Hello everyone, my name is Sandhya. I am a headmistress in a government school. I am 50 years old. Until about 2 years ago, my life was going very smoothly. My husband is a lawyer. I have one daughter
Like every other day, I got ready for school and took my scooter out. I saw it had a puncture. When I came outside, an auto was there. The moment I got in, I had no idea that this journey would completely change my life.
His name was Rahman. Twenty-eight years old. He had done B.Tech but couldn’t find a job, so he drove his father’s auto. I had taken his father’s auto many times before.
Since time was running out that day, his father called Rahman and asked him to drop me off at school. He dropped me off in just fifteen minutes.
I told him, “Come a bit early in the evening,” and also asked, “Can you get my scooter repaired?”
Then I went into school.
In the evening, he came exactly at the time I had said. While we were on our way, he spoke for the first time:
“Madam, instead of going on your scooter every day, why don’t you come in my auto every month?”
I said, “But petrol costs less for my vehicle compared to an auto. That’s why I use the scooter.”
He said, “Whatever amount you spend on your vehicle, I’ll take only that much.”
“Okay, if that’s the case, I have no problem,” I said. “Come from tomorrow onwards.” I went home.
From the next day onward, he came exactly when I called. Like that, going daily in the auto and talking to him, I got to know him. He said he went to the gym every day. He followed me on Instagram; I accepted. There were his gym workout videos.
I mostly wore Punjabi dress to school because it was comfortable. But one day the DEO was coming, so I wore a saree. The moment he saw me in it, he was stunned for a few seconds. That day, because of the inspection, I got late.
I messaged him, “I’ll come with another madam today.”
No reply.
By the time the inspection finished, it was 7:30 in the evening. The madam I had said I would come with had already left with her husband. When I came out, Rahman was waiting with the auto. I felt relieved and got in.
“Why did you come when I said not to? It’s so late,” I asked.
“You said it might get late. I thought what if you faced some problem, so I came,” he replied.
At that moment, I felt a lot of admiration for him. After reaching home, a WhatsApp message came from Rahman:
“You looked very beautiful in the saree today.”
I smiled, replied “Thanks,” and went to sleep.
Days passed like this. We were getting closer. One day again, I had to wear a saree. While sitting in the auto, I asked how I looked.
“Very beautiful,” he said. I felt very happy that day.
The next day, I couldn’t get up – fever and headache, I was completely down. He kept calling and calling, got worried, and came to my house. That was the first time he came upstairs.
After knocking for about fifteen minutes, I opened the door. I was very weak. At home, I normally wore a T-shirt and shorts. Seeing me like that, he was shocked, but seeing my condition…
He: What happened, Madam?
Me: I have a fever, Rahman.
He: Oh no… I should have called. I would have brought medicine.
Me: It’s okay. If I rest for two days, it will be fine.
He: Still, you sit in the hall. I’ll go and bring medicine.
He went and came back in ten minutes with medicine.
He: Did you eat anything?
Me: No.
He: At least coffee?
Me: No.
He: Wait.
He went to the kitchen, made coffee, and gave it to me. After I took the tablets, he told me to sleep, locked the door, and left. After an hour, he came back holding a bowl.
He: Madam, drink this.
Me: What is it?
He: Jowar porridge.
Me: Eww… I don’t like it.
He: Doesn’t matter. Drink it.
He made me drink it. Then he brought hot water and wiped my whole body. Seeing his caring nature, tears came to my eyes.
I didn’t notice it then, but while wiping me with hot water, his focus was mostly on my breasts and thighs. He rubbed my thighs more than necessary. He touched my breasts, pretending it was accidental. Even in that fever, I noticed his erection.
Like that, for two days, he took complete care of me, and I slowly recovered.
Even after that, while going to school, he used to ask if I had eaten, and during school hours, he would message every hour asking how I was feeling. I really liked his caring nature.
My husband lived in another town and rarely visited. My daughter had gotten a job and was in Delhi; she called once a week at most. So I really liked having someone care for me like this.
Our distance reduced. He started calling me “Sandhya” instead of “Madam.” The spare keys to my house were with him now. When I had the fever, I told him to keep them; when he tried to return them, I said, “Keep them with you.”
Every day while going to school, we talked a lot. In the evening he came home, drank coffee, and left. Since he had done B.Tech, sometimes after exams he helped me correct papers.
One Sunday, I thought he wouldn’t come, so I locked the door and went for a bath. He came, opened the door with the spare key, and sat in the hall. I came out wrapping just a towel without checking. My thighs were visible three-quarters of the way up; my breasts were half exposed. Both of us were shocked. He recovered first, said sorry, and left quickly.
I messaged and called later, but no reply. I thought, “Anyway… he would come tomorrow.”
At midnight, the doorbell rang. It was Rahman.
“What is this? Coming at this time? I gave you the key, so you can come whenever you feel like?” I showed fake anger.
He smiled and said, “Happy Birthday,” came inside, took a cake from the fridge, and made me cut it.
Tears came to my eyes. I cried for about half an hour and instinctively hugged him tightly. He hugged me back just as tightly. We stayed like that for ten minutes.
Then he kissed my forehead, then my lips. I can’t describe that feeling in words. While kissing, he put his hand on my waist and slowly pressed. When he was about to touch my breasts, my phone rang.
We came back to reality. My daughter called to wish me a happy birthday and said she was going to sleep.
He gave me a gift, wished me again, and left. When I opened it – a cream-colored saree, a matching sleeveless blouse, and a letter:
“Hello Sandhya! Happy Birthday. I didn’t know what gift to give, so I bought this saree. If you like it, please wear this saree tomorrow and come to the auto.”
There is more…
The next morning I wore my normal Punjabi dress as usual. His face became dull. I got into the auto and, looking at him with a smile, said, “You gave me a saree, but to stitch the blouse and wear it takes time. Didn’t you know?”
He stopped the auto, turned back, and asked, “Really?”
When I said yes, his face lit up. While going to school, I told him, “Come home in the evening. I’ll make biryani.”
In the evening, I told him, “Come at seven,” and went home.
I prepared everything and was waiting. At 7:30, he came. I opened the door wearing a transparent saree. He was shocked seeing me. I playfully pulled him inside.
I served him biryani. Nothing happened that time because my husband called. So I asked him to finish eating and leave, then went to my room to talk to my husband.
That night, he video-called. I was wearing a red sleeveless nightie.
Me: Why video call at this time? (in a husky voice)
He: Nothing, just feeling bored.
Me: Then what should I do to remove your boredom? (I adjusted the angle so my cleavage was visible)
He kept staring at the gap without speaking.
Me: What happened, ra?
He: Nothing, Madam…
Me: Then why are you staring without talking?
He: Abba… nothing, Madam – and he cut the call.
After ten minutes, the doorbell rang again. It was Rahman.
Me: What is this, coming at this time?
He: Just thought… instead of talking on the call, better to talk directly.
I sat leaning forward so my cleavage was clearly visible. He was swallowing saliva, and didn’t know what to say. I went closer and sat so it was even more visible. He got up and left. I laughed and went to sleep.
There is more…
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From here, our lives took a new turn. Every day after school, on weekends… our secret love story continues. My husband and daughter don’t know anything. But now I can’t imagine life without Rahman.