Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust
#81
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#82
The Next Morning at the Office 


Afrah stood outside Vishal’s office door, her heart pounding in her chest. She had barely slept the night before, her mind spinning with thoughts of her mother, Sohail, and most of all, Vishal. But now it was morning, and she had made a decision. It was time to take control of her life, to set boundaries.

*You can do this. Just go in there, say what you need to say. Stay calm, stay in control.* She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," came his smooth, familiar voice from inside.

Her hand tightened on the doorknob as she pushed it open. There he was, sitting behind his desk, his eyes lifting to meet hers with that same devilish smirk. That look. It was like he could see right through her, see her inner turmoil, and he was amused by it. 

*Bastard. Attractive, infuriating bastard.* Her pulse quickened, but she kept her face composed. *Control. You have to control this.*

Vishal leaned back in his chair, watching her with that teasing gleam in his eyes. "Afrah," he said, his voice low, almost purring. "What can I do for you this fine morning?"

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she clenched her fists at her sides, grounding herself. *Don’t let him get to you. Just say what you came to say.* 

"I’ll take the promotion," she said, her voice steady but firm. "But from now on, you have to be respectful towards me and be professional." She raised her chin slightly, meeting his gaze head-on. "I’m serious, Vishal."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, that smirk of his widened. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. "Of course," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "I will be very professional, Miss Fatima."

Her heart skipped a beat. *Miss Fatima.* He had never called her by her surname before, and the way he said it now was almost mocking, like a taunt. Like he was playing a game she wasn’t fully prepared for. Her stomach twisted, anger and something else—something darker—welling up inside her.

*God, why does he have to be like this? Why does he have to make everything a power play?* She wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop being so infuriating, but she swallowed the words down. *No, don’t let him see that he’s getting to you.*

She turned on her heel, keeping her back straight as she walked towards the door. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time, and it made her skin prickle with an uncomfortable heat. *Bastard. Attractive bastard. Why does he have to be so... so...*

Her hand was on the door, but her mind was already swirling. *Why did he say it like that? Miss Fatima. Like I’m some prim and proper collegeteacher. Like he’s mocking me for trying to stand up to him.* And the way he smiled, as if he knew exactly how to get under her skin.

She paused for a moment, her hand frozen on the doorknob. *What is it about him?* He was arrogant, manipulative, and yet... *Why does he make me feel like this? Why does it feel like there’s electricity in the air every time I’m around him?* 

It made no sense. She was angry—angry at him, angry at the situation—but beneath that anger, there was something else. Something she didn’t want to admit, even to herself. *He’s dangerous. Not just because of the way he acts, but because of the way he makes me feel.* 

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel that familiar, infuriating pull towards him. *Stop it. He’s your boss. He’s a playboy. You’ve seen him with those women.* The memory of him kissing that woman in the parking lot flashed in her mind, and for a moment, jealousy flared up, hot and sharp. *You’re just another game to him. Another conquest.*

With a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and stepped out of the office, closing the door behind her. But as she walked away, her thoughts continued to race. *Attractive bastard. Why can’t I just hate him like I should?* 

Even now, even after everything, part of her couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him touch her again. To feel that fire, that dangerous thrill that had ignited between them before.

But no. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of her thoughts. *No. This is business. This is about the promotion. About my career, my independence. Don’t let him distract you. Don’t let him win.* 

Still, as she walked away, her pulse refused to slow, and she knew that no matter how much she tried to push it down, that tension—between them, within herself—wasn’t going away anytime soon.







Next day :

**Scene: Afternoon Coffee

Afrah walked into the cozy café where Sumaira and Hina were already seated, chatting excitedly. She smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in the familiar environment. This was their little escape—an afternoon of shopping, coffee, and gossip, away from all the pressures of family, work, and relationships.

As she sat down, Sumaira gave her a hug, adjusting her  dress neatly afterward. "Afrah, it's been so long! How's life? Wedding planning must be crazy, huh?" Sumaira asked with a warm smile.

Hina, who was sipping her cappuccino, chimed in, "Don't even get me started on weddings! You know how it was for me; my saas was all over the place, always complaining about something. Afrah, I hope you're ready!"

Afrah laughed nervously, trying to keep her mind off the tension with her family and Sohail. "It's... fine," she said, but both her friends could sense the hesitation.

Sumaira leaned in, whispering, "Are you sure? I mean, we all know how things can change after marriage, especially when you're living with the in-laws. It's not easy, believe me." She glanced at Hina, who gave a knowing nod.

"I still can't get over how much my mother-in-law complains about everything," Hina added. "But enough about that, Afrah! What's new with you? Tell us everything!" Hina’s mischievous smile made it clear she was ready for some juicy updates.

Afrah took a deep breath, unsure how much to share. "Well, I’ve been offered a promotion at work," she said carefully.

Sumaira’s eyes widened. "A promotion? That's amazing! Are you going to take it?"

Afrah shrugged, hesitating. "I don’t know yet. Sohail’s not thrilled about it, and my family isn’t exactly supportive either."

"Typical," Hina muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Men just want us at home, don’t they? Like we can’t have a career and be a wife at the same time."

Sumaira nodded, .

Afrah laughed softly, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit envious. Both Sumaira and Hina were settled, managing their homes, kids, and marriages in ways that seemed so distant from her own chaotic life.

They jokes talks about college days etc.

The laughter from earlier faded into a comfortable silence, the trio sipping their coffees, their thoughts mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed beans. Hina glanced at Afrah, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

**Hina:** “You know, I was in Dubai, and let me tell you, those housewives are something else! I mean, they put our little our gossip to shame.”

**Sumaira:** *Leaning in eagerly* “Oh, do tell! What kind of scandalous antics are we talking about?”

Hina smirked, her eyes dancing as she recalled the stories. “Well, there was this one woman who was flaunting her extravagant lifestyle, throwing parties that could rival any Bollywood wedding. But the real kicker? I heard her husband has no clue she’s been sneaking out to meet her old college flame!”

Afrah raised her eyebrows, intrigued. “No way! How does she manage that?”

Hina: “She plays the perfect little housewife during the day, and at night? She’s out painting the town red! I swear, if her husband knew, he’d have a heart attack!” *She laughed, leaning back as if enjoying the chaos in her imagination.*

Sumaira:Teasingly nudging Hina “And here you are, acting all prim and proper in your hïj@b. Remember when you were with Shekhar? You were a total wild child! I still can’t believe you used to sneak out of classroom  for....”

Hina chuckled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Hey! I’ve matured since then. A little modesty goes a long way! Besides, I am changed now I don't give into temptation, and now I know better.”

**Sumaira:** “Oh, we all know you’re still the same wild one at heart! Just with a cute little  bitch now.” *She winked, causing Afrah to giggle.*

**Hina:** *Pretending to be offended* “You two are just jealous! But honestly, it’s so unfair. Men can have their fun without any judgment, yet we’re labeled the minute we step outside the ‘perfect wife’ mold.”

Afrah leaned in, a serious note creeping into her voice. “It’s true. If they knew about our pasts, they’d freak out. But they think it’s their right to judge us, like we’re supposed to be these angels.”

Hina:“Exactly! Like anything we do  even if it not harmful , suddenly we’re scandalous. It’s ridiculous!Don’t even get me started!”

Sumaira: “Men are so insecure about our pasts, it’s laughable. I mean, who do they think they are? You remember that guy from my college Juned who couldn’t handle it when he found out I had male friends? He was practically shaking in his boots!”

Hina: “Right? And let’s not forget the one who thought it was okay to flirt with all the bridesmaids at the wedding while being jealous of your old friends! Hypocrisy at its finest!”

They shared a laugh, the tension in the air lifting. Afrah felt the warmth of camaraderie, realizing how much she cherished these moments with her friends. But then a thought struck her, something she couldn’t shake off.

Afrah: “Sometimes, I wonder if they even think about how insecure they sound. Like, if they’re so worried about us, what does that say about them?”

Hina: “True! If they could handle a strong woman, they’d realize we’re not just defined by who we were. We’re still us, just better versions. But I guess they want us to be strong, only if it fits their idea of what strong means!”

Afrah: “Honestly, who cares what they think? We’re living for ourselves, not to boost their egos. They should be proud to be with women who have lived a little, who have experiences to share!”
 

Sumaira: “And if they can’t handle it? Well, that’s their problem, not ours! Besides, if they ever find out about the real ‘Hina’—they’ll be lucky if they don’t have a heart attack!”

They all burst into laughter again, the sound echoing around them. Afrah felt lighter, reassured by her friends’ camaraderie and their shared experiences.

Hina:  
Laughing“So true! My husband is great, don’t get me wrong, but every now and then, you see that insecurity slip through. It’s like they can’t help it. "


As Sumaira and Hina continued to chat and laugh, Afrah remained thoughtful. The more she listened, the more she wondered just how secure Sohail really was—and what that meant for their future.


The café was alive with chatter, the clinking of cups, and the occasional burst of laughter. Afrah sat back, trying to shake off the conversation’s effect, when suddenly, the air shifted. A deep, smooth voice cut through the noise like a warm breeze.

Vishal:Hi Afrah , 

Afrah’s breath hitched as she turned. *Vishal .* He stood there, impeccably dressed as always, his presence commanding attention even in the casual café setting. He smiled—a smile that had haunted her thoughts more than once, though she’d never admit it.

**Sumaira:** *Smirking* “Afrah… You didn’t tell us you had such interesting friend.”

Afrah glanced at Sumaira, whose teasing tone only irritated her further. She could feel the jealousy prickling at her skin, even though she tried to ignore it. *Why did he have to show up now?*

Afrah:guys ,he is my boss.



Hina, seated beside her, was clearly flustered. She adjusted her veil nervously, her face turning an unmistakable shade of pink. She glanced briefly at Vishal before looking away, but not before her eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest.

 Vishal introduced himself.
Vishal:Charming as ever, to Hina* “You must be one of Afrah’s friends. Pleasure to meet you.” 

Hina fumbled slightly, trying to regain her composure. She managed a small, shy smile, clearly flattered but doing her best to hide it.

Hina:Softly* “Uh… yes, nice to meet you too.”

Vishal’s gaze shifted between the three women, but it lingered on Afrah just long enough to make her uncomfortable. He always had a way of doing that—making her feel exposed under his steady, knowing eyes.

Sumaira: “So, Vishal, do you always crash girls’ coffee dates, or is this a special occasion?”

She leaned forward slightly, her voice dripping with flirtation. Afrah’s irritation grew. Sumaira and her boldness. Of course she’s enjoying this.

Vishal chuckled, his deep voice sending a ripple through the group.

Vishal:“Only when I’m lucky enough to run into colleagues outside the office.” His gaze flicked back to Afrah, his smile widening as if he could read the frustration in her eyes. “Afrah’s been hiding you two from me.”

Sumaira:Laughing“Well, she doesn’t usually introduce us to such… fascinating people. You’ll have to excuse her. I am  Sumaira.

Afrah shot her a look, silently warning her to cut it out. But Sumaira wasn’t one to back down easily.

Afrah:Trying to remain composed “I didn’t think you’d be out in this area, Vishal.”

Vishal:Casually “I had a meeting nearby. Thought I’d grab a coffee. Lucky me, I bumped into you ladies.”

Hina, who had been trying her best to stay quiet, couldn’t help but smile again, though she quickly ducked her head, pretending to check her phone. But Afrah could see the way her fingers fidgeted—Hina was clearly affected by Vishal’s presence. *Not so modest now, are you?* Afrah thought, amused despite herself.

Sumaira, on the other hand, was all in.

Sumaira:“Well, I hope we’re not keeping you from anything too important.”

Vishal:“Not at all. In fact, I’m happy to be here. Much more interesting than my usual meetings.”

Afrah shot him a sharp look, her irritation mounting. *Why did he always have to make everything sound like a game?*

Afrah:Clearing her throat, trying to steer the conversation away* “Well, we wouldn’t want to take up your time. I’m sure you’ve got work to get back to.”

Vishal’s eyes sparkled with amusement. He wasn’t leaving yet—not without having a bit more fun.

Vishal:“You’re right. I should get back. But it was nice meeting your friends, Afrah.” He turned to Sumaira and Hina, his smile broadening. “I hope I’ll be seeing you around more often.”

Sumaira didn’t miss a beat, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Sumaira: *Grinning* “Oh, I’m sure you will. Anytime you want to crash our coffee dates again, feel free.”

Afrah’s jaw tightened. She hated the way Sumaira flirted so openly with him, and even more so, she hated how much it bothered her. She had no reason to care, yet here she was, fuming on the inside.

Vishal:*With a sly smile to Afrah* “I’ll hold you to that. Afrah, see you in the office.”

He gave her one last glance—a glance that lingered, making her heart race before he finally walked away, leaving the café with the same quiet confidence that he always carried.

The moment the door swung shut behind him, Sumaira burst out laughing.

Sumaira: “Afrah! You never told us you had a boss like that! My God! How are you even concentrating at work? If Sohail knew what you were dealing with every day, he’d be sweating bullets!”

Hina:Blushing “He’s… um… very charming.”

Sumaira turned to Hina, her grin widening.

Sumaira: “Charming? Charming doesn’t even begin to cover it! Did you hear that voice? And those hands? Ugh, if I weren’t married—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, catching Afrah’s annoyed expression, but quickly recovered with a laugh.

Sumaira:Winking at Afrah “Don’t worry, Afrah. I’m not going to steal your boss. But seriously, how do you even manage? I mean, just look at him. Sohail might want to keep an eye out.”

Afrah forced a tight smile, but her mind was racing. She had felt an unsettling mix of emotions when Vishal had shown up—irritation, jealousy, and something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Why did Sumaira’s comments about Sohail bother her so much? Vishal was her boss, nothing more. And yet…

Hina:Still flusteredl “He’s definitely… something.”

Sumaira:Grinning “Something? That man is everything! Did you see how he looked at Afrah before he left? If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s something going on there.”

Afrah shook her head, trying to laugh it off, but inside, she was fuming. Why did they have to make it sound like more than it was?

Afrah:Flatly “There’s nothing going on. He’s just my boss. You know how he is—he flirts with everyone.”

Sumaira:Laughing“Uh-huh, sure. I’m just saying, if I had a boss like that… let’s just say, work would be a lot more interesting!”



Scene: After Sumaira and Hina Have Left – Mall

Afrah watched as Sumaira waved goodbye, her teasing smirk still lingering in the air, followed by Hina who left with a shy smile. Afrah exhaled, feeling relieved that the two of them were gone, though their words still echoed in her mind. 

She still had one more item to pick up before leaving, so she wandered into a quieter section of the store, focused on finding what she needed. But as she browsed the shelves, she felt it—that familiar looming presence behind her.

Vishal:Low and teasing* “Quite interesting friends you’ve got, Miss Fatima.”

Afrah’s back stiffened. Of course, it was him. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Vishal was standing too close, speaking in that annoyingly smooth voice of his. And again with the “Miss Fatima.” He knew exactly what he was doing.

Afrah:Whirling around, her eyes flashing“Yeah, well, you couldn’t stop gawking and flirting with them like a monkey, could you?”

Vishal chuckled, completely unfazed by her sharp tone. He stepped closer, leaning against the shelf casually, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

Vishal:Amused “Oh, someone’s jealous.”

Afrah folded her arms, trying to hide the flush creeping up her neck. Her heart raced, but she wasn’t about to let him see that.

Afrah: *Scoffing* “Why would I be jealous?”

Vishal: *Arching an eyebrow* “Then why not give me your friends’ Instagram handles or their numbers? That way I can ‘properly’ stay in touch.”

Afrah glared at him, her annoyance flaring up. *The nerve of this man!*

Afrah:"Snapping" “They’re married, you idiot.”

Vishal’s eyes gleamed with mischief. He leaned in a bit closer, just enough to make her uncomfortable, but also enough to keep her rooted to the spot.

Vishal:*With a grin, “And what does that have to do with anything?”

Afrah rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to shove him away. How did he always manage to get under her skin like this?

Afrah: “You’re *irredeemable*, you know that?”

**Vishal:** *Smirking* “Oh really? Tell me more.”

Afrah took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady, though the heat rising in her chest made it difficult. This was exactly why she needed to set boundaries with him—before he took his teasing too far, like he always did.

Afrah:*Firmly* “Vishal,  to talked about being professional .

Vishal chuckled again, leaning in just a fraction closer, his gaze unwavering.

Vishal:*Teasingly* “Professional, huh? You keep saying that, Miss Fatima, but I think you secretly enjoy these little exchanges.”

Afrah shot him a warning look, but her heart betrayed her, beating faster than ever. She wasn’t about to let him win this round.

Afrah:Through gritted teeth “You’re delusional. I don’t ‘enjoy’ anything. This ends today .”

Vishal’s smile didn’t fade as he stepped back, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Vishal: “Alright, alright. I’ll behave, boss. See you at the office tomorrow, *Miss Fatima*.”

He winked before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Afrah standing there, fuming. Her breath came in short bursts as she watched him disappear down the aisle.

*Infuriating, insufferable…* Afrah muttered to herself, trying to calm her racing heart. But deep down, she knew that this banter, these infuriating little games, were stirring something within her—something she wasn’t ready to confront.



Scene: Mall – Somewhere Near the Corner of a Shop

As Afrah and Vishal’s heated exchange ended, a young girl, maybe around nineteen, was casually strolling through the aisles. She wore a smirk on her face, her eyes sharp as she scanned the crowd. It wasn’t the first time she had come to this mall, and she often passed the time people-watching. But today, her eyes landed on something far more interesting.

From her position, half-hidden behind a display of scarves, the young girl saw a stunning woman standing close to a tall, handsome man. There was a tension in the air between them that immediately caught her attention. Something in the way they moved, the sharp looks the woman gave, and the confident smirk on the man’s face told her that this was no ordinary interaction.

Young Girl (in her thoughts): “Isn’t that… her?”

She pulled out her phone, quickly swiping through Instagram until she found the profile she was looking for—**Afrah Fatima**. It was her. The same poised, beautiful woman she had seen in pictures, often with a modest smile, always the perfect bride-to-be. But here, she looked different—edgy, flustered, and standing far too close to that man who wasn’t her fiancé.

The young girl’s eyes narrowed. The wheels in her mind started turning, a wicked smile spreading across her lips. This was gold.

This was Afrah, the girl who was going to marry her cousin Sohail. The same cousin whose mother had humiliated her and her family during a family event a year back. The memory still burned in her mind—Sohail’s mother had made a scene, criticizing her family for their 'lack of values,' leaving a stain on their reputation. 

But now, seeing Sohail’s perfect fiancée, wrapped up in some tension-filled moment with a man who was *definitely* not Sohail, gave her the perfect opportunity for revenge. 


Rida: "Oh, this is too good. Too perfect. Sohail’s pious little bride, getting all cozy with her boss? This is just the ammunition I need."

Her fingers twitched with excitement as she quickly snapped a few photos, capturing Afrah and Vishal from different angles. She was careful not to be seen, lurking in the shadows, a wicked glint in her eye.

RIDA (smirking to herself):** "Let’s see how Sohail’s mother handles this little scandal. Maybe she won’t be so high and mighty when her son’s future wife is caught in a compromising position."

She tucked her phone away, already plotting the next step. She knew exactly how to twist this situation in her favor, how to spin the narrative just right to create the maximum amount of chaos for Sohail and his family. She relished the thought of their faces—Sohail’s embarrassment, his mother’s humiliation, the shame that would ripple through their 'perfect' family.

Her plan was in motion. And she would make sure it hit where it hurt the most.

With one last look at Afrah, who seemed too wrapped up in her own emotions to notice anything around her, the young girl slipped away, a satisfied smirk on her face.

.
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#83
Not an ordinary story,going like a well jelled dance. Keep going brother. Thanks
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#84
Excellent
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#85
Nice story keep it up...if possible upload some photos.
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#86
Great going
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#87
drama of the story narration was too good

The lust of Vishal turn in to love
The fear of afrah turn in to reality of her nature
yourock  congrats
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#88
Nice update ,keep going
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#89
Very nice twist.
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#90
(04-10-2024, 11:24 PM)siva05 Wrote: Not an ordinary story,going like a well jelled dance. Keep going brother. Thanks

Thank bro
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#91
(06-10-2024, 08:58 AM)Dumeelkumar Wrote: Very nice twist.

(05-10-2024, 11:53 PM)Muralimm Wrote: drama of the story narration was too good

The lust of Vishal turn in to love
The fear of afrah turn in to reality of her nature

(05-10-2024, 11:36 AM)Losliyafan Wrote: Great going

(05-10-2024, 07:40 AM)Vinty03 Wrote: Nice story keep it up...if possible upload some photos.

(05-10-2024, 07:37 AM)vishuvanathan Wrote: Excellent

Thanks for your comments
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#92
Super narration
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#93
(06-10-2024, 10:31 AM)zulfique Wrote: Super narration

Thank you
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#94
Looks like the marriage is going to be cancelled soon and afrah turns a free bird.
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#95
Office 

It had been an uneventful week since the mall encounter with Vishal. Afrah had tried her best to avoid any significant interaction with him, but it was impossible to ignore the subtle ways he always seemed to find her in a crowded room. She would catch his gaze during meetings—his smirking eyes locking with hers for just a moment longer than necessary. A few teasing words in passing, a raised eyebrow here, a knowing smile there—it was all done so casually, yet it left her on edge.

She felt the tension building, knowing that Vishal’s charm wasn’t something that could easily be shrugged off.


Monday Morning: The Team Meeting

Afrah sat at the far end of the long conference table, listening to the team chatter before Vishal arrived. She had tried to settle into her routine, avoiding eye contact with him as much as possible, and the weekend had passed without incident. But when Vishal entered the room, the atmosphere shifted. As usual, he exuded confidence, walking to the front with an air of command.

He started the meeting as usual—business updates, project reviews—but then, out of nowhere, he dropped the bombshell.

Vishal (grinning):** “Alright, everyone, I’ve got some exciting news. We’re heading to Goa next week. An office tour for a strategic meeting. We’ll be gone for three days. The team selected for this is key to the next phase of the project.”

The room buzzed with excitement. Everyone loved the idea of mixing business with a bit of leisure, and Goa was the perfect place to unwind after months of deadlines.

Rina (excitedly): “Goa? Are you serious? This is going to be amazing!”

Vishal (smiling, leaning back against the table): “It’s business, people. But yes, a bit of Goa sunshine never hurt anyone. We need to focus on brainstorming, team-building, and, of course, relaxing when we’re not working. It’ll be a small group—just five of us.”

He looked around the room, his eyes finding Afrah’s and locking onto her with that smirk she had grown wary of.

Vishal (with a teasing smile):“Afrah, you’re coming too, of course. You’re one of the key players here.”

Afrah’s stomach tightened. She had tried to avoid being on his radar, and now he was hand-picking her for this trip. Her mind raced, trying to think of an excuse, but there was none.

Afrah (trying to stay neutral): “I… I’m not sure if I can—”

Vishal (cutting her off): “Nonsense. You’re part of this. Rina, Aman, Nisha, and I will be there too. You won’t want to miss this opportunity.”

Rina (grinning, nudging Afrah): “Come on, Afrah, it’ll be fun! We’ll work hard and relax harder. You can’t miss Goa!”

Afrah forced a smile, feeling trapped. Fun was the last thing on her mind. Her thoughts flashed to Sohail. What would he think?

Afrah (nodding slightly, resigned): “Okay… I’ll go.”

Vishal (with a satisfied grin): “That’s the spirit. Alright, people, start packing your bags. We leave next Monday.”

As the team dispersed, Rina, Aman, and Nisha excitedly talked about their plans for the trip. Afrah quietly packed up her things, trying to avoid Vishal’s gaze. But she felt him approach before she even looked up.

Vishal (leaning casually against her desk): “I knew you’d say yes.”

Afrah didn’t look up. She was trying to keep her voice steady. "Professional. Stay professional."

Afrah (coolly): “I didn’t really have much of a choice, did I?”

Vishal (smirking, his tone playful): “There’s always a choice, ms Fatima. But I’m glad you made the right one.”

Afrah shot him a sidelong glance, her irritation bubbling just below the surface. She hated how easily he got under her skin, how his words made her feel like she was playing a game she never signed up for.

Afrah (firmly): “Let’s keep this professional, Vishal.”

Vishal chuckled softly, standing upright. Vishal: “Oh, I intend to. It’s a work trip after all. Just don’t forget to enjoy yourself a little.”

Afrah turned back to her laptop, hoping to end the conversation, but Vishal lingered a moment longer, his presence looming over her. She could feel his eyes on her, and the tension was palpable.

Vishal (low voice): “We’ll have a lot to talk about in Goa.”

Before she could respond, he walked away, leaving her both relieved and unnerved. She knew this trip was going to be complicated—far more complicated than it needed to be.



Lunch with Afrah – A Quiet Café

Sohail and Afrah sit at a small table in the corner of a bustling café. The atmosphere is light and filled with the sound of laughter and soft music. 
Afrah sits across from him in the cozy café, her fitted blue kurti hugging every curve, showcasing her full chest and narrowing waist. The fabric clings to her body, the jeans tightly molding around her hips and thighs, enhancing her hourglass figure. With her legs crossed, she leans forward just enough, and the subtle rise of her kurti reveals a teasing glimpse of her smooth, slim waist. [img]<a href=[/img][Image: 1af5bcc7-bb17-4697-8c46-666860b6b95f.png]" />[img]<a href=[/img]" />

Her voice is low and playful, dripping with subtle allure as she chats, her eyes bright with mischief. A soft laugh escapes her lips, sending a flicker of excitement through the air. Her friend leans closer, clearly enchanted, as Afrah’s fingers slowly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement, deliberate and lingering, draws attention to her graceful neck and delicate features, adding an understated sensuality to her relaxed, casual demeanor.

Each time she shifts, adjusting her position, the fabric of her clothes moves with her, drawing subtle attention to the way her body fills the space. Her words carry a flirtatious, daring undertone, the slight curve of her lips signaling that she’s in control of the conversation, effortlessly holding her friend’s attention. There’s a magnetic energy about her, a quiet confidence that radiates from every gesture, leaving the room buzzing with an unspoken tension.

Sohail gaze fixated on Afrah. She exudes a captivating beauty that holds his attention, her fitted blue kurti hugging her curves perfectly. The way the fabric clings to her figure highlights her generous breasts, even though they’re modestly covered. There’s an alluring quality in how she carries herself, a mix of innocence and undeniable sensuality that draws him in.

As he watches her, his eyes wander over her body, tracing the elegant lines of her silhouette. He can't help but imagine how breathtaking she would look without the constraints of her clothing, her soft skin exposed, accentuating every curve and contour. The thought sends a thrill through him, awakening a desire he tries to suppress.In the middle of a cafe he was hard.
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The way she moves, with an effortless grace, only intensifies his longing. He pictures her with the kurti gone, envisioning the delicate arch of her back and the gentle swell of her hips, each detail igniting his imagination. A rush of warmth spreads through him, and he finds himself both captivated and frustrated, yearning for the day when he can explore all of her beauty without restraint.



They’ve been talking about mundane things, but the mention of Nisha’s relationship sends the conversation in a new direction.




Afrah leans back in her chair, twirling her straw absently as she looks thoughtfully out the window. 


Afrah: (Leaning in, a hint of mischief in her voice) “You know, I was talking to Nisha the other day, and she mentioned that her boyfriend is so insecure. It’s like he thinks she’s going to cheat on him all the time! He checks her phone, and they’re always fighting over it.”

  


Sohail nods, somewhat disinterested at first but intrigued by her tone.

Sohail: “That sounds rough. I can’t imagine living like that.”

Afrah:"Shrugging casually" “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t trust her because he’s got low self-esteem? But it’s just so childish. I’m really lucky I don’t have to deal with that.” *She looks directly at Sohail, her smile disarming.*

Sohail feels a warmth spread through him at her words, but there's an undertone of tension. He wants to agree with her, but the mention of "lucky" makes him uneasy.

Sohail: “Yeah, trust is important in a relationship. I’d never act like that.”

Afrah:"Playfully" “Of course not! You’re so mature. I can’t imagine you checking my phone or worrying about who I’m with.” She leans back, crossing her arms and regarding him thoughtfully. “It’s nice to know that some men can be secure.”


Sohail tries to ignore the subtle jab at men in general, feeling both proud and anxious. 

Sohail:"Half-smiling". “I just believe in giving each other space.”

Afrah: (Nodding enthusiastically) “Exactly! Like Nisha’s boyfriend was upset about her office tour to Goa. Can you believe that? He thinks she’s going to cheat on him there.”

The mention of Goa sends a jolt of insecurity through Sohail. 

Sohail:(Trying to sound relaxed) “It’s just a trip, right? Work is work.”

Afrah:(With an innocent smile)“Right! It’s just work. But you know, some guys are just so insecure. They can’t help but worry. They think that if a woman is attractive, she’ll attract attention, which is ridiculous.” 

Sohail feels his heart race at her implications, but he masks it with a casual nod.

Sohail: “Yeah, I guess. But I don’t think that way.”

Afrah:(Her tone teasing yet pointed) “I mean, it must feel good knowing you’re not like that. Like, imagine if I were going to Goa with a bunch of handsome guys—who knows how they’d act?” (She raises her eyebrows playfully, testing his reaction.)

Sohail swallows hard, feeling the jealousy creep in.



Sohail:(Defensively)“You know I trust you, Afrah.”

Afrah:(Nods, but her eyes glint mischievously) “Of course, you do! But not every guy is as secure as you, right? Just the other day, I was thinking about how lucky I am. You’re so… different. You’re not worried about me going out and having fun. I really appreciate that.”

The praise feels nice, but it’s layered with a twist that keeps Sohail on edge.

Afrah: (Continuing casually) “I mean, some women thrive on that attention! I can’t imagine being like that. Just look at Nisha’s boyfriend—what a mess! And here I am, with a wonderful, secure partner who lets me be myself.”

Sohail’s chest swells with pride, but his insecurities gnaw at him. 

Sohail: “I want you to have fun. I just hope you’ll always feel comfortable coming to me.”

Afrah:(With a hint of sweetness)“Oh, I would! I mean, look at how open we are with each other. But I know that if I had someone like Nisha’s boyfriend, I’d have to constantly reassure him. You’re not like that, right?”

Sohail shakes his head, feeling the tension shift between them. 

Sohail:(Forcing a smile) “No, not at all.”

Afrah:(Smirking slightly)“Good! Because honestly, sometimes it’s almost a compliment, isn’t it? Being the kind of man that trusts his partner? I think it shows confidence.”

The compliment feels genuine, but the way she angles it keeps Sohail on his toes. 

Sohail:“Yeah, I guess.”

Afrah: (Looking directly at him, her voice playful yet serious) “And it’s a real relief to know that you’re not worried about what I’m doing when I’m with others. Like when I go to Goa… It’ll be just a work trip, you know?”

His heart sinks at her reminder of the upcoming trip. 

Sohail:(Softly) “Right, just a work trip.”

Afrah reaches out, placing her hand over his. 

Afrah: “I’m so glad we can have these conversations. It makes me feel closer to you.” Her eyes sparkle as she speaks, but there’s a knowing look in them that makes him feel vulnerable.

He nods, unsure of how to respond. The weight of her subtle manipulations hangs in the air, making him feel both valued and uneasy at the same time.

Afrah: (Leaning back, a teasing smile on her lips) “But seriously, I would never do anything to hurt you. Not in a million years. And you know I’m going to be thinking of you while I’m in Goa, right?”

Sohail smiles, but beneath it, doubt churns.

Sohail:“Of course. I trust you completely.”

 Afrah changes the subject, laughing about a funny incident that happened at the office. 

But as she talks, Sohail can’t shake the feeling of dread creeping into his mind, wondering what it would be like when she’s in Goa, surrounded by others, and if he’ll ever be able to fully shake off the insecurities that plague him.

---


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**









---




Scene: Sohail’s Bedroom – Night

Sohail lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp on his nightstand, casting long shadows on the walls. His mind raced, replaying the conversation with Afrah from earlier that day.

"Nisha’s boyfriend is so insecure. He doesn’t even trust her... He always checks her phone, they fight all the time."

Afrah’s words echoed in his mind. He had forced a smile at the time, trying to seem calm and collected. She had called him lucky—“I’m so lucky to have you. You’re not insecure like him.”

But was he? 

Sohail turned over, staring at his phone lying on the bed next to him. He hadn’t said anything when she mentioned the office tour to Goa. It had come up so casually, slipped into the conversation after she spoke about Nisha's boyfriend. *Was that deliberate?* He wasn’t sure anymore. 

"The other day, Nisha’s boyfriend was angry about her going on the tour... He says she’s going to cheat on him there. Can you believe it?"

Afrah had laughed, brushing it off as ridiculous. But Sohail couldn’t laugh. Not now. Deep down, he didn’t want her to go. The idea of her spending time with her colleagues in Goa, especially someone like Vishal, gnawed at him. Is Vishal going too? The thought made his stomach churn.

Vishal. The guy who always seemed so confident, always so sure of himself. Sohail could barely meet his eyes in the office, especially after noticing how he smirked whenever he spoke to Afrah. 

“He’s probably just teasing her. He’s like that with everyone.” Sohail tried to rationalize it, but the knot in his stomach wouldn’t loosen. What if Vishal was there with her? What if he got too close? 

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. Afrah isn’t like that.But still, the insecurities lingered, creeping up on him like shadows in the corners of his mind.

What if she finds someone like Vishal more exciting? More… interesting? 

The doubts kept piling up. Vishal was charismatic, confident, and looked like he belonged in those glossy magazines Afrah sometimes flipped through. And what was Sohail? He felt so plain, so dull in comparison.

His hands clenched into fists as he sat up, unable to shake the uneasy feeling. He grabbed his phone and stared at the messaging app, debating whether to text her. *Should I ask her if Vishal is going?* He hesitated. He didn’t want to come across as insecure, especially after she had praised him for being the opposite. 

But the thought of Vishal being there, with her, in Goa, wouldn’t leave him.

Sohail put his phone down and leaned back against the headboard. His thoughts spiraled.

Does Afrah even realize how much this is bothering me? What if she thinks I’m weak if I bring it up?


He couldn’t help but imagine the worst. What if she starts seeing him the way she used to look at me? What if she realizes… I’m not enough?

The room felt colder, and Sohail felt smaller, as though the walls were closing in on him. Would she come back from that trip still seeing me the same way?

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe slowly. Stop it. Stop thinking like this. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. They wrapped around him, tightening their grip as the night wore on.

The words she had said to him earlier played on a loop in his head, both a reassurance and a torment. “I’m lucky to have you… You’re not insecure like him.”

But right now, all he felt was insecure. And the fear of losing her felt more real than ever.
.


 Afrah’s Home – Breaking the News

Dropping the news on Sohail had been easy. He didn’t argue much, just nodded, even though she saw the doubt flicker in his eyes. But with her family, it wasn’t going to be so simple—especially with her mother. 

Afrah knew the moment she mentioned *Goa*, her mother’s reaction would be sharp and swift. Just a week ago, they had barely agreed on her promotion at work. Now, an office trip to Goa, traveling with colleagues, including men? That was a different storm entirely.

Sitting at the dinner table, Afrah took a deep breath and dropped the bomb.

Afrah: (Casually)“By the way, I have to attend a work trip next week… to Goa.”

Her mother’s hand froze mid-air, spoon hovering above her plate. Her eyes narrowed immediately, suspicion blooming.

Afrah’s Mother: (Coldly) “Goa? With your office? So, you’ll be traveling with men, too?”

Afrah could feel her mother’s religious and conservative beliefs hanging heavily in the air, the unspoken rules women in their family were expected to follow. This wasn’t going to be a quiet discussion.

Afrah:(Calmly) “Ammi, it’s a professional trip. It’s for work, not a vacation.”

Her mother’s face hardened, her voice sharp.

Afrah’s Mother: “Work or not, Goa is not a place for a young, unmarried girl to be running around with men! What will people say? What wil Sohail family say?”

Afrah had expected this. She turned to her father, her trump card, knowing she had to play it carefully. Her father, though more traditional, was also proud of her success and had always wanted her to be independent.

Afrah:(Softly, but with conviction) “Abbu, this is part of my job. If I don’t go, it’ll look bad. You always said I should gain experience, that it would help me grow. This is an opportunity.Beside I have talk to Sohail."

Her father shifted uncomfortably, glancing at her mother. He was torn, as always, between the values he held and the pride he felt in his daughter.

Afrah’s Father: (Hesitant)“I understand it’s for work, but… Afrah, your mother is right. People will talk. It’s not just about you, it’s about how this will reflect on our family.”

Afrah leaned in, her voice softening, as if she were making a plea rather than an argument.

Afrah: “But, Abbu, this is part of my career. You always taught me that I have to make sacrifices to succeed. You trust me, right? You know I won’t do anything wrong.”

Her mother wasn’t having it, though. She had been through this before, the slippery slope of young women thinking they could navigate the world while staying within the bounds of tradition.

Afrah’s Mother: (Firmly) “It’s not about trust. It’s about reputation. A girl traveling with men? It’s not proper, Afrah, and you know it. You think people won’t start whispering?”

Afrah pressed on, ignoring the tension in the room as she zeroed in on her father’s softer stance.

Afrah:(Slightly pleading) “Abbu, I need this. It’s a step forward for me. You’ve always supported my career. You said it yourself—this is the world we live in now.”

Her father sighed deeply, still unsure but slowly yielding under his daughter’s reasoning. Afrah knew she had him. All she needed was his final word.

Afrah’s Father:(Gently)“Maybe… maybe just this once. But you have to be careful, Afrah. This is not a light decision.”

Her mother’s face tightened in anger, realizing she was losing ground.

Afrah’s Mother:(Angry, but resigned) “You’re making a mistake. I warned you about this path. One step out of line, Afrah, and everything can fall apart. Don’t think I’m just going to sit here if something happens. You’re playing with fire.”

Afrah didn’t respond, her focus solely on her father’s approval. She had won the battle for now, but she knew the war with her mother was far from over.





In the quiet of her room, Afrah sat on the edge of her bed, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She had done it. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the victory. It wasn’t easy to navigate between her ambitions and her family’s conservative expectations, but she was learning the art of persuasion. She had Sohail on board, even if he didn’t like it. Her family was reluctantly supportive. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

But then, as she lay back against the pillows, a shadow crept into her thoughts. Vishal.

The dreaded feeling gnawed at her, unsettling the satisfaction that had settled in. Vishal was a wildcard. It wasn’t just his confident demeanor or the way he seemed to enjoy pushing her boundaries—there was something about him that felt dangerous. And now, with this trip to Goa, he’d have the perfect opportunity to test those boundaries even further.

She had managed to convince everyone else, but convincing herself that she could handle Vishal was a different story. He knew how to play with her mind, how to make her question herself. And worse, he seemed to know exactly what buttons to press. The way his eyes lingered, the subtle innuendos—it was all calculated.

A knot formed in her stomach as she realized that, away from the office, away from the familiar walls of her life, Vishal’s influence might be harder to resist. Afrah shook her head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, like a storm cloud on the horizon.

She had won the argument at home, but the real challenge lay ahead. And deep down, she knew Vishal would be waiting.



As Afrah lay back against her pillows, the events of the past few weeks spiraled in her mind, each memory colliding with the next. But one moment stood out, sharper and more intoxicating than the rest—the kiss.

It had happened in a fleeting second, when the air between her and Vishal had crackled with electric tension. She remembered how his lips had brushed against hers, igniting a fire that surged through her body like a current. It was a kiss that held all the weight of her suppressed desires, a moment that had swept her away from reality and plunged her into a dizzying rush of sensation.

The taste of him lingered, a mix of mint and something undeniably enticing, leaving her breathless. She could still feel the warmth of his body close to hers, the way his hands had gently cupped her face, as if he were claiming her in that instant. It was a heady mix of danger and thrill, sending shivers down her spine, awakening something inside her that she had tried so hard to bury.

Now, as she prepared for the upcoming trip to Goa, a dangerous thrill coursed through her veins. What would happen if she found herself alone with Vishal again? Would he lean in closer, that confident smirk on his lips making her pulse race as heat pooled in her stomach? Would his hand find its way to the small of her back, urging her closer, his fingers brushing against her bare skin?

Afrah couldn’t help but replay that kiss in her mind, the way it had ignited every nerve ending in her body. It felt like a drug—addictive, exhilarating, and utterly reckless. She had spent so long being the good daughter, the dutiful fiancée, but that kiss had awakened something wild within her. What if she let go of all her inhibitions? What if she embraced the chaos he brought into her life?

As she thought about the trip, her heart quickened at the prospect of sun-soaked beaches and the freedom that came with them. The thought of sharing a hotel room with her colleagues, including Vishal, sent a delicious thrill racing through her. She could already picture the way his gaze would linger on her, how the heat between them would be palpable, thick enough to cut.

Afrah’s mind raced with tantalizing possibilities. She imagined slipping away with Vishal, finding a secluded spot where they could let the heat of their chemistry erupt. Would he pull her against him, his hands gripping her waist, his lips crashing onto hers once more, their bodies pressed together in a desperate embrace? Would his hand slip lower, gripping her ass, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, until they were lost in each other?

But along with the thrill came the weight of her conscience. She had worked hard to project an image of the perfect fiancée. But now, as the vision of Vishal’s lips hovered in her thoughts, she felt the allure of a secret life beckoning her. The kiss had stirred a hunger within her—a craving for something more, something that felt real and intoxicating.

With a deep breath, Afrah resolved to keep her wits about her. She was not going to let a single kiss derail her carefully laid plans. Yet, as she closed her eyes, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip to Goa would push her to the edge, where temptation lurked in every corner, waiting to drag her into a world of racy indulgence she had never dared to explore.
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#96
What comes in Goa waiting for the chapter
yourock  congrats
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#97
Super update
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#98
As Afrah stood at the airport, suitcase in hand, her mother’s disapproving look lingered in her mind. "Girls who go on trips like this...they lose their way," her mother had warned before she left. But this was her first trip to Goa, and she was determined to enjoy it.


She spotted her colleagues Neha, Nisha, and Aman already gathered at the terminal. After greeting them, she glanced around, expecting to see Vishal. Her pulse quickened, but to her relief, Neha informed her with a smile.

Neha: “Vishal sir’s taking the next flight. Something came up.”

Afrah hid her disappointment, though a part of her had been looking forward to his intense presence. As they checked in, Nisha teased her about her first time in Goa, while Aman joked.

Aman:“Don’t get lost on the beach, Afrah!”

She laughed along, but her mind kept drifting back to the thought of Vishal, wondering what the next few days might bring. The anticipation simmered beneath the excitement of the trip.


The first day in Goa had been nothing short of exhausting. The client meeting had stretched on longer than expected, running well into the evening. Afrah barely had time to catch her breath before they were finally released from the conference room.

When she stepped into her hotel room, she was struck by its luxury. The soft lighting, plush furnishings, and the enormous bed—all details that made her feel like she’d stepped into another world. She sank into the bed, its softness enveloping her, offering comfort after a long day.

Too tired to even think, she barely registered the luxury around her. The moment her head hit the pillow, sleep overtook her.

The second day’s meeting was shorter, and to Afrah’s surprise, Vishal remained strictly professional throughout. He led the discussions with precision, his tone focused, his demeanor calm. A part of her was relieved, thankful for his professionalism. But another part—a deeper, hidden part—felt a pang of disappointment. She had expected something more, something that hinted at the tension between them.

As the meeting wrapped up, Vishal turned to the group, his expression light. “Alright, everyone. That’s it for today. Why don’t you freshen up and enjoy the hotel or head down to the beach?” 

Then his eyes landed on her. He smiled—slow, deliberate, almost playful. Afrah’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she felt the heat of his gaze linger just a second too long. She knew that smile; it wasn’t just friendly. Her intuition told her there was something more behind it, something dark, seductive, and sinister.

A wave of excitement mixed with apprehension washed over her. Was she imagining it? Or was he playing a game, one that would unfold when they were away from prying eyes?

Nisha had suggested they enjoy the pool first, and everyone agreed. Back in her room, Afrah stood in her suitcase staring at clothes. Her clothes were modest, fully covered, a far cry from the two-piece bikinis she had seen some women flaunting at the pool earlier. It had caught her attention, the way those swimsuits accentuated their bodies, exuding confidence and sex appeal. She wouldn’t dare to wear something like that, though. 

As she pick the dress, she found herself wondering what it would feel like—to let go of her inhibitions, to be daring for once. But no, she pushed the thought away. It wasn’t her.

Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when the doorbell rang, pulling her back to reality.


Afrah opened the door to find Vishal standing there, leaning casually in the frame. His white shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing just enough of his strong chest to make her heartbeat quicken, and he wore jeans that hung comfortably on his lean frame. His smirk was unmistakable.

"Vishal?" she asked, startled. "What are you doing here?"

Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space. "Well," he said, his voice smooth and casual, "I'm actually here for you. Get ready—we’re going somewhere." Door closed.

"Is the pool plan cancelled?" she asked, trying to hide the nerves creeping into her voice.

He gave a lazy grin. "No, let the rest of the group enjoy the pool. You and I are going somewhere else." 

A thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of dread washed over her as she looked into his eyes. She knew there was something more behind that smile, something seductive and dangerous.

Vishal leaned against the wall, his smirk widening as Afrah crossed her arms, standing her ground. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep her voice steady despite the way he looked at her.

Vishal chuckled, taking a slow step closer. "Oh, come on. I thought you’d be up for a little adventure. Don’t tell me you're scared."

"Scared?" She scoffed, though her heart was racing. "Of what? You?"

He tilted his head, giving her a playful grin. "Maybe. Or maybe you're scared of how much fun you’ll have."

Afrah rolled her eyes, refusing to let him get to her. "I’m not one of those girls, Vishal. I don’t just run off whenever you snap your fingers."

"Who said anything about snapping fingers?" He winked. "I’m asking nicely."

She laughed, shaking her head. "No. The answer is still no. The pool is where I’m going. Besides, everyone will notice if I’m not there."

Vishal stepped even closer, lowering his voice, the teasing edge still in his tone. "Let them notice. What’s the harm in bending the rules a little? You might even enjoy it."

Afrah’s eyes flickered with hesitation for a moment before she brushed past him. "I'm not falling for your charm, Vishal. I know you too well. And besides," she added, her lips curling into a smirk of her own.

The bell rang, again ,she heard Neha's voice outside talking to someone.
Vishal’s smirk deepened as Afrah stood by the door, frozen with worry. The bell rang again, and her heart pounded as she whispered urgently, “Vishal, hide! It’s Neha!”

But instead of moving, he stepped closer to her, his breath warm against her ear. “Hide?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “Only if you come with me.”


"Vishal, no!" she hissed, trying to push him back, but he wasn’t budging.

He smirked, his face inches from hers. "Then I’m not hiding," he said quietly, glancing at the door as the bell rang again, Neha knocking and calling out from the other side.

Afrah’s heart raced, a mix of panic and frustration rising. "Please," she whispered, her eyes pleading. "She’ll see you. I can’t explain this."

Vishal shrugged casually. "Your call. But I'm not moving unless you agree."

Another knock echoed through the room. Afrah's eyes darted to the door. She sighed in defeat, nodding reluctantly. "Fine! I’ll come with you, just… hide."

Vishal grinned triumphantly, taking a step back but not before brushing a thumb lightly along her arm. "Good girl," he murmured, stepping into the bathroom as Afrah shot him a glare.

Taking a deep breath, Afrah opened the door. Neha stood there, already in her swimsuit and towel in hand. "Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re all heading to the pool."

Afrah forced a smile, her heart still racing. "Oh, I’m… not feeling too well. I think I’ll rest for a bit and join you guys later."

Neha frowned, looking concerned. "You sure? You seemed fine earlier."

"Yeah, just hit me suddenly. Maybe something I ate?" Afrah said, glancing nervously at the bathroom door.

"Alright… but let me know if you need anything. We’ll be down by the pool," Neha said, giving her a sympathetic smile before heading off.

As soon as the door closed, Afrah leaned back against it, exhaling in relief. Vishal emerged from the bathroom, still smirking.

"See? That wasn’t so hard," he teased.

Afrah glared at him. "I’m only doing this because you left me no choice. Don’t think I’m okay with it."

Vishal chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Now, get ready. We’re going to have some fun."



As the car ride continued, Vishal’s hand casually rested on the back of Afrah’s seat.

“Mind if I show you something?” Vishal asked, his voice smooth and teasing.

Before she could respond, he gently leaned over her to adjust the radio, his chest brushing against her arm. The subtle contact sent a jolt through her. She inhaled sharply, suddenly hyper-aware of his nearness. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, enveloped her senses.

Vishal’s hand lingered a second too long near her waist as he shifted back into his seat. His eyes met hers, holding the gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his fingers inching closer again. “I can help with that.”

Afrah’s breath hitched as his fingers traced the hem of her dress—barely touching, but enough to make her skin burn where his hand had been. She clenched her fists in her lap, fighting the urge to lean into the dangerous pull between them. He wasn’t rushing, just playing with the tension, knowing it would drive her mad.

The unspoken promise hung thick in the air. Neither said anything, but the tension was enough to set her heart racing, a slow burn building inside her as his hand hovered at the edge of temptation.

Vishal parked the car in front of a high-end boutique, its glass windows glittering with expensive dresses on display. 

"Why are we here?" Afrah asked, a bit uneasy, as she looked at the dazzling store.

Vishal smirked, stepping out and opening her door. “I thought you could use a little upgrade to that dress of yours.” His eyes roamed over her, not in a lewd way, but enough to make her skin tingle. "Come on, something that shows off... more of you."

Afrah hesitated, but he was already guiding her into the store, his hand lightly pressing against her lower back. Inside, racks of luxurious, daring dresses greeted her. One by one, Vishal picked out pieces—denim shorts, plunging necklines, slits that ran scandalously high.

“Try this,” he handed her a denim shorts and a white crop top. It looked like it could barely cover her modestly, but the fabric was undeniably sensual.


As Afrah stared at the denim shorts, her thoughts flashed back to that night. The first time Vishal had taken her shopping, she had tried on a dress with a slit that revealed just enough of her thigh to make his gaze linger. She had never felt so exposed, yet so desired. The way his eyes had traveled over her body, appreciating every curve, had made her feel an intoxicating mix of power and vulnerability. She remembered the heat in his touch, the way his hand had slid over her thigh, sparking sensations she hadn’t allowed herself to explore before.

And then, that kiss—his lips claiming hers with a force she hadn’t anticipated, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.

Now, here she was again, holding the tiny shorts. They were far more daring than anything she had ever worn. The thought of wearing them, exposing so much skin, sent a chill down her spine. How would she look in them? More importantly, how would Vishal look at her?

Her pulse quickened as she imagined stepping out of the dressing room, Vishal’s gaze devouring her once again, his smirk deepening with approval. The thought sent a rush of excitement and dread through her. Could she handle that kind of attention again? Could she handle the tension between them building even more? 

With a deep breath, Afrah made her decision.

Afrah shook her head, holding the denim shorts and crop top at arm’s length. “I can’t wear this, Vishal. It’s way too much—or rather, too little.” She looked up, hoping to see a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

But Vishal’s smirk only deepened as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come on, Afrah. It’s not that scandalous. You’ve got the body for it—why not show it off?”

Afrah felt a flush creep up her neck. “Because I don’t need to show off, and I’m not comfortable—”

Vishal cut her off, stepping closer. “Or maybe you’re afraid of how good you’ll look in it.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, just inches from her ear. “You’ll turn heads. Everyone will be looking at you. Including me.”

Afrah’s heart raced as he brushed a hand lightly over her arm, teasing her skin with his fingertips. “I don’t need anyone looking at me like that,” she whispered, her voice betraying her resolve.

“Don’t you?” Vishal whispered back, his breath warm against her neck. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you like it when I watch you? You enjoy the attention.”

She swallowed hard, torn between defiance and the magnetic pull of his words. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

He chuckled softly, stepping back, giving her space—but only enough to make her miss the closeness. “Afrah, trust me. You’ll look incredible in those shorts.” His eyes darkened as they traveled down to the shorts in her hands. “You should wear them... for me.”

Her breath hitched. There was something dangerously seductive in the way he said it, like a challenge she couldn’t back down from. She tried to muster some resistance, but his confidence, his persistence, were making her waver.

“Vishal, I...”

“If you don’t try them on,” he said, his voice velvety smooth, “I’m not leaving. In fact, I might just stay here and help you with them myself.”

Afrah’s pulse raced at the insinuation, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words and the intensity in his eyes. She looked at him, then back at the shorts, biting her lip in hesitation. 

Finally, with a resigned sigh, she stepped toward the dressing room. "Fine. But only this once." 

Vishal grinned, watching her disappear behind the room, his eyes gleaming with victory.


Afrah slowly slid the denim shorts up her legs, the fabric clinging tightly to her thighs, hugging every curve as it stretched to fit her hips. The denim pressed against her skin in a way that felt foreign, yet thrilling, emphasizing the shape of her thighs and the gentle curve of her buttocks. She adjusted them, tugging slightly to make them sit higher, and noticed how they framed her backside, lifting it, making it appear more defined, more voluptuous. Every small movement she made caused the shorts to ride up just enough to tease, exposing more of her smooth, sun-kissed skin.
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Her reflection in the mirror showed a woman she barely recognized. Her thighs looked long and toned, the slight dip where they met her hips making her legs seem endless. The shorts hugged her body so tightly that the fabric outlined every contour, highlighting the swell of her buttocks and the firm roundness beneath.

As her gaze traveled upwards, she took in the small strip of bare skin between the top of the shorts and the hem of the crop top. Her waist was slender, the gentle inward curve leading the eye naturally to the soft rise of her hips. The top was fitted snugly around her chest, accentuating the fullness of her breasts, the fabric pulling tight over her curves in a way that was both revealing and tantalizing.

Her bare midriff was smooth, her skin glistening slightly under the soft lights of the changing room. The subtle lines of her abdomen were visible, leading the eye down from the swell of her breasts to the dip of her navel and the firm line of her hips. The crop top ended just below her ribcage, leaving her entire waist exposed, and the way the fabric clung to her body made her look both confident and sultry.

Turning slightly, Afrah admired how the shorts framed her backside, the way they seemed to mold to her body, making her buttocks look rounder, fuller, with each movement making the denim pull taut. Her smooth, toned legs stretched out beneath her, the contrast between the tight shorts and her bare skin drawing attention to every inch of her body. She could see the curve of her thighs, the way they met her hips in a seamless line of softness and strength, and it made her feel undeniably sexy.

Her breasts rose gently with each breath, the crop top pulling tightly against them, accentuating the soft rise and fall of her chest. She could see the outline of her figure clearly, every inch of her body perfectly showcased in the mirror, and for the first time, she felt the power of her own femininity. There was a seductive allure to the way the clothes highlighted her curves, leaving just enough to the imagination, but showing enough to make her feel daring and bold.

Afrah ran her fingers lightly along the bare skin of her waist, feeling the smoothness of her body and the way the clothes accentuated her natural shape. There was a thrill in seeing herself like this, a mix of vulnerability and confidence that sent a rush of excitement through her. The way the shorts hugged her hips and the crop top framed her breasts made her feel powerful, like she was embracing a part of herself she had long suppressed.

In that moment, staring at her reflection, Afrah couldn’t help but appreciate the way her body looked—strong, feminine, and undeniably sexy.


As Afrah stepped out of the changing room, she could feel the intensity of Vishal’s gaze settle on her. It was impossible to ignore the way his eyes traveled down her body, lingering on every curve. The tight denim shorts clung to her hips, accentuating the smooth, sensual sway of her body as she walked. The fabric hugged her buttocks, framing them perfectly, lifting just enough with every step to reveal more of her soft, supple thighs. Each movement seemed to tease him, the shorts riding up slightly as she walked, enhancing the roundness of her curves in a way that was both seductive and effortlessly natural.https://i.ibb.co/QnHp5nT/GIF-20241009-223444-502.gif[/img]" />[img=539x1250]<a href=[/img][Image: GIF-20241009-223444-502.gif]" />

Her legs, long and bare, gleamed under the boutique’s soft lighting. The smoothness of her skin was on full display, her toned thighs catching the light as she moved with a subtle grace. Every step she took made the shorts pull just a little tighter against her, showing off the shapely lines of her body, the way her thighs flowed seamlessly into the curve of her hips.

Above the waistband of the shorts, her bare waist was exposed, the gentle rise and fall of her abdomen visible between the low-slung denim and the tight crop top. Her skin was warm and flushed, contrasting against the soft fabric of the top, which hugged her chest in a way that emphasized her curves. The exposed sliver of her midriff made her feel vulnerable but also powerful, aware of how his eyes followed the smooth, inviting line of her waist.

As she walked past him, she could feel his gaze on her, the undeniable heat of his attention making her pulse quicken. The way his eyes lingered on her bare skin, on the way the shorts cupped her perfectly, sent a thrill down her spine. She could sense his desire, the hunger in his eyes, and it both unsettled and excited her.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, trying to sound stern, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her nerves.

Vishal smirked, leaning against the wall as his gaze never left her body. “Can’t help it,” he said, his voice low, filled with a teasing edge. “You look so sexy, Afrah. That outfit... it’s dangerous.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from the intensity of his gaze, but it only pushed her breasts up, making the top cling tighter. “I feel ridiculous. This is way too much... or too little,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes.

“Too little?” Vishal stepped closer, his voice dropping into that smooth, seductive tone. “Nah, it’s just the right amount. You’re stunning. And I know you feel it too.”

Afrah’s heart pounded as she felt his presence inches away. His words sent a flush up her neck, but she forced herself to remain composed, brushing off the heat building between them. “This is just... for fun. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Vishal chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, it’s a big deal. You’re killing me right now. I could barely keep my eyes off you before, but now...” He let his words hang, the implication clear.

Afrah’s pulse quickened, but she forced a smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Vishal’s grin widened as he stepped even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you... you’re irresistible.”

She could feel his breath on her skin, the way his eyes burned with desire, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily. “You should really stop trying to flirt with me, Vishal,” she said, her voice firmer now, though her heart raced.

His smirk didn’t waver. “I will, when you stop enjoying it so much.”

Afrah’s eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and frustration. She turned on her heel, pretending to ignore him, but she couldn’t hide the slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.


As Afrah turned to walk away, she felt Vishal’s gaze, hot and penetrating, tracing her figure like an intimate touch. Each step brought out the seductive sway of her hips, the tight denim shorts wrapping around her body and accentuating the gentle curve of her waist. The fabric hugged her buttocks perfectly, shifting with her movements and showcasing the soft, round shape. She could feel the denim cling to her skin, lifting just enough to tease a glimpse of the smooth flesh beneath, igniting a thrill deep inside her.

Her thighs, toned and alluring, glided together with a whispering brush, each step sending a delightful shiver through her legs. The hem of the shorts flirted with her upper thighs, riding up slightly, while the light danced across her skin, illuminating the curves and contours of her legs, making them gleam with every movement.

Above the waistband, her crop top teased a glimpse of her bare midriff, the soft skin glowing with vitality. Afrah's stomach fluttered as she sensed Vishal’s gaze lingering on the exposed strip of skin between her top and shorts. His eyes were magnetic, drawn to the alluring curve of her waist and the rhythm of her movements, each sway of her body captivating him further.

Every step she took felt intentional, charged with the awareness of his watchful eyes. She bit her lip, attempting to maintain her composure, but the thrill of the moment electrified her senses. She felt undeniably sexy, fully aware of the effect her appearance had on him, and the thought of Vishal absorbing every detail sent a rush of heat coursing through her.

As she moved deeper into the boutique, her body felt more alive, responding to the intensity of his gaze. Despite her efforts to remain composed, a part of her savored the way he looked at her, reveling in the subtle power dynamics at play and the exhilarating energy that crackled between them.


Vishal called her back just as she was about to turning , a playful glint in his eye. His hand held something small and glimmering—a delicate silver waist chain that shimmered as it caught the boutique’s soft lighting. “You have to try this on,” he said, his voice smooth, filled with an almost teasing confidence. The look he gave her made her pulse quicken. “This would look incredible on you.”

Afrah opened her mouth to protest, but before she could form a response, Vishal had already closed the distance between them. He guided her gently toward the tall mirror against the wall, positioning them both so their reflections filled the glass. Standing beside him, she felt a wave of awareness wash over her—Vishal, with his easy, self-assured presence, looking at her in a way that made her heart race. She glanced at her reflection and saw how the denim shorts hugged her thighs perfectly, the high waist accentuating the curve of her hips. Her crop top revealed just enough of her midriff, highlighting her slim waist and leaving her feeling undeniably sexy.

Vishal’s voice was low, full of admiration. “Look at you,” he murmured, his gaze intense as it lingered on her reflection. “That face… those full lips, those eyes…” His eyes traveled down slowly, taking in the shape of her body with unguarded appreciation. “And those thighs,” he added, his voice dropping slightly. “Everything about you is mesmerizing.”
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Afrah’s breath caught in her throat as his words sank in, the intimacy of his tone sending a shiver down her spine. Before she could react, he moved closer, his breath warm against her ear. Gently, he lifted the cool, shimmering chain and dbangd it around her waist. The cold touch of the silver on her skin made her gasp softly, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his fingers. As he fastened the chain, his fingers brushed her bare skin, sending tingles through her body. The air between them felt thick, charged with something electric.

His fingers traced around her navel, lingering as he adjusted the chain, but Afrah was acutely aware of the heat radiating from his touch. His fingertips were warm, almost tender, yet the intimacy in the way they grazed her skin made her stomach flutter. His touch felt both careful and deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. Her pulse quickened with each soft glide of his fingers, and it took all her focus not to melt into his touch right there.
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The delicate chain settled snugly against her waist, but it was the warmth of his hand that lingered long after he pulled away, leaving a sensation that made her knees weak. She could barely breathe, feeling a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. Her heart hammered in her chest, and the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. She had never felt so aware of her body, nor the way Vishal was looking at her, his eyes dark with unspoken desire.

His hand hovered near her waist for a moment longer, as if reluctant to break the contact. Then, in one smooth motion, he withdrew, but the tension between them remained, crackling in the air. Her skin still tingled from his touch, and there was an undeniable stirring inside her, a heat that was impossible to ignore. She could sense it—his desire mirroring her own, unspoken but palpable, hanging in the air between them.

Vishal’s voice was a low whisper, almost a growl. “Let’s go,” he said, his tone laced with a promise that made her heart skip a beat. Without waiting for a reply, he placed a hand on the small of her back, his touch possessive but gentle, and guided her toward the exit. The brush of his fingers against her skin sent a jolt through her, and she leaned into the contact, savoring the way his presence enveloped her.

With every step they took toward the exit, the waist chain swayed with her movements, glimmering in the soft light. It accentuated her curves with each stride, reminding her of the chain itself but more so of Vishal’s touch—how he had lingered, the intensity of his gaze, the connection they shared that went unspoken yet filled the air between them.
 




At Sohail home:

Rida and Sohail's mother sat across from each other in the living room, sipping tea. The conversation started on a neutral note, but soon, the topic shifted to working women.

Sohail's mother, her disapproval clear in her tone, shook her head. "I’ve never understood why a woman needs to work outside the home. A man provides, that’s his duty. A woman’s place is to take care of the house and raise children. This modern thinking… it’s just not right."

Rida raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Well, Bhai’s future wife is working, isn’t she?" she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Afrah has a job, and I hear she’s quite good at it."

Sohail's mother stiffened. "She’ll quit after the nikah, of course," she said firmly. "There’s no need for her to continue working once she becomes part of this family. I don’t want her running around offices when she should be taking care of the home."

Rida leaned back, her smile growing wider. "Oh, I see. Just making sure. You know how girls are these days. Some don’t like to quit their jobs. They enjoy the independence."

Sohail's mother frowned, clearly displeased. Before she could respond, Rida changed the subject, her tone growing more playful. "By the way, do you know that companies often send their employees on work tours? To different places, sometimes for days? I’ve heard some women take full advantage of these trips, enjoying themselves without their families."

Sohail's mother’s face darkened. "What kind of decent woman would go on a trip like that without male family members? It’s shameful, and I don’t trust such women. They must be... characterless."

Rida watched her closely, knowing full well how much this conversation would stir trouble. Sohail hadn’t mentioned Afrah’s upcoming office trip, and Rida knew his mother’s reaction would be explosive if she found out.

"Imagine," Rida continued, her tone mocking, "your daughter-in-law, going on a trip with her office. What would people say?" Her question lingers.

 In Sohail room:

Sohail sat in his room, his mind swirling with thoughts of his mother's and Rida's earlier conversation. His Amma had never liked the idea of women working, and hearing Rida bring up the topic of Afrah’s job had only stirred up more doubts. It was the way Rida had mocked the idea of Afrah quitting after the nikah that bothered him—like she knew something he didn’t. His mother's disapproval of women traveling for work added another layer of unease, especially since Afrah was away on an office trip and hadn't mentioned it to her. He knew how she would react if she found out.

It was 7 p.m. now, and Rida hadn't messaged him or replied to his call. That alone was unusual, given how quick she usually was to get in touch. The silence left him with nothing but his thoughts, and they kept drifting back to that office visit.

He remembered seeing Vishal that day—how effortlessly confident he seemed. The way Vishal had looked at Afrah, and how she'd responded to him, stuck in his mind. She’d been blushing, smiling at Vishal’s words, looking... comfortable. Too comfortable. He couldn’t help but notice how she seemed to light up around Vishal, and it gnawed at him. Vishal was good-looking, muscular, everything Sohail wasn’t. The idea of her spending time with him, especially now that they were on this trip together, made his insecurities flare up.

The thought of Afrah being there with other men, especially Vishal, without a guardian—it unsettled him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, but he tried to convince himself that he was overthinking it.

Sohail’s fingers tightened around his phone as the call went to voicemail once again. The silence on the other end gnawed at him, feeding his insecurities and setting his mind on fire with suspicion. He could feel the dread creeping in, like a dark cloud spreading through his chest.

His thoughts veered dangerously, slipping back to that moment years ago—his college crush, the girl he'd thought would be his, was instead with two men. He’d seen them in that abandoned building, her body pressed between them, her lips locked with one, their hands roaming each other freely. The scene had shattered him then, and the memory now resurfaced with brutal clarity, merging with his worst fears about Afrah.

What if she was with Vishal right now? Could she be kissing him, letting him touch her the way Sohail feared? His mind painted the image in stark, unbearable detail—Afrah’s small, delicate frame pressed up against Vishal’s muscular body, her hands gripping his shoulders as their lips met hungrily. He imagined her blushing face, those soft lips parting for him, the heat between them palpable. The thought of Vishal’s strong hands sliding down her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, then slipping lower—it felt too real, too vivid.

Sohail could almost hear the soft, intimate sounds of their lips moving together, the whispered breaths, the quiet gasps of pleasure. His heart pounded painfully, his mind running wild with jealousy as he pictured Vishal pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together, the tension between them unbearable. His insecurities painted a picture of Afrah giving herself to another man, her soft moans blending with the imagined sounds of their heated kiss, their hands exploring each other with reckless abandon.

His grip on the phone tightened further as the images overwhelmed him. Could Afrah be doing this right now, as he sat helpless, miles away? His mind, spiraling into paranoia, couldn’t let go of the possibility, and the vividness of the scene left him feeling consumed by rage and fear.

His thoughts interrupted by phone ringing.

Sohail's heart raced as he listened to Afrah’s voice, a mixture of relief and dread flooding through him. “Sorry, it’s been a hectic day, she said, her tone laced with exhaustion. “I barely stepped outside the meeting room. It’s all paperwork and client calls.”
 

What are you doing now?” he asked, hoping for something that would anchor his mind away from his spiraling thoughts.

“I’m at the hotel poolside,”she replied, her voice light but busy. 

Just then, he heard a male voice in the background, calling her name. His stomach dropped. “Who was that?” he demanded, the edge creeping into his tone despite himself.

“It’s Aman,”she replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “He’s inviting all to join the group for dinner.”


I will call you later,she said .


Afrah's call didn't gave him that much relief but it escalated his insecurity.
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What vishal thinks about afrah ( love Or lust)?. Both pics and update are hot.
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