Chapter 11: Lessons Beyond Books
The next morning, Shalini woke up with a rush of guilt tangled with a hot thrill. Malika's words still echoed in her mind: You deserve worship, Shalini.
As she washed her face, she looked at her reflection for a long time. A married woman, a teacher, a mother. But underneath all those labels — a woman. A woman who had been starving.
She chose a sky-blue kurta that was slightly tighter than she usually wore. As she adjusted the neckline, she saw a hint of cleavage and paused. A voice in her mind whispered Why not?
In school, she taught as usual, but the energy around her felt sharper, charged. During a grammar exercise, Ravi's eyes kept drifting to her chest, and Prayush's gaze tracked the curve of her waist whenever she moved.
Their worship thrilled her.
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After school, back at home, she freshened up for the evening coaching session. Today she picked a soft cotton kurti in white, thin enough to hint at her bra underneath if the light caught it. She told herself she was being silly. But she wore it anyway.
As she walked into her small study where she ran the coaching, Ravi and Prayush were already waiting. They looked nervous, but eager.
"Good evening, ma'am," they said in unison.
Shalini smiled softly. "Let's begin."
She sat cross-legged on the wooden chair, one slipper dangling off her toes. Her ankle, bare and delicate, gleamed with a tiny silver payal that tinkled whenever she shifted.
Ravi's gaze was nailed to her foot.
Shalini felt heat pool low in her belly, a flush spreading over her chest. She shifted slightly, letting the kurti ride up just an inch more over her thigh.
As she explained a math problem, she deliberately leaned forward so her neckline gaped, revealing the pale slope of her cleavage. Ravi looked like he might faint.
Prayush, for his part, seemed entranced by the faint, musky scent of her deodorant mixing with sweat. His eyes glazed over every time she raised her arm to point at the board, catching a glimpse of the soft skin of her underarm.
They were too young, too shy, too respectful to say or do anything. But their hunger practically burned in the air.
---
After they left that evening, Shalini went to her bedroom, locking the door. She leaned against it, trembling.
What am I doing?
She tried to scold herself, but her thighs were sticky with a warm ache that wouldn't go away.
She went to the mirror, studying the flush in her cheeks, the raw need in her eyes. She stripped off the kurti and stood in just her bra and petticoat, breathing hard.
She thought of Ravi on his knees, his lips pressing against her toes, worshipping them like a goddess. She thought of Prayush, burying his nose in her warm armpit, inhaling her scent with desperate devotion.
Her nipples hardened at the thought.
Unable to help herself, she slipped her hand between her thighs, rubbing in slow, teasing circles, biting her lip to hold back a cry.
Malika was right. I feel powerful.
She came in hard, silent waves, gripping the bed frame so tightly her knuckles went white.
---
The next day, she decided to push things a bit further. Malika's voice echoed in her head, Little by little, break free.
She chose a floral churidar suit with a deep scoop neck, skipping the dupatta altogether. She pinned up her hair with a single clip, letting the curve of her neck show freely.
The boys were nearly speechless when they arrived for coaching.
Shalini pretended nothing was out of the ordinary.
"Today we'll revise the essay," she said, crossing her legs slowly in front of them.
Prayush kept sneaking glances at the deep, shadowed valley between her breasts, while Ravi was nearly hypnotized by her exposed ankles.
At one point she reached to adjust the collar of her kurta, raising her arm high. She noticed Prayush inhaling sharply, his pupils blown wide, as if the very scent of her made him dizzy.
A shiver ran through her.
They're mine, she thought wickedly.
---
That night, Shalini couldn't sleep.
She ended up messaging Malika again.
Shalini: I feel like I'm leading them on. I'm scared.
Malika: You're teaching them lessons beyond books. You're teaching them desire.
Shalini: Is that…wrong?
Malika: Does it feel wrong when you touch yourself afterward?
A flush rose in Shalini's cheeks, shame mingling with pure need.
Shalini: No.
Malika: Then don't deny what you are. A goddess, baby. A goddess deserves worship.
Shalini set her phone down and fell back on her pillow, staring at the ceiling. Her heart thundered.
Am I really a goddess?
A strange, bold joy answered: Yes.
---
On Friday, she decided to test her hold over them. She wore a tight, sleeveless kurti with no dupatta. Her armpits, lightly powdered, were on full display when she raised her hands.
During a question-answer session, she bent forward to listen to Ravi's answer, letting the neckline of her kurti slip even lower. Ravi's voice shook, and he lost track of his words halfway through.
Shalini's thighs pressed together.
They want me so badly, she thought, and they don't even know how to take me.
A powerful, taboo pleasure made her almost giddy.
As they packed up to leave, Ravi's notebook slipped and fell near her chair. He reached to pick it up — and froze as his nose brushed against her foot.
Shalini didn't move, letting him stay there for a second, inhaling the faint, perfumed scent of her sandal. Ravi was trembling, flushed down to his neck.
A thrill of heat shot through her.
When he looked up, she smiled softly. "Careful," she said, her voice lower, huskier than she intended.
He stammered, nearly ran from the room.
Shalini's pulse hammered.
---
That night, after a cool shower, she sat on her bed in a fresh cotton nightgown. The fan blew gently over her damp skin, and she closed her eyes.
In her mind, she replayed every worshipful look, every shy glance, every moment of trembling awe those boys had given her.
She realized she had never felt more desired, more powerful, or more purely feminine in her entire life.
Lessons beyond books, she whispered to herself, smiling into the darkness.
A new hunger stirred in her belly, ready for whatever the next day might bring.
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