Adultery Knowing My Wife, Knowing Me as Well

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.
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