Raj To Rani

Raj was twenty-four and too pretty for the staffroom.

He worked as the junior art teacher at St. Mary's, slim wrists, hair falling over his forehead, walking like he was apologizing for his own shoulders. Vidhya, thirty-two, senior English teacher, spotted it on day one.

"You sit like a good girl, Raj," she said loud enough for the peon to hear.

Raj went red to his ears. "Ma'am, please."

"Please what? Please don't notice?" Vidhya laughed and circled him. "Look at those eyes. Eyeliner would suit you more than me."

After last bell she locked the art room door and pulled a bag from under her desk. A maroon saree with gold border, a black blouse, a padded bra, red bangles.

"I brought this for my cousin. But I want to see it on you," she said. "If you say no, I walk out."

Raj stared at the cloth. His hands shook. "People will hear."

"No one is left. Change."

He stripped behind the easel. White shirt, trousers, plain white underwear. His chest was smooth, nipples small and brown, thighs soft and hairless. Vidhya stepped closer and hooked a finger in his underwear elastic.

"Take this off too. Rani doesn't wear men's things."

He stepped out naked. His cock was half-hard already, curving up, leaking at the tip. Vidhya saw it and smiled, not cruel now.

"So you like this," she said. She wrapped the petticoat around his waist herself, her knuckles brushing his hip. Then the bra. She cupped his chest through the cups and pinched his nipples hard until he gasped.

"Ah— Vidhya ma'am—"

"Call me Vidhya when you're dressed like this."

She draped the saree, pleat by pleat, tucking it tight against his stomach, pulling the pallu low over his shoulder to show the bra strap. She put kajal on his eyes, red lipstick, a black bindi. She slid bangles up his arms.

Raj looked in the cracked mirror. A girl stared back.

"Rani," Vidhya whispered in his ear, pressing behind him. Her hand slid under the petticoat and closed around his cock. She stroked him slow, thumb smearing the wetness over the head.

Rani moaned, hips pushing forward, bangles clinking. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

Vidhya bit his earlobe and pumped faster, her other hand squeezing his nipple through the blouse. His whole body trembled in the saree.

"Come for me, Rani. Let me see how a pretty girl comes."

He came in hot spurts across her fingers and the silk petticoat, crying out, knees buckling. Vidhya held him up and held her wet hand in front of his painted mouth.

"Lick it clean. Then tell me you want to come to school tomorrow like this."