Chapter 31: A Hidden Guest

The next afternoon felt almost too quiet. A dusty heat shimmered through the windows of the coaching center, the air humming with a dangerous, heavy tension. Shalini was running a few minutes late — something about retouching her lipstick, re-tying her hair, wanting to look… perfect.

Today she had chosen a thin cotton kurti with a plunging neckline, no dupatta, the fabric hugging her like a second skin. Underneath, she wore a crimson lace bra that made her breasts sit high and proud, and she'd dared to pair it with simple leggings so sheer they left almost nothing hidden when she moved.

She felt electric as she walked down the hall, her heels clicking, carrying that mix of shame and power she was beginning to crave.

Unbeknownst to her, Ravi was already there, heart pounding. On a wild dare from Prayush, he'd crawled under her teacher's desk and was now hidden among the tangles of wires and broken files. The space was tight and dusty, but the smell of her perfume that lingered in the classroom drove him mad.

As Shalini swept in, her bangles chiming, Ravi held his breath. From his vantage point under the desk, he could see straight up to where her kurti ended — and the nearly transparent leggings outlining the curve of her thighs and the faint dark shadow of her panties.

He swallowed, feeling dizzy.

Shalini didn't even notice him, arranging her books, then perching on the desk's edge, crossing her legs so that the thin cotton fabric fell open around her thigh. Ravi's eyes widened, a tremor running through him.

She shifted, sighing, bending forward slightly to fix her sandals, giving him a clear, forbidden glimpse of cleavage as her neckline gaped.

He nearly whimpered.

"God," Shalini muttered to herself, oblivious, "these boys are turning me insane…"

She flipped her hair, and Ravi caught the warm scent of coconut oil and faint rose. The air around him grew thick, intoxicating, and he reached out without thinking, brushing the side of her ankle with trembling fingertips.

Shalini froze, spine going straight.

For a moment, she thought she'd imagined it — a phantom caress — but then she felt it again, a warm, shaky hand ghosting over her ankle, then gripping gently.

Her eyes went wide.

"Who…?" she hissed, glancing under the desk, her pulse exploding.

There, crouched like a guilty animal, Ravi looked up at her, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with desire.

"Madam," he stammered, "I… I just wanted to see…"

Her mouth fell open, torn between scolding him and the insane thrill of being worshipped.

"You little devil," she breathed. "Get out. Now."

But Ravi didn't move. He seemed hypnotized by the curve of her thighs framed above him.

"Please," he whispered, "let me stay. Let me… please."

Shalini felt a jolt go through her belly. She should push him away. She should throw him out.

Instead, wickedness took over.

"Touch me then," she commanded softly, voice trembling, "but only where I say."

He nodded desperately.

She uncrossed her legs, letting the thin leggings tighten around her skin, revealing the outline of her panties in the harsh classroom light.

"Kiss my ankle," she ordered.

Ravi leaned in, reverently pressing his lips to her ankle bone, sending shivers up her calf. His lips were so soft, so warm, so eager that Shalini felt a coil of molten heat in her stomach.

"Higher," she rasped.

He kissed up to her shin, tongue darting out to taste the salt of her skin.

Shalini bit her lip to keep from moaning, heat exploding between her thighs.

Her hand gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as Ravi, still hidden from view, slid his tongue teasingly under the hem of her leggings, just to the edge of her knee.

"That's enough," she gasped, pulling her foot away.

But Ravi's hands stayed on her calf, clinging, worshipful, eyes wide with raw devotion.

"Madam," he whispered, "please, don't stop me."

Shalini's breath caught, torn between fear and a deviant desire that thrilled her to the bone.

"Just for a minute," she allowed, voice like a drug, "no higher."

He obeyed, his tongue swirling over the inside of her knee, sending tremors up her thighs, while his hands massaged her calf like she was a goddess.

Shalini felt light-headed, trembling. The danger — the classroom door unlocked, the voices outside — made it all the more intoxicating.

Finally, she pulled away with a sharp gasp.

"Enough," she ordered, voice shaking. "Hide. Someone might come."

The bell rang, students filling the hall. Shalini sat rigid, pretending to arrange her books while Ravi, hidden, rested his cheek against her calf, breathing heavily, worshiping her in secret.

One of the girls entered, completely oblivious.

"Madam, the coordinator sent me to collect your report."

Shalini fought to keep her face calm, heat roaring in her veins.

"It's here," she croaked, handing it over, hoping to God the girl didn't notice her quivering.

As soon as the girl left, Shalini stood, looking down at Ravi.

"You will go home," she said, voice low and dangerous. "And you will think about what you did."

He nodded, eyes starstruck.

She let him slip out the side door, then collapsed into her chair, heartbeat slamming.

The taste of that moment — forbidden, filthy, addictive — left her dizzy.

Shalini knew she was sinking deeper every day. And she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

Not even a little.

The rest of the coaching session felt like a fever dream for Shalini. Ravi had quietly slipped away after their near-exposure, but she could feel his heat lingering against her skin, a phantom caress still curling around her ankle.

Classes went on, though she barely heard her own voice as she explained formulas and scolded half-interested boys. In the back of her mind, she kept replaying Ravi's tongue flicking her knee, the brazen worship in his eyes.

By the time the last student had trudged out, only Prayush and Ravi lingered behind, pretending to go over revisions. Shalini knew better; they weren't here for lessons anymore.

She let out a slow, deliberate sigh and leaned back in her chair, shifting so the fabric of her thin leggings pulled tight across her thighs. The slight transparency made even the lightest movements feel exposed.

"Are you both finished with your notes?" she asked in a teasing, husky tone.

Neither answered. Their eyes were locked on the curve of her hips, the outline of her red lace panties showing faintly through the leggings.

Shalini stood, smoothing the hem of her kurti down, then bending forward slightly, pretending to adjust the stack of exam papers. As she bent, the soft curve of her breasts dipped into view, the lace bra peeking from her neckline. She could practically feel their gazes burning into her skin.

She straightened again, pretending to be casual, and gathered the sides of her leggings at her waist. Slowly, with her thumb hooked just under the waistband, she tugged the leggings up, letting the fabric snap back tightly over her hips. The snugness of it made her breath catch — she had never felt so on display in her life.

Both Ravi and Prayush stared, practically panting.

"Madam," Prayush managed to croak, "the… the cloth is very tight…"

Shalini looked down, pretending to frown. "Oh? Does it look bad?"

"No!" Ravi blurted, eyes glazed. "It's… perfect, madam."

A wicked grin played on her lips. Slowly, she ran her hands down her hips, smoothing the stretched fabric, letting them admire every inch.

"Do you want me to adjust again?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

They nodded, breathless.

So she did it — she turned sideways, letting them see her profile, and hooked the waistband just slightly lower, revealing the faint edge of her lace underwear before pulling it back up with a satisfying snap.

Prayush swallowed so hard she could hear it.

"Ravi," she called softly, "come here."

He stumbled forward, red-faced, unable to look away from where the leggings clung to the roundness of her hips.

"Touch the side," she murmured, "like this."

She guided his shaking hand to rest on her waist, over the thin material. His fingers trembled as they traced the curve of her hip bone, feeling how soft she was under the stretched leggings.

Prayush watched, eyes wide with hunger.

"You too," she ordered, pointing at him.

He stepped forward, kneeling so that his face was at the level of her thighs. Carefully, worshipfully, he pressed his lips to the side of her knee through the thin cloth, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and rose-scented soap.

Shalini shuddered, heat coiling inside her belly.

Ravi, emboldened, leaned closer and planted a soft kiss just above her ankle, following the seam of the leggings with reverent lips.

"Madam," Prayush whispered, voice shaking, "please… may I taste again?"

Her mind screamed no, but her body burned with a yes she couldn't deny.

"Only for a second," she warned, voice low.

She lifted her foot slightly, letting Prayush cup it in both hands, kissing along the arch and then licking delicately, as if worshiping a holy relic. The wet warmth of his tongue sent lightning up her spine, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.

Then Ravi, bold, nuzzled the side of her calf, breathing hotly against her skin, before laying a trail of gentle kisses toward the inside of her knee.

Shalini couldn't help it — she gasped, legs trembling.

"Enough," she hissed, pulling away, heart slamming, cheeks flaming with guilt and desire.

They looked crushed, their eyes huge with frustration and need.

"I said enough," she repeated, adjusting her leggings one last time, feeling how they clung wetly to her heated skin.

"Go home," she commanded. "And don't you dare speak of this."

They nodded, trembling, worship written on their faces.

She let them go, breathing hard, then slumped into her chair. Her hands were still shaking as she pressed her palm to her racing heart.

God, what was she becoming?

Shalini ran her hands over the taut leggings again, still able to feel their tongues, their lips, the heat of their worship.

The line had blurred so completely now, she wasn't sure it even existed anymore. And as she looked down at her trembling hands, her mind went straight to Malika's promise — that there was even more waiting at her second house.

Her thighs clenched at the thought, desire eating away at her guilt.

Maybe she really did want to cross that final line.

Tomorrow, she promised herself, she'd decide.

Or maybe, she already had.