bridge of her nose and soaking into the pillow. She could not name the exact reason. Guilt for the look she had put on her husband’s face. Guilt for the experiment itself. Or something deeper that she was not ready to look at.

Minutes passed.
Her gaze drifted across the dark floor near the leg of the cot. Something small and square caught the faint light coming through the curtains.
A condom packet.

It must have slipped out earlier when she had moved her things.
Tara’s body went completely still.

She held her breath and listened. Jeeva’s breathing remained deep and steady. Slowly, carefully, she stretched out her hand, closed her fingers around the packet, and pulled it toward her. Without making a sound she pushed it far under the bed until it disappeared into the shadows.
Then she turned her face fully to the wall, drew her knees up slightly, and closed her eyes.

Sleep did not come.
In the darkness she kept seeing two images at the same time:
the broken, terrified expression on Jeeva’s face when she had stepped out of the bathroom…

and the small square packet now hidden under their bed.
Both stayed with her until the sky began to lighten.

[heygiwriter]

That's all for the day good night guys

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 17 – Five Kilometres Away [SAM POV]

Five kilometres from the apartment where Tara still lay awake, Sam Arya sat on the edge of his bed in the dark, cock half-hard against his thigh, mind replaying the night in slow, frustrated loops.

He could not sleep.
Not after coming that close.

Two weeks. That was all it had taken for the woman he had wanted to fuck for years to suddenly open the door herself.

He had watched Tara for a long time. Longer than he liked to admit. That face alone was enough — sharp, clean, unfairly beautiful. The kind of face that made a man hard just from standing near her in a meeting. Her body was quieter but no less dangerous: soft breasts that moved under her kurtas, a narrow waist, hips that filled her sarees in a way that stayed in a man’s mind long after she walked past. He had jerked off to the memory of her more times than he could count. Especially after the lift.

That evening months ago the crowd had pushed him forward. For a few long seconds his chest had crushed against her tits. He felt the soft give of them, the warmth of her body, the exact shape of her nipples through the thin fabric. He could have stepped back. He had not. He had stayed, letting the pressure continue until the doors opened. She had gone quiet after that day. Stopped unnecessary conversation. He had thought the chance was dead.

He was not desperate. His wife and kids lived in another state. Loneliness was real, but he had other women when he needed them — careful, hotel-room affairs that never reached his real life. He was a family man. He did not risk everything for ordinary sex. But Tara was different. She was the hard-to-get kind. The kind that made the hunger sharper. Taking a woman who had kept every door shut for years felt like a real conquest.




But it happened like a miracle one day, two weeks back, its an approach from Tara. 

he had walked into his cabin with a tablet and a soft question about a new design application. She sat closer than necessary. Her knee almost touched his. He showed her the shortcuts. She listened. When she left she smiled at him in the corridor the next morning. Then the morning after that. The smiles were small, almost private. They felt like invitations he had not earned.


He did not trust invitations that arrived too easily.

He tested her. When she asked him to accompany her to a financier — a story that already smelled wrong — he said yes, only to watch her face. The meeting never happened. Instead she suggested coffee “to thank him properly.” The first coffee was formal. The second was less so. By the fourth evening it had become routine: she finished her work, he finished his, they left the building together, and the café table was already waiting. No one asked for the routine. It simply existed.



He did not trust how fast it moved. A woman like Tara did not suddenly start inviting a married colleague into her evenings without a reason. So he watched. He waited. He kept his hands to himself and let her make the next move.

Then came the birthday.
She called him at midnight. Her voice was warm, almost playful.
“You’re soon going to get what you’ve wished for a long time.”
He knew exactly what he had wished for.
Her under him. Legs open. That perfect face twisted while he fucked her.



When she asked that morning if he was going home for the birthday, he told her the truth: no. His family was away. That is when she invited him home for dinner. He said yes without hesitation.

In the car that evening, with her sitting beside him in a cream saree that moved every time the vehicle turned, the decision formed cleanly. He stopped at a medical shop under the excuse of buying medicine. Inside he took one single pack from a box of three, slid it into the front pocket of his jeans, and left the rest on the counter. Just in case luck decided to favour him.


The apartment was quiet when they arrived. No second pair of shoes at the door. No male voice. She went straight to the kitchen, already prepared — ready mixes, chicken bought on the way, rice steaming. He asked about her husband. She answered lightly that Jeeva would come soon, that he was delayed at the office. The words sat between them like a clock.

Hours passed. The food was ready. Still no husband.

Sam ate slowly, watching her. Around 8:15 she checked her phone. That was when the idea hit him clean and hard. He reached for the hot-water jug, pretended to be careless, and let it tip. Hot water splashed across the table, across the front of her saree, across his shirt. Steam rose. The wet fabric clung to her blouse, outlining her breasts clearly, the dark line of cleavage visible where the saree had shifted.

His intent was simple use this scenaior, appear half naked before her, use this and make a move. 


She jumped back.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s too hot. I wasn’t careful.”

She looked down at herself. Then at him, “You should dry yourself. That’s the bedroom. I’ll bring a towel.”

Sam expected exactly the same 

He went in and closed the door. He stripped off the wet shirt and hung it on the chair. When she returned with the towel she stopped for half a second at the sight of his bare chest. He took the towel. Their fingers touched. She left.

He waited.

He removed his jeans as well. The condom pack fallen when the jeans came off; he did'nt see it yet. He stood there in only his briefs, cock already thickening from the possibility. He wanted her to come back. He wanted the door to open while he was like this. He wanted to see her face when she realised he was ready to fuck her right there on her marital bed if she gave the smallest sign.

Instead her voice came through the wood, raised and urgent.
“Sam — my husband will take five minutes to arrive. He always has the habit of taking a bath the moment he comes in. Don’t take too much time. Sorry.”

The words killed the moment cold.

He stood frozen, cock still half-hard, anger rising sharp in his chest. She had known exactly how close he was. She had shut it down deliberately. He dressed quickly. When he picked up the jeans the pocket was empty. The condom was gone — somewhere on the floor, under the bed, against the wall. He had no time to search. A soft knock sounded. He opened the door with his face controlled.

Outside, Tara had already shifted every vessel to one side of the table. The chairs stood at odd angles. The air still smelled of spice and hot water.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m sorry for the mess.”

He let his eyes drop once more to the wet front of her saree, to the clear shape of her breasts. She noticed. She immediately adjust the fabric.
“Goodbye, Sam. Sorry I could not treat you well. It’s all messy.”

“I have equal share in that,” he answered. Then he left telling dry yourself, dont catch cold.

In the car he sat for a full minute before starting the engine. The missing condom bothered him less than the speed with which she had closed the door on him. She knew what he wanted. She had felt the intention the moment he spilled the water. If she found the condom later and said nothing, that silence itself would mean she was willing to keep the door open.

He drove home, showered, and lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, cock still restless.
She knows I came prepared to fuck her, he thought. And she didn’t ask about the condom. That means either she is pretending not to see… or she is ready to let it happen next time.

He closed his eyes, already deciding he would push harder.

---

Morning at Tara's house


Jeeva was still in the bathroom when she knelt beside the bed and reached under it. Her fingers closed around the small square packet. She quickly decided to placed that in the box she usually hold it, but she don't remember taking one out of it and keep it ready — a quiet contingency in case the experiment ever went further than planned. But the colour was wrong. Same brand, different shade, a faint printed flavour she had never bought.


She stared at it.

The house had been cleaned thoroughly the previous morning after Jeeva left early. No one else had entered the bedroom except Sam, for those few minutes while he dried his shirt.

Her eyebrow rose once, slowly.

So he had walked into her house with a condom in his pocket. He had come ready to fuck her on her own bed if the chance appeared.

The realisation did not shock her as much as it should have. It settled instead like a quiet confirmation. The experiment had selected the right man. She wanted. Tara has her own secret, she wanted a right man for her intent, not sex. 

She pushed the foreign packet deeper under the bed, beside the one that belonged to her, and stood up before the bathroom door opened.
Both of them — five kilometres apart and in the same house — now knew exactly what the other intended.

The real test had only just begun.
Now Tara realise how dangerous the game is, she wanted to take control, before Sam smells it.

[heygiwriter]

appreciate your effort RCF but its tough to crack what Tara's doing is about :)

Only before climax you will know it :)

until then just ride with Tara, she will surprise you.

[heygiwriter]

If some one want to take this story forward and own it, im giving full permission. Also will share my original thoughts on actual story and its root