As she left the room, Zainab stepped in. She had been waiting outside. Her arms were crossed, jaw tight, eyes burning.
She marched straight to Arahan, and asked in a low voice, so the other girls wouldn't hear.
"You really did it," she hissed. "Proposed to her like some hero. Kissed her. Made her say yes. In front of the mirror, like a damn Bollywood scene. And she fell for it."
Arahan met her gaze calmly. "You were watching. Again."
Zainab's fists clenched. "I came to talk about the routine. And I saw everything. The sweet words. The kiss. Her nodding like she's been waiting for it. You're unbelievable."
Arahan stepped closer—slow, deliberate.
"Jealous, Zainab?"
She laughed once—sharp, bitter. "Jealous? Of your little fairy-tale with the class 3 teacher? Please."
But her voice cracked. Her hands shook. Her eyes kept flicking to his lips, his hands that had just held Priya.
Arahan tilted his head. "You keep coming back. Keep watching. Keep confronting me. If it's not jealousy… then what is it?"
Zainab swallowed hard. For a second her mask slipped, raw hurt, anger, desire all tangled.
Then she shoved him in the chest but didn't step away.
"Stay away from me," she whispered, voice breaking. "And enjoy your perfect little girlfriend."
Arahan didn't let Zainab pull away.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her from bolting out the door. The rehearsal room had emptied fast after the cheers died down; the ninth-grade girls had scattered with giggles and whispers, Priya had slipped back into the changing area to grab her things, and now it was just the two of them in the fading afternoon light.
Arahan tugged her back gently, turning her so she faced him again. Her eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed with that dangerous mix of fury and something she refused to name.
"I know you feel jealous," he said quietly, thumb brushing the inside of her wrist where her pulse hammered. "So let me properly love you."
Zainab's breath caught. She tried to yank her hand free, but it was half-hearted. "What are you going to do?" she asked, voice small and hesitant, the bravado gone.
"First, I am sorry for what I have done with you years ago. Second, I know, you hate me but love me. So let's erase the hate you have for me."
Zainab, hearing his apology, became a little shocked, she asked him again, "Did you really feel sorry."
Arahan nodded, "Yeah, I am ashamed of myself, that I prank with a beautiful flower like you." Arahan said, while caressing her cheek.
He glanced toward the corridor, empty. The last footsteps had faded. Arahan pulled out his phone, typed a short message without letting go of Zainab's wrist: "Can't drop you today. Something came up. Sorry. Tomorrow?"
Priya's reply came almost instantly:
"It's okay. Take care. Miss you already ❤️"
He pocketed the phone, then reached past Zainab and pushed the rehearsal-room door shut. The lock clicked softly.
Now the room was theirs.
He looked at her with an intense gaze, she also felt that he was scanning her, like she was standing in nude in front of him. But she doesn't feel this gaze is uncomfortable.
He looked at her and asked, "Will you forgive me? And give me a second chance?"
Zainab's chest rose and fell rapidly. Her school skirt was slightly rumpled from the earlier shove, her tie loosened, top button undone from the heat of the day. She looked up at him, but this time she had no anger inside her.
"Yes," After thinking sometimes, she murmured and nodded.
Hearing this Arahan became happy, "Thank you, Zainab, I love you." Saying that, his free hand came up to cup the side of her neck, thumb stroking along her jaw.
And put his lips on her. She slightly parted her mouth and allowed his tongue to enter inside her mouth.
He pulled her forward until her body pressed flush against his, her breasts crushed to his chest, his cock already thick and hard against her lower stomach through their clothes.
"Did you feel Zainab, he wants to love you, care for you, cherish you."
Zainab whimpered in a soft tone, "Please love me, cherish me."
Hearing her saying it, Arahan again tilted her chin up and kissed her.
Zainab melted with a muffled cry, kissing him back just as fiercely. Her nails dug into his shoulders; her hips rocked forward instinctively, grinding against the ridge in his trousers.
He groaned into her mouth, one hand sliding under her skirt to grip the bare skin of her thigh, hitching her leg around his waist. The new angle let him press harder between her legs, right against the damp cotton of her panties.
Zainab gasped, head falling back against the wall.
"Feel that?" he rasped, rocking slowly and deliberately. "You want it right."
"Please…give me," she whimpered, begging him to keep going।
Arahan slid his hand higher, fingers hooking into her panties and tugging them aside. She was soaked, hot, slick, swollen. He dragged two fingers along her slit, circling her clit once, slow.
Zainab jolted, thighs trembling. "Arahan—fuck—"
He kissed her again, swallowing the rest of her curse, while his fingers pushed inside her, curling deep. She was tight, clenching around him like she'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"You're dripping for me," he growled against her lips. "All that jealousy, all that anger… just you wanting this cock instead of watching someone else get it."
Zainab's hips bucked, chasing his fingers. "Yes, I want your cock inside me. I want you dance with me and grind me, and fuck me.".
He pumped slowly, thumb rubbing her clit in tight circles. "Say it again. Say you want me to fuck you right here. Say you've been jealous because you wanted to be the one bent over this desk, skirt up, panties around your ankles, taking every inch."
Zainab nodded, she wanted to take him inside immediately. "I… I want it. I want you. Please, just fuck me, Arahan, please—"
He didn't make her wait.
In one smooth motion he spun her around, bent her over the teacher's desk at the front of the room, papers scattering, props tumbling. He yanked her skirt up to her waist, shoved her panties down to her knees.
Zainab braced on her forearms, ass up, thighs shaking.
Arahan freed himself, thick, veined, leaking at the tip, and lined up. He rubbed the head along her soaked folds once, twice, then thrust in deep.
Zainab cried out, sharp, needy, back arching. Arahan paused the instant he felt the resistance, tight, unyielding, the unmistakable barrier of her virginity giving way only slightly under the pressure of his tip.
Zainab let out a sharp, choked whimper, fingers digging into the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles turned white.
He knew she was a virgin, and he liked breaking the virginity with his own tool, but with consent.
"Zainab," he murmured against her ear, voice low and careful, all the earlier roughness gone. "Breathe. Look at me."
Her eyes looked at him.
"You're a virgin," he said softly. "And I want to claim your virginity, but if you agree."
She bit her lip hard, nodding once, tiny and jerky. "Be gentle…"
"Of course, I am a good gentleman," Hearing this, without hesitation Arahan replied, and the he pushed inside, and in one stroke completely broke her virginity.
She whimpered in pain.
Arahan kissed the shell of her ear, slow and tender, while patting her head. "Good girl, tell me if you want to stop. At any second."
Zainab's breath hitched. "Don't… don't stop," she whispered, voice cracking. "I want this. I want you. Just… slow."
He exhaled through his nose, pressing another soft kiss to her temple.
"Okay, baby. Slow."
He stayed perfectly still inside her for a long moment, letting her adjust to the stretch, to the fullness, to the strange, burning ache of being opened for the first time.
His hand slid down between her thighs, fingers finding her clit again, gentle circles now, light and soothing, coaxing her body to relax and produce more slick to ease the way.
Zainab's whimpers slowly turned into soft, needy moans. Her hips twitched, small, experimental rocks back against him.
"That's it," he praised quietly, voice rough with restraint. "Let your body get used to me. You're doing so good."
When her breathing evened out and her inner walls fluttered less in panic and more in want. Arahan eased forward another careful inch, then another, until he was seated fully inside her, hips flush to her ass, every thick inch buried in tight, virgin heat.
Zainab gasped, head dropping forward, ponytail sliding over her shoulder. "Oh god… so full…"
Arahan groaned low in his throat, fighting the urge to thrust hard. He stayed buried to the hilt, rolling his hips in tiny, letting her feel the stretch without the brutal pace she'd begged for earlier.
His fingers never left her clit, slow, steady circles, matching the rhythm of his hips.
"Feel me?" he whispered. "All of me. Inside you. Only you right now."
Zainab nodded frantically, tears still slipping down her cheeks, but they weren't from pain anymore. "Yes… yes… Arahan…"
He started moving then, slow, deep, careful strokes. Pulling out halfway, then sliding back in with deliberate gentleness, letting her feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse. Each thrust pushed a little more slick from her, easing the way, turning the burn into something hot and addictive.
Zainab's moans grew louder, breathier. Her hips began to rock back to meet him—tentative at first, then bolder.
"Harder?" he asked, voice strained with control.
"A little… please…"
He gave her what she asked for, deeper, firmer. Long, measured strokes that bottomed out each time, his balls tapping softly against her clit.
His free hand slid up under her shirt, cupping one breast through her bra, thumb brushing her nipple in time with his thrusts.
Zainab's back arched, pushing her ass higher. "Arahan, oh fuck, I'm gonna—"
"Come for me," he rasped, fingers speeding up on her clit. "Come on my cock, princess. Let me feel you break for the first time."
She shattered with a broken cry, walls clamping down so hard around him he saw stars. Her thighs shook violently; her whole body convulsed as wave after wave ripped through her. Arahan kept thrusting, drawing it out until she was whimpering, oversensitive, boneless against the desk.
Only then did he let himself go.
A few more deep, careful strokes, then he buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural groan, pulsing thick ropes deep inside her untouched pussy, filling her completely.
He stayed inside her while they both caught their breath, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close, chest to her back.
Zainab's legs were trembling so badly he had to support most of her weight.
After a long minute he eased out slowly, both of them wincing at the sensation. A mix of her slick and his cum trickled down her inner thigh; a faint smear of blood mixed in, proof of what they'd just done.
Arahan turned her gently, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her forehead.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
Zainab nodded against his chest, still dazed, "Yeah… just… a lot."
He stroked her hair. "You were perfect. So fucking perfect."
She let out a shaky laugh. "I… I can't believe we just…"
"Believe it," he murmured, kissing her temple again. "And next time… we'll go even slower. Or faster. Whatever you want."
"Thanks," Zainab said, although she feels, it Arahan has benefited by fucking her. But still, she loved it, and especially, when he apologized to her.
She buried her face in his neck. He held her tighter. The room was silent except for their breathing.
Outside, the school was emptying.