Adultery Knowing My Wife, Knowing Me as Well

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.

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.
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