My Cheating Husband's Boss (girl x girl | desi | 16+)

#14 - The Dream (+ Author's Note)

A/N:

Happy pride month, cuties! Thank you to all those of you who waited patiently, stuck around and did not give up on me ;') I love you all! Get ready to see a lot of Jiya + Meher in the upcoming parts. Keep pouring in your love! Hope everyone's doing well.

Next part is scheduled to release on 05/06/2024 (DD/MM/YYYY). Stay tuned, folks. See y'all :D

~ <3 ~

Her skin felt soft and her body was supple, starkly contrasting a man's thick and harsh one. She wasn't used to another woman's natural dewy glow. Or the moist softness of a woman's lips. A man's bony, angular body was all Jiya had ever known.

This felt different. This felt natural. This felt lovely.

This woman's hair smelled sweet and citrusy, and her body smelled of vanilla. Jiya felt warm ripples as the woman planted passionate kisses on her neck and slowly inched lower. She did not know who this woman was, but all she knew was that she wanted her.

"This is great," Jiya whispered.

"It's getting late." A familiar manly voice said.

Jiya snapped out of her slumber. Her face was so flushed and her entire body was shuddering. Her eyes were now wide open.

"Finally." Arin said, "I have been trying to wake you up since the past twenty minutes. And why the hell were you moaning so much like a bitch in heat?"

"I ... what?!"

Arin laughed hysterically, "You were definitely having a dream of us having sex!"

"Umm ..." Embarrassed would have been an understatement. This was beyond embarrassing. Jiya was having a questionable dream.

She was making love to a woman! What? Was she okay? Was she going insane?

Arin slipped his hand in Jiya's gown and cupped her breast, "I would have loved some of this right now but make me some chai first. Go!" He lightly nudged her shoulder.

She wanted to throw up the stomach acid threatening to rise to her mouth. She tried not to show the disgust on her face. Wordlessly, Jiya went to freshen up.

She went through the motions of washing her face and brushing her teeth, but her face bore a solemn expression. A look in the mirror hinted feelings of disgust and shame in her almond eyes. 

Jiya splashed cold water on her pale face several times, rubbing it harshly. As if trying to wash away her sins.

She was letting another woman touch her and lusting after her body. She wanted to be in her calming embrace. She wanted to feel the woman's alluring touch and hold her hand. She wanted sweet nothings to be whispered to her and plant loving kisses throughout her body.

And the worst part? She felt unwarrantedly shattered when her sapphic dream had come to an abrupt end. 

She checked her phone for any new messages. There were a few, but not a single one was from the person whose presence she craved. No new missed calls from Meher. It had been well over a week.

Jiya was getting obsessive about her husband's boss. What was wrong with her?!

The chai came to a solid boil and was on the brink of overflow when Jiya turned off the electric stove.

Arin entered the kitchen. He hummed the tune of an old Hindi song, puckering his lips to kiss Jiya's cheek. His rough, patchy stubble scratched her cheek and she squirmed as he kissed her cheek a couple of times.

"Fix my tie,"

As she strained the tea, her thoughts lingered on the dream she had had earlier. Jiya got goosebumps.

"Jiya! I said fix my tie."

"Yeah," 

Arin grew quiet. This wasn't the usual Jiya he had known for years. The meek, subservient woman he had married. She had become a shell of a person. Her eyes had dimmed with apathy and her soft, pinkish lips seemed a little more downturned.

Had she stopped caring?

Jiya looked impassive as she fixed Arin's tie. She was physically present there but her mind was elsewhere. Her thoughts lingered on Meher. Her husband's boss. 

"You look lifeless," Arin sneered, trying to gain a reaction out of his wife, like he always did. Picking at her gave him joy.

"How has Meher been? Is her arm okay?" Jiya had completely ignored his comment, and it bothered Arin.

"I think so, the cast is sill there but she attends daily,"

"And her girlfriend?"

"Payal? That fake blonde whore? No I haven't seen her in quite a while."

What? He hadn't seen her?

"Anyway, Jiya. I would be back home late tonight. I have some important work." Arin grasped the cup of steaming hot chai from his wife. 

The seed of suspicion had sprouted. If Arin was indeed being unfaithful to her and lying through his teeth about it, he was probably planning to meet his mistress tonight.

She was going to follow him, Jiya decided. It was time.

* * * 

Jiya was fully determined to go to her husband's office and track him the exact moment he had clocked out. But instead of going to the bustling heart of the city where the glass building of his workplace was situated, she found herself in an autorickshaw carrying her further away from the city.

Soon, low hills rolled into view and a cool breeze hit her face. The sky was growing darker. The unknown lurked beyond this point. There was no going back.

The open vastness of the rugged terrain had transformed into a levelled ground. Amidst the neatly manicured fresh lawn was a pebbled path that led to a mansion. It was magnificent, royal and airy.

Lamps stood on each side and illuminated the pebbled path. After identifying herself to the security guard, she walked to the front door. Her eyes took in the grand enormity of the place and then she braced herself to ring the doorbell.

But before she could press it, someone had already opened the main door.

Jiya's breath was stuck in her throat and her cheeks had turned three shades redder as she registered the view in front of her.

Meher looked handsome. Like, she never thought she would use this word to describe a woman, but it was too befitting. Her tousled hair which seemed wet. Her piercing bluish (weren't they grey the last time they'd made eye contact?) eyes, the sculpted bridge of her nose, her supple lips ... Jiya found it hard to look away. Meher was wearing a simple black t-shirt, accentuating her toned body.

"Jiya. Come in," Meher said softly. Jiya tried incredibly hard to gauge what Meher felt as she saw her. Meher's indecipherable, dreamy eyes gave her no clue.

"Thanks," Jiya was a blushing mess as she looked down and stepped into the house. Instead of snooping on her husband, here she was. 

She couldn't stay away. Meher was magnetic.

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