Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust

[Nesamanikumar]

Nice fantasy

[Zoz34]

Excellent update

Lovely update

Awesome bro

Nice , waiting for next

Superb narration
Keep it up

Thanks

[Zoz34]

Your writing skills are awesome! I am very sure every reader must now become Vishal themselves. I was almost assuming Afrah would tease him more by going one step beyond. But anyways, great stuff! Looking forward for more HEATTT...

Sure man thanks ,many more of such erotic scenes will continue

[Manikandarajesh]

Good updates

[Roxrix11]

Nice narration pls next update

[Zoz34]

Good updates

Nice narration pls next update

Thanks

[Zoz34]

[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Sohail sat in his dimly lit room, the soft glow of his phone casting shadows across the walls. The familiar ringtone echoed in the stillness, a stark contrast to the pounding of his heart. It was their usual time to talk, but Afrah hadn’t called. That nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach returned, a persistent whisper of doubt that had been creeping up on him lately.

He dialed her number.

The phone rang once… twice… three times. No answer.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, reverberating in the quiet space around him. He tried again. Still nothing. On the third try, the call finally connected, but what came through felt off.

"Hello?" Afrah's voice came through the speaker, breathless and shaky, the sound almost drowning under a soft rush of water in the background. It wasn’t just her usual tired tone; there was a rasping edge that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Afrah? What’s going on? You sound... out of breath," he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but the tremor betrayed him.

"Nothing," she replied too quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Just... just tired from work, you know?"

Sohail's brow furrowed, his pulse quickening as he listened intently. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint drip of water echoing in the background. "You didn’t answer the first two times. Were you busy?"

There was a pause, a beat too long, before she finally spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was in the shower."

His heart sank. She had used that excuse before, and it always seemed to come at odd times. He swallowed hard, the air thickening in his throat. The way she spoke—her breath hitching, almost like a moan—triggered his worst fears.

"Are you sure everything’s okay, Afrah?" he asked, lowering his voice, attempting to pierce through the suffocating tension. "You sound… different."

"I'm fine," she insisted, but the lie hung in the air like an unresolved chord, echoing painfully. "I’ve just had a long day."

Sohail's mind raced, questions tumbling over themselves, but before he could press further, he heard her voice soften. "I'm really tired. Can we talk tomorrow, please? I just need some rest."

He opened his mouth to protest, the protestations dying on his lips as she continued, "Goodnight, Sohail."

The call ended abruptly with a soft click, leaving a haunting silence in its wake. The silence of his room felt heavier than before, amplifying the quiet thud of his heartbeat. He stared at his phone’s dark screen, the faint hum of the evening surrounding him, but it couldn’t drown out the unease that gnawed at him. Her breathless tone, the hurried excuse, the sudden end—it all echoed in his mind, an unsettling melody he couldn’t escape.



Afrah :
At Afrah' home
After sending Vishal her racy pics

Afrah’s breath quickened, her body humming with a heady mix of excitement and desire. She slowly slid her trousers down, her eyes catching the mirror’s reflection. The soft glow of the room highlighted the curve of her hips, her skin flushed with warmth. Her body radiated a deep yearning, her desire evident as her reflection glistened softly, a testament to the effect her own sensuality had on her.

Afrah lay back on her bed, the soft fabric of her sheets cool against her warm skin. Her fair complexion seemed to glow in the dim light, casting a soft, alluring sheen as she stretched out. The silver chain still adorned her waist, glinting faintly, its delicate beads tracing the gentle curve of her hips. She couldn’t help but admire how the cool metal contrasted with her soft, fair skin.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
Her hand slowly drifted from her waist, fingers brushing over the cool silver as she moved lower. The sensation of the chain under her fingertips sent shivers through her body, a delicate tease against her smooth skin. Her fingers trailed lightly down, tracing her stomach, each touch slow and deliberate, before reaching lower, just skimming the edge of her thigh ,to her pussy.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, her body bathed in the soft light, the curve of her waist accentuated by the chain. Her fair skin seemed even more luminous in the low light, her every movement drawing attention to the way the chain framed her body.

With a soft, deliberate touch, her hand ventured lower, her fingers teasing over her inner thigh, her skin warm beneath her fingertips. The silver chain swayed slightly with each movement, a sensual reminder of her own allure.


She bit her lips, the soft pink hue contrasting against her warm skin, a flush of anticipation spreading across her cheeks. Her fingers, delicate and nimble, ventured inside her wet pussy , the subtle 'squelch"echoing softly in the stillness of the room. Each movement created a wet sound, a tantalizing "squelch" that filled the air, mingling with the hushed whispers of the night.

At first, she moved slowly, savoring the exquisite sensations that coursed through her. Each gentle stroke sent an electrifying shiver through her body, igniting her skin as it awoke with heightened sensitivity. The warmth of her body intensified, heat pooling deep within her, demanding exploration. She could feel the slickness of her skin glistening under the dim light, each touch igniting a fire deep inside her, urging her to surrender completely.

[img]<a href=[/img]" />

As the heat built, her movements quickened, fingers dancing with urgent intent as she explored every nerve of her pussu, every sensitive spot. Her fingertips glided over her soft skin, teasing and caressing with growing fervor. She fought to suppress the soft "gasps" that threatened to escape her lips, each breath a desperate whisper. Tiny 'sighs' slipped out—soft and breathy—filling the air with sounds both vulnerable and intoxicating, creating a melody of intimacy that enveloped her.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
The rhythm of her pleasure began to rise, her 'gasps' intertwining with quiet 'moans' that spilled from her lips, rich and melodic, reverberating in the dim light. The wet sounds of her pussy became a sensuous symphony, each squelch a testament to her arousal, an enticing soundtrack to her exploration.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

With every stroke, she lost herself deeper in the sensations, her body arching in response to the waves of pleasure washing over her. Her heart raced, a steady thump echoing in her ears, matching the urgency in her movements. She could feel the tension coiling within her, each gasp punctuating the air, mingling with her soft cries that echoed in the quiet, creating a heady atmosphere thick with desire.

 As her breath quickened, the wet sounds and the music of her 'moans' spiraled higher, wrapping around her like a warm embrace, leading her toward the precipice of bliss, where she could finally let go and succumb to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that awaited her.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of her phone pierced the silence, jolting her back to reality. She bit her lip in frustration. Why is he calling now? she thought, her body still thrumming with need. The persistent vibration of the phone on her nightstand interrupted her bliss, and she groaned softly, torn between the urge to answer and the desire to continue.

The phone rang again, and she clenched her fists, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling within her. God, not now.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. God, can’t he just wait?She let it ring a few more times, feeling the heat pooling in her belly, the last remnants of her bliss lingering just out of reach. The phone rang again, and annoyance flickered through her. 

As the third call came through, the annoyance transformed into a sense of urgency. Reluctantly, she reached for her phone, her breath hitching as she fought the urge to simply ignore it. With a sigh, she swiped to answer, forcing her voice to sound steady despite the distraction.
 she reluctantly answered, her voice coming out breathless and shaky. “Hello?” 

“Afrah? What’s going on? You sound... out of breath,” Sohail’s voice came through, filled with concern. She winced at his perceptiveness. 

“Nothing,” she replied too quickly, her heart racing as she tried to mask her distraction. “Just... just tired from work, you know?” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

“You didn’t answer the first two times. Were you busy?” His question sent a ripple of anxiety through her. 

There was a pause, the silence stretching out like an unwelcome guest. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to be honest. “I was in the shower,” she whispered, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

“Are you sure everything’s okay, Afrah?” he asked, the weight of his concern pressing down on her. She hated that he could read her so easily, but she couldn’t let him know. 

"I'm fine," she insisted, the words tumbling out, though they felt hollow. The lie hung in the air like an unresolved chord, echoing painfully in her mind. “I’ve just had a long day.”

His voice softened, and she could sense his worry deepening. “I'm really tired. Can we talk tomorrow, please? I just need some rest,” she said, desperation creeping into her tone. I need to escape this moment.


“Goodnight, Sohail,” she added quickly, not waiting for his response. The instant she hung up, a rush of urgency surged within her. Her fingers found their way back to her body, seeking the familiar warmth, and she felt the rhythm return.

As her fingers moved with increasing urgency, her mind drifted, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. Her breath hitched, and in that hazy space, her imagination went to -Vishal. She could almost feel his thick fingers inside her, filling her deeply. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine, her body reacting as if it was truly him, his rough touch igniting every nerve.

The heat inside her grew fiercer, her imagination making her feel as though Vishal was there with her, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm, knowing just how to unravel her. The idea of his strong hands, so much bigger than her own, exploring her pussy overwhelmed her senses. It made every stroke feel more intense, each wet squelch a reminder of her growing desire for him.

Her movements quickened, fingers moving faster, trying to keep up with the arousal surging through her. The fantasy of Vishal’s presence made her gasps louder, each suppressed breath escaping her lips in soft moans, barely contained in the quiet of the night. Her body responded eagerly to the thought of him, her pleasure heightening as her mind clung to the image of his thick, calloused hands.

With every stroke, her body writhed beneath the sheets, her heart racing, a steady thump in her chest as she imagined him driving her closer and closer to the edge. Her gasps turned into breathy cries, the wet sounds blending with her soft moans, creating an intoxicating symphony of intimacy that surrounded her.

As she lost herself in the fantasy, the pleasure swelled, her mind fully convinced it was Vishal who was there with her, teasing her, pushing her over the edge. She surrendered to the moment, every pulse of her body responding to the imagined touch, the heat between them so real in her mind that her body craved more, needing to reach that peak. And as her breath quickened, the pleasure spiraled higher, wrapping around her until there was nothing left but the intense sensation that took over her completely. sharp knock sounded on the door.

"Afrah? Beta, are you in there?" her ammi’s voice called from the other side, pulling her violently from the edge of pleasure.

Afrah froze, her heart racing, caught between the urgency of her body's need and the sudden reality of her ammi standing outside her room.

Few moments later

Afrah lay still for a moment, her body tense with frustration. Her ammi’s voice had pulled her back to reality, but it wasn’t just the interruption that irritated her. It was the fact that she wasn’t alone in the room tonight. Some last-minute guests had shown up—her parents' old friends—who had missed their train and were now staying in the house. And of course, she had been the one asked to give up her room.

Why couldn’t they have just booked a hotel? The thought ran through her mind bitterly as she shifted uncomfortably under the sheets, still aroused and now deeply annoyed. She could hear the low murmur of voices down the hall, the reminder of their presence gnawing at her patience. She hadn’t had a moment of privacy all evening, forced to tiptoe around the house while trying to suppress the heat building inside her.

Now, lying there, her body still humming from the pleasure that had been so abruptly cut off, she couldn’t help but feel resentful. She had needed this release, and the night had been hers—until it wasn’t. Her skin still tingled with the leftover sensations, the frustration only making her need sharper, more unbearable. 

Why now? she thought, clenching her fists into the sheets. The guests had turned her sanctuary into a crowded space, and it left her feeling trapped, restless, and even more horny than before. The thought of their presence made it impossible to continue, though the desire hadn’t gone anywhere.

She rolled over, burying her face into her pillow with a soft groan, trying to push down the frustration. The night was ruined, but the lingering arousal still thrummed under her skin, making it impossible to find peace.


Just as Afrah was trying to calm herself, her phone pinged. The sound echoed in the quiet room, and she glanced at it, feeling a surge of curiosity. It was a message from Vishal. 

"Here’s your return gift."

She hesitated for a second before unlocking her phone. Her heart skipped a beat as the image loaded on the screen. There he was—Vishal—his body on full display. His sculpted muscles glistened in the dim light of his photo, each line of his physique sharp and defined, his abs a chiseled masterpiece. Her eyes trailed over his chest, his strong arms, and the subtle flex of his biceps. He was all muscle, and she hated how much she found him utterly irresistible.

The sight made her body react instantly, her earlier frustration flaring up into a heightened arousal. The desire she had tried to push down surged back, her breath catching in her throat. His body was deliciously tempting, every inch of him screaming sex appeal, and it only made her situation worse.

But along with the arousal came a wave of irritation and anger. Angry at the guests who had invaded her space, at her mother for interrupting her, but most of all—angry at Vishal. The handsome bastard was the root of it all. If it weren’t for him and the way he drove her insane with lust, she wouldn’t be in this mess right now, lying here, frustrated and on edge.

Still, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the photo. He looked so good, too good, and it was infuriating. Her fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to delete the picture, to block him out of her mind completely—but instead, she found herself staring at him longer. She knew she shouldn’t, but there was something about him that kept pulling her in. 

So sexy, she thought bitterly, her frustration mounting. She hated how much she wanted him, hated how he could stir up these feelings with just a single picture. 

Afrah clenched her phone tightly, her emotions swirling between need and fury, her body aching for release while her mind raged at how helpless she felt against Vishal’s effect on her. 
Slowly, she began rubbing her thighs together, desperate for some kind of relief without making a sound. The sensation was maddening, teasing her, but not quite enough to push her over the edge. She bit her l
ip, holding back the groan that threatened to escape, hoping her ammi would leave soon.


To be continued 

[Ananthukutty]

Good update

[DuraiBabu]

The way the heat is getting built up seems like Arfah will pound upon Vishal the next day at office. Regular S*x stories are common and anyone can write them! The way how she could tease Vishal but eventually getting aroused is the key in this story! Don't let Arfah submit so soon...

[Roxrix11]

Let's see what unflod

[Zoz34]

Continuation 
Next day 

Afrah sat at her desk, her fingers aimlessly tapping on the keyboard, but her focus was miles away. Every slight shift in her seat reminded her of the aching, dripping wetness between her thighs, her arousal clinging to her skin, making her squirm in frustration. She had never felt this on edge before—her body practically begging for release, and yet, she was trapped in the office, surrounded by people, unable to do a damn thing about it.

The tight denim of her jeans only made things worse. Every subtle movement rubbed against her in the worst way possible, the fabric pressing against her, amplifying the irritation. The friction wasn’t enough to relieve the throbbing tension; instead, it made her more uncomfortable, making her feel even more wet. She could practically feel the damp heat seeping through, making her feel more aware of how desperate her body was for an escape.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
She had been so close to relief this morning, planning to take a long shower and ease the tension that had been building since last night. But the stupid guests had ruined that plan, and now she was left stewing in her own frustration, trapped in her jeans, unable to do anything about the burning heat inside her. 

Her mind kept drifting back to Vishal, to the thirst trap she had sent him. That teasing photo had been her way of luring him in, making him think of her all night, but now she was the one suffering. The thought of his eyes roaming over her picture, imagining his reaction, only made her wetter. The slickness between her thighs had grown unbearable, her body constantly reminding her of what she hadn’t finished, what she craved.

God, I’m so wet, she thought bitterly, her thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to ease the ache. But it was no use—the denim clung to her, trapping the heat, making her even more agitated. She couldn’t focus on anything except the lingering pulse of need, the sharp reminder of how close she had been to release this morning, and how far away it seemed now.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
To make matters worse, Vishal was nearby. She hadn’t seen him yet, but she knew he was close, and the knowledge of that only made her heart race faster. He was the cause of all this—the smoldering tension, the building frustration. The thought of him, with his delicious muscles and that knowing smile, made her head spin with a mix of desire and anger. She wanted him, and she hated how much power he had over her.

She shifted in her seat again, biting her lip to stifle a groan as the wetness only seemed to grow, her jeans rubbing mercilessly against her, heightening her frustration. She clenched her fists, desperate for some kind of release, but knowing there was nothing she could do here. All she could do was wait—wait for the moment she saw Vishal, knowing that when they finally crossed paths, the tension between them would be impossible to ignore.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

Afrah’s mind spiraled as she locked eyes with Vishal. Thoughts raced through her head, wild and intoxicating. She imagined launching herself at him, their lips crashing together, feeling the hard planes of his body pressing against hers. The heat of his skin ignited her desire, and in a flash of madness, she fantasized about slapping him for the frustration he had caused her, all the while begging him to make her cum.

The very thought of him taking her right there in the office, claiming her in front of everyone, made her pulse quicken and her body thrum with need. The image of him lifting her onto his desk, the thrill of being so exposed yet so desired, sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through her.
[img]<a href=[/img]

But then, her good conscience pulled her back, reminding her of the reality she was bound to. 'Bad Afrah,'she scolded herself. 'You’re engaged.' The name of her fiancé, Sohail, echoed in her mind like a lifeline, grounding her even as her darker thoughts whispered seductive temptations.

Yet, the darker side of her mind fought back, taunting her with memories from their trip to Goa. She recalled the way Vishal’s mouth had felt against hers, the intoxicating taste of him, the way his hands had roamed her body, igniting every nerve ending. His lips on her skin had been electric, and the thought of his mouth exploring her further made her body ache for more. 

'Think about how good it felt,' that darker voice urged. "Think about his lips on your pussy."

Afrah's breath hitched at her imagination, her cheeks flushing with heat as she battled against the tide of her own desires. The conflict raged within her—one part yearning to act on the impulse, to succumb to the wild attraction that drew her to Vishal, while the other fought to remind her of her engagement. 

"No, you are engaged to Sohail," her good conscience insisted, pushing back against the seductive allure of Vishal’s presence. Yet, even as she tried to resist, the images flooded her mind—Vishal head pressed against her thighs as his mouth lick all her wetness.

Her heart raced with the tension, the delicious torment of wanting what she knew she shouldn’t. She clenched her fists, willing herself to regain control, but the lines between right and wrong blurred with every passing moment.

Just as Afrah's thoughts spiraled deeper into temptation, a colleague called out to Vishal, breaking the electric tension that had enveloped them. She felt a wave of relief wash over her as he turned, his attention momentarily diverted, and began walking away. 
. 

'Get a grip, Afrah,' she told herself, but her body betrayed her, yearning for what she couldn't have. Each passing moment felt like a taunt, her arousal still simmering, a hot, restless ache that demanded attention. She was left to battle her own desires, caught between the memory of what she craved and the reality of what she couldn’t pursue.

The day dragged on at the office, each hour stretching into eternity, but nothing could distract Afrah from the ache simmering inside her. Now, lying in bed, she felt a surge of frustration. The guests still hadn’t left, trapping her in this shared room and robbing her of the privacy she desperately craved.

The muffled sounds of laughter and conversation seeped through the walls, heightening her restlessness. She twisted in the sheets, the fabric clinging to her damp skin, and pressed her thighs together in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing heat between her legs. Memories of Vishal flooded her mind—his body, his gaze, the way he made her feel alive and utterly desired.

Every thought of him ignited her senses, leaving her breathless and yearning for his touch. 'What am I going to do?' The fire within her raged, demanding release, yet here she was, confined and frustrated. The enticing memory of his lips on hers, the way he could coax pleasure from her body, sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her.

Afrah closed her eyes, her body aching for the satisfaction she couldn’t have. The tension was unbearable, and she was left to wrestle with her desires, caught between the seductive lure of what she wanted and the reality of her situation. 


----
At home the guest were still there.
Afrah tried to distract herself, but the tension in her body remained palpable. She tossed and turned in bed, her thoughts consumed by the lingering desire that wouldn’t let her be. Just then, her cousin Laiba knocked lightly on the door before entering.

“Hey, you okay?” Laiba ( one of the guest)asked, noticing Afrah’s restless demeanor. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Afrah forced a smile, trying to hide her frustration. “I’m fine. Just tired,” she replied, but the lie felt flimsy, weighed down by the heat pooling in her core.

Laiba stepped further into the room, her curiosity piqued. “Come on, don’t give me that. Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” She lean, her expression teasing and playful.


Afrah gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep her cool as Laiba's presence grated on her nerves. If she knew how horny I am, Afrah thought bitterly, feeling a wave of irritation rise. .

Laiba raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. She stepped closer, her tone teasing. “You know, it’s perfectly normal to have some pre-wedding jitters.”

Afrah swallowed hard, the tension in her body only heightening her frustration. “I’m fine about that,” she said, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. In truth, her thoughts were miles away from Sohail, caught up in a swirl of desire that made her restless, he was not who had stirred it.

“Oh, really? Because it looks like someone has been daydreaming a bit too much about her fiancé,” Laiba teased, crossing her arms with a playful grin. “What’s got you so distracted? Is it the wedding plans or something else?”

Afrah tried to laugh it off, but her voice was tinged with irritation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, the nervousness betraying her.

Laiba stepped closer, her playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “Listen, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. I get it. Planning a wedding can be stressful. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the moments leading up to it.” 


Afrah took a deep breath, her heart racing as she faced the truth. While Sohail was her fiancé, her thoughts had been drawn elsewhere, and the fire igniting within her was not centered on him. “I just want everything to be perfect,” she said .But her mind didn't want think about wedding now ,her mind was at present was concentrated in between her legs.

[Zoz34]

Guys pls leave comments , whether you like it or not ,or any suggestions

[Hotyyhard]

excellent update bro

[Zoz34]

excellent update bro

Thank

[Zoz34]

Next day

Sohail pov:


Sohail stood in the doorway of Afrah's office, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow across the empty desk. His heart sank as he took in the sight of her untouched chair, the papers neatly stacked, and her favorite mug sitting forlornly on the table. A knot tightened in his stomach as he glanced toward Vishal's cabin. Something in his gut twisted with a mixture of unease and jealousy.

He turned to, one of the employees.“Do you know where Afrah went?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Neha looked up from her screen, her brow furrowed in thought. “Oh, she mentioned something about going out with Vishal. I think it was for a meeting or something.”

Sohail’s chest constricted. “With Vishal?” The name felt heavy on his tongue, igniting a fire of jealousy that burned hot and fierce. “Do you know where they went?”

“No, I’m not sure,”* Neha replied, shrugging. 
“But they should be back soon.”

Sohail’s mind raced as he took a step back from the desk. A meeting? With Vishal? He fished his phone from his pocket, his heart pounding as he dialed Afrah’s number. It rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. Frustration bubbled within him, twisting like a vine around his thoughts. 


Sohail stood in the parking lot, staring blankly at the asphalt. Where do I even start? Should I ask Afrah’s friends? But what if they get suspicious? Would they cover for her? They’d have to—especially if it was with a *** man. The thought of it made his stomach churn. The shame it would bring to her family, to her… 

What if they’re in on it? What if they know something and don’t tell me? His mind raced with doubt. Should I talk to Ali and Javed? They’ve been warning me about working women since the beginning. “You can’t trust them,” they say, their words echoing in his mind, gnawing at his confidence.

What’s the point of talking to them? They’d just fuel my insecurities, give me more reasons to doubt her. But what if it’s true? What if she’s betraying me? He clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. 

Maybe I should hire someone? A private investigator, they do that kind of stuff, right? ,many do background check befy marriage right? But then what? How do I even explain that? “Hi, I need you to check if my fiancée is cheating on me.” That sounds insane, doesn’t it? 

What would they think of me? What if I’m wrong? What if I’m just being paranoid? But I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. I need to know. 

Just as he was spiraling deeper into his thoughts, a car approached. His heart raced at the sudden disruption, pulling him from his mental chaos. Who is it? What if it’s her? What if it’s someone with her? 




As Sohail stood frozen in the parking lot, he watched as Afrah emerged from the car, her laughter ringing like music. Vishal followed closely behind, a confident smirk playing on his lips. The sight of Afrah’s radiant smile sent a jolt of unease through him. Should he approach them? 

Then, their eyes met. Afrah’s gaze flickered toward his car, a hint of surprise mixed with something else—was it fear? She stepped forward, her expression shifting as she took in his presence. “What are you doing here?”
she asked, her voice slightly different, almost hesitant. 

“Just wanted to give you this,” he replied, trying to keep his tone steady, his heart racing. “I was nearby your office, so I thought I’d stop by. I tried calling you, but…”

“Sorry, I was busy. An urgent client meeting at Hayat,” she said, her tone sounding genuine, but he couldn’t shake the knot in his stomach.

Vishal leaned casually against the car, arms crossed, a playful glint in his eye. “Your fiancée is our company’s most valuable asset,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “She’s a real gem.”

Sohail felt his jaw tighten at the implications in Vishal’s words. “Valuable, huh?” he retorted, trying to match the same lightheartedness. “Is that why you keep her so busy?”

Vishal chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, we do have a lot of important projects going on. She’s always up for the challenge, aren’t you, Afrah?”

Afrah nodded, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks, which only made Sohail’s heart churn even more. He struggled to keep his composure, searching her face for any signs of deceit, any indication that she was hiding something. But she looked genuine, and yet…

Now inside his car alone:


 

 As he gripped the steering wheel, he felt his knuckles whiten.something had caught Sohail's eye during their conversation—a faint mark smeared on Vishal’s collar. His heart plummeted, a chill running down his spine. Was it really a lipstick mark? The doubt gnawed at him, filling his chest with a heavy dread. Had he really seen it clearly?What if it was her lipstick? The question echoed relentlessly, but there was still that nagging uncertainty—what if it wasn’t? 

He turned the ignition, the engine purring to life, but his thoughts were a tempest. "Were they really at a meeting at Hayat Residency?' A sense of betrayal clawed at him. Had they shared more than just professional conversation? The image of them together loomed in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the suffocating feeling that there was something more going on.

What if they were kissing? The thought struck like a physical blow, his breath hitching in his throat. He couldn’t remember seeing her with any lipstick on before she left, but how could he be sure? Doubt twisted like a knife, cutting deeper into his already frayed nerves. 

He slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling over. Why was he even considering this? He wanted to trust her, but with each passing moment, the gnawing insecurities compounded, suffocating any remnants of faith he had in their relationship.

How could he confront her about it? If he asked her, would she deny it? Would her friends cover for her? The thought that they might be complicit in some secret affair sent another wave of anger and despair crashing over him.

His thoughts spiraled as he pulled out of the parking lot, the road ahead blurred by the haze of uncertainty. He needed answers, but every option seemed fraught with danger. The mark loomed large in his mind, a haunting symbol of everything he feared, leaving him feeling lost and vulnerable.

What happened earlier :

Afrah pov:
Frustration has been piling up since that night ,it has been two days and still she hasn't been able to relief herself.In her office again 
Afrah sat at her desk, the fabric of her long skirt hugging her thighs in a way that felt both restrictive and inviting. Every slight movement sent a ripple of sensation through her body, awakening her senses to the heat pooling deep within her. The hum of the office buzzed around her, but all she could focus on was the ache that had settled between her legs, a persistent reminder of her unfulfilled desires.

Across the room, Vishal stood casually against the wall, his muscular frame framed by the soft glow of the overhead lights. His shirt clung to him in all the right places, accentuating his toned arms and broad shoulders. The way he leaned in toward his coworker, laughing with an ease that sent a pang of jealousy through her, ignited a fire inside her. 

"What a bastard,"she thought, feeling a rush of heat flush her cheeks. The sight of him flirting so openly while she sat there, restless and yearning, made her insides churn. Each laugh that escaped his lips was like a taunt, drawing her attention even further.

Afrah’s heart raced as she envisioned herself striding over to him, her body electric with the urge to confront him. She imagined slapping that smug grin off his face, then pulling him close and capturing his lips with hers, their mouths moving together in a heated dance of passion. Just the thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt her breath quicken.

Her pulse throbbed in time with the heat pooling between her thighs, and she shifted in her seat, the dampness growing more unbearable. The air felt thick around her, charged with an energy that only heightened her frustration. Every flicker of her eyes toward him was a reminder of how completely he consumed her thoughts. 

'Why did he have to look so infuriatingly good?'The jealousy simmered within her, coiling tighter as she watched him effortlessly charm the other woman. Each laugh they shared was like a physical blow, leaving her more desperate for his attention.

Afrah’s thoughts spiraled deeper into fantasy, her imagination painting vivid images of what could happen if she just dared to act. She envisioned him pushing her against the wall, the cool surface against her back contrasting with the warmth of his body pressing into hers. She could almost feel the weight of him, the heat radiating from his skin, as their mouths met in a desperate kiss.

She bit her lip, tasting the salt of her skin and feeling the dampness grow more intense. The thought of his hands roaming her body, of him exploring her curves, made her pulse race. She was lost in a haze of desire, her body demanding something she couldn’t provide here, in this suffocating office.

Just then, their eyes locked, and he shot her that cocky grin—the kind that made her heart race and
 her breath hitch. 

After sometime:

Afrah stood by the coffee machine,then, she felt him—before she even saw him. 

“Morning,” Vishal’s voice dripped with playful arrogance. 
He moved closer, his hand brushing hers as he reached for the sugar, the light contact sending a jolt of electricity through her. She clenched her thighs, trying to ignore the sudden rush of arousal. His voice dropped to a near whisper, teasing her, “You know, I’ve been thinking about that picture you sent the other night. You looked... irresistible.”

Afrah’s breath hitched. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her skin tingled where his hand had grazed hers. The memory of the photo she had sent two nights ago, clad in a waist chain, flashed in her mind. It had been a bold move, but now, with Vishal standing so close, reminding her of it, her body reacted instantly.

Vishal smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. His hand, now bolder, rested lightly on her waist, his fingers teasing the fabric of her skirt. “That waist chain…,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

Afrah’s throat went dry. His words, his touch, everything about him was driving her crazy. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs, her pussy now dripping wet, her arousal reaching unbearable levels. “I—” she tried to respond, but her words failed her.

Vishal leaned in closer, his lips just inches from her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “I wanted to kiss your waist with that chain on you... ,” he whispered, his fingers now gently tracing the curve of her waist. 

Her whole body trembled. She wanted to slap him, yell at him for driving her insane, but at the same time, the idea of his mouth on her, of him taking her right here, was too tempting to ignore. She clenched her fists, trying to regain control, but the way he looked at her—hungry, possessive—was making it impossible. Her breath quickened as the heat between her thighs grew, her pussy throbbing, desperate for release.

His fingers slid slightly lower, dangerously close to her hips now, and Afrah’s body instinctively pressed toward him. “You look so irresistible when you dress embrace your sluty side,and that pic ” he teased, his voice dripping with smugness. “ It's like you are enticing me ,play with sexy waist of yours”

Her legs felt weak. Her mind was a haze of lust and frustration, and the thought of him touching her, of him making her cum right here in the break room, was making her dizzy. But just as his fingers grazed her hip, dangerously close to the hem of her skirt, a voice rang out.

“Vishal! Are you in here?”

Afrah’s heart stopped. It was their supervisor. Vishal immediately stepped back, though his eyes never left hers, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Saved by the bell, huh?” he whispered before casually turning toward the door.

Afrah’s entire body burned with frustration. Her pulse raced, her pussy still throbbing, dripping wet, craving the release she had been denied once again. She stood frozen, breathless, her skin tingling with the memory of his touch. 

Vishal glanced back at her as he walked out, his smirk full of promise. “We’re not done,” he mouthed, leaving her trembling, desperate, an
d impossibly turned on.


Afrah sat at her desk, her mind a swirling mix of frustration and desire. The relentless heat between her thighs had been building all morning, but her encounter with Vishal by the coffee machine made her pussy burn like furnace. His teasing words still echoed in her ears, the memory of his touch making her body tingle. She tried to focus on her work, but it was impossible. Her body craved release, the wetness between her legs a constant reminder of what she had denied herself for too long.

Her eyes drifted to an item on her desk, something innocent , but in her current state, it sparked a bold, wicked idea. A daring thrill rushed through her, and without a second thought, she stood and made her way to the washroom. Her legs felt weak, as she walk she could feel her wetness rubbing,her heart racing with both excitement and anticipation.

The washroom was empty. Afrah let out a small sigh of relief as she stepped inside the stall, locking the door behind her. Her breath came in short bursts, and she leaned against the wall for a moment, gathering the courage to act on the bold thought that had taken hold of her. Slowly, she lifted her long skirt, feeling the cool air hit her heated skin. 

Her panties were already damp, soaked through from hours of unrelenting arousal. She bit her lip as her fingers grazed over the slick fabric, feeling just how wet she had become. The heat between her thighs was unbearable now, her body throbbing with need. Her thoughts wandered back to Vishal’s words—how he had whispered about wanting kiss her waist , how irresistible she had looked. She couldn’t help but imagine his hands on her, his fingers touching her where she ached the most.

A low, shaky breath escaped her lips as she moved her hand beneath her panties, her fingers slipping effortlessly over the slickness there. She could feel how wet she was, her body ready, desperate. The sensation made her knees weak, and she leaned against the wall for support, her heart pounding as she indulged in the forbidden act. 

With trembling hands, she grabbed the small perfume bottle she had brought with her, her arousal heightening at the thought of what she was about to do. Her wetness made it easy as she pressed the it against slit, her body responding immediately. She stifled a moan, biting her lip to keep any sound from escaping. The sensation sent waves of heat through her, her face flushed as she began to move, slow at first, testing the waters, before speeding up as her need grew.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
Each movement sent sparks of pleasure coursing through her body, her slickness making it almost too easy, too good. The wet sound of her arousal filled her ears, each stroke heightening the tension inside her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. The bottle and her finger were now coated with her cream.Her breath hitched as she quickened her pace, her body trembling with every thrust, her thighs quivering as her wetness coated the object and her fingers.

She was lost in the moment, her mind spiraling into pure lust, her body aching for release. Beads of sweat formed at her temples, her face flushed from both the heat and the effort of suppressing her moans. Her breath was shallow, ragged, and her body trembled with the intensity of her desire. Her pussy clenched around the bottle, slick and dripping, her muscles tightening as she teetered on the edge of bliss.

But then, just as she was about to give in completely, her world shattered. Footsteps echoed outside the stall, the unmistakable sound of someone entering the washroom. Afrah froze, her body still quivering with arousal, her breath caught in her throat. Panic shot through her as the footsteps grew closer, her heart pounding in her ears. She slowed her movements, trying to calm her breathing, her entire body trembling from the effort of stopping herself.

She listened, her pulse racing, trying to gauge whether the person was leaving or staying. Her wetness still clung to her, her body aching for the release she had been so close to, but now she had no choice but to wait. She pressed her thighs together, trying to stifle the throbbing between them, her breath shallow and uneven. The heat in her body hadn’t diminished—if anything, it had grown worse with the tension of almost being caught.

Three girls had entered the washroom, their chatter filling the small space. One of them stepped into the stall beside hers, and just as Afrah tried to calm herself, she heard the rush of water. 

Something was wrong—the toilet next to her had malfunctioned, and water began spilling onto the floor, a loud, gushing noise that sent her pulse skyrocketing. Panic set in as the water started creeping toward her stall, quickly soaking the floor.

In a desperate hurry, Afrah adjusted her long skirt, frantically smoothing it down. But in her rush, she forgot to remove the small cylindrical bottle she had placed inside her pussy. It remained nestled in her wetness, each slight movement making her acutely aware of its presence, heightening her arousal despite the chaos around her.

The water was now flooding into her stall, leaving her no choice. She had to get out fast before anyone noticed her flushed face or worse—what she'd been doing. She stumbled out of the stall, her legs shaky, the sensation of the object inside her making every step a challenge.

As the water spilled out onto the washroom floor, the girls were too distracted by the malfunctioning toilet to pay her much attention. Afrah hurried to the sink, quickly washing her hands while trying to act normal. But each movement caused the object inside her to shift, sending waves of sensation through her body, intensifying the slickness between her thighs.

Her breath hitched, and she had to grip the sink to steady herself, her cheeks burning as the sound of water gushing behind her filled the room. The girls were still preoccupied, giving her the chance to slip out unnoticed, though she could feel the object teasing her with every step.

Her body still buzzed with frustration, her desire far from satisfied, as she hurried out of the washroom. The pulsing sensation inside her was maddening, but she had to keep it
 together. For now, at least.

Afrah sat stiffly at the conference table in the hotel conference room, her body tense and her mind far from the presentation the client was droning on about. The air-conditioned room felt stifling, her focus repeatedly drifting to the persistent throbbing between her legs, her pussy clenching around the perfume bottle she had placed inside earlier, hoping for some semblance of relief. It hadn’t helped. If anything, every subtle movement she made against the chair sent a tantalizing shiver through her body, a cruel reminder of the unsated hunger that was consuming her from within.

Her eyes briefly flicked toward Vishal, seated beside her. His warmth radiated in the narrow space between them, his casual posture only heightening her awareness of him. The proximity was maddening—his presence alone, so near yet so untouchable, ignited the heat she had been struggling to control for days. She tried to shift discreetly in her seat, but every slight adjustment sent another wave of sensation to her core, intensifying the ache that refused to be ignored.

Focus,she chided herself, but her body had other plans. Vishal’s arm brushed lightly against hers as he shifted in his seat, and the simple contact shot through her like electricity. Oh God, this is unbearable,she thought, biting her lip as her body betrayed her, the wetness between her thighs growing with every passing second.

Vishal’s fingers casually tapped on the table, but she couldn’t help imagining them elsewhere—tracing her skin, playing with her the way her mind was begging him to. She swallowed hard, her breath shaky as she fought to keep her composure.[img]<a href=[/img]" />




She briefly recalled the moment when she’d received his message just hours earlier. “Meet me at my cabin." And now They were at the hotel for a client meeting, and the tension had been unbearable since she arrived. Her heart had raced at the thought of being with him, but despite her better judgment, she had agreed to meet him. She had been frustrated and restless, wanting to resist, yet drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Now, as they sat side by side in the plush hotel conference room, she could feel the full force of her decision weighing on her. His knee brushed against hers under the table, sending a shiver up her spine. Her pulse quickened, the heat pooling low in her belly, threatening to spill over.

As the meeting dragged on, Afrah's mind kept wandering back to the ache pulsing between her thighs. She shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position, but every movement sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body. Suddenly, she felt Vishal's hand brush against her thigh, a light touch, almost accidental. Her breath caught in her throat, and she tensed, her eyes darting to him.

He didn’t look at her, keeping his attention fixed on the client, but his fingers lingered, casually resting on her thigh as if testing her. The warmth of his hand burned through the fabric of her long skirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Instinctively, Afrah squeezed her legs together, the pressure from her thighs pushing against the bottle inside her, making her pussy throb even harder. The sudden increase in sensation made her stomach clench, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan.

Her heart pounded in her chest, every nerve in her body attuned to Vishal’s subtle movements. His fingers began to trace slow circles on her thigh, the teasing touch almost unbearable. Oh God, stop, her mind screamed, but her body was betraying her, craving more. Each touch made her wetter, the slickness inside her growing, intensifying the friction of the bottle pressing deeper. She was on the edge, her breath shallow, and it was taking everything in her power not to let out the moan that threatened to escape her lips.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, trying to focus on the conversation that seemed like a distant hum compared to the roaring desire filling her. Vishal’s hand inched higher, just enough to send another shockwave through her body. She was struggling, her composure hanging by a thread, the tension in her body coiled tight, ready to snap.

Each second felt like torture, and the pressure on her pussy was becoming unbearable. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Her thighs clenched harder around his hand, adding to the friction, and she could feel herself teetering on the brink of release. If he didn’t stop, she was afraid she might lose all control.



The client continued their presentation, but the words faded into the background. All she could think about was the overwhelming tension between them, the way his presence made her ache for something more than just a professional meeting. She cursed herself for letting him get under her skin, but it was too late—the heat was unbearable, and the hotel room felt stifling.

As they entered the boutique, Afrah’s pulse quickened. Her mind was still reeling from the sensations in the conference room, and now this. The racks of dresses seemed to taunt her with their sheer fabrics, daring cuts, and figure-hugging silhouettes. Vishal, as always, had impeccable taste in racy, seductive attire. He liked to doll her up in things that showed off every curve, every line of her body.

Her breath hitched as he stepped closer, his voice dripping with a promise. “I can’t wait to see you in one of these,” he murmured, his gaze traveling down her body like a caress, making her skin tingle. The heat in his eyes only intensified the throbbing between her legs. She fought the blush creeping up her cheeks, biting her lip as the images of his hands on her, the feel of his touch, flooded her mind.

But beneath the anticipation and excitement, there was a growing discomfort that she couldn’t ignore. The bottle she had foolishly inserted earlier was still inside her, pressing intimately against her soaked pussy. Every step, every movement, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her, heightening her arousal but also making it harder to focus.

God, I need to get rid of this, she thought, but even that idea sent a wicked thrill through her. The thought of being filled, of walking around with that secret while Vishal stood so close, made her wetter. Her panties were already slick, and the friction between her thighs only seemed to make it worse. She shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure, but the subtle movement only caused the bottle to press deeper, sending another wave of sensation through her core.

Afrah’s hands trembled slightly as she ran her fingers along the fabrics of the dresses on display, pretending to be focused, but her body was betraying her at every turn. She could feel her arousal dripping, her wetness undeniable, and she cursed herself for being so foolish. "Why did I do this?"she thought, but the answer was clear—because it felt dangerous, thrilling, uncontrollable.

Vishal, unaware of the turmoil inside her, leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Pick something red,” he whispered, his fingers grazing the small of her back. The light touch sent shivers up her spine, and she barely suppressed a moan. Her body was hyper-sensitive, and his proximity was only making it worse. She wanted him—right here, right now. But she also wanted control, and the tension between the two was driving her mad.


As Afrah slipped the red figure-hugging tube dress off the rack, a shiver of anticipation coursed through her. She bit her lip, glancing at Vishal with a teasing smile that barely masked the heat pooling in her belly. His eyes lit up as he took in the sight of her, the desire evident in his gaze. 

“Oh, that will look incredible on you,”he said, his voice thick with lust. “It’ll showcase every sexy curve.” She felt herself flush under his intense scrutiny, her body responding to him in ways that left her breathless.

Stepping closer, he reached out, his finger tracing a slow, deliberate path over her midriff, then trailing to her back. Each touch ignited sparks of sensation, sending tingles racing down her spine. 
“What’s the occasion for this dress?” she asked, his breath warm against her ear, stirring the fire within her.She knew ,he had something wicked plan for her.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied."Beside a boyfriend doesn't need reason to buy his gf a gift ."


“I’m not your girlfriend,” she shot back playfully, though her voice quivered with barely contained excitement.

“For Sara and my parents, you are,”he said, his smirk infuriatingly confident as his fingers trailed down her side, just grazing the edge of her hip. His touch was driving her mad, the slow, deliberate way he moved his hands, as though he was savoring every second of her reaction.

Her legs squeezed together reflexively, sending an even stronger pulse of pressure to her already aching core. The sensation was maddening, especially with the perfume bottle still nestled inside her, amplifying every movement, every touch. She fought to suppress the moan threatening to escape, but it was almost too much. The more he teased, the harder it became to keep her composure.

“You’re a wicked man, you know that,” she breathed, her body trembling with need as she glanced up at him, her cheeks flushed with heat. She wanted him to stop, but at the same time, she wanted him to keep going, to push her over the edge she had been teetering on for days.
She forced a smile, her cheeks flushed, and nodded as she grabbed a red figure-hugging dress from the rack. Her fingers trembled slightly as she clutched the fabric, knowing that with each step toward the dressing room, she was walking a fine line between restraint and surrender. And Vishal’s teasing smile wasn’t helping.

As she entered the dressing room, her heart raced. She quickly removed the bottle from inside her, biting back a gasp as the cool air hit her wetness, and the sudden absence made her even more needy. She stood there for a moment, legs trembling, trying to calm the overwhelming desire that had taken over her body.

This is insane, she thought, staring at her flushed reflection in the mirror. I need to get a grip. But as she slipped into the red dress, feeling the tight fabric hug her curves, the thought of walking out and seeing the look on Vishal’s face made her pulse quicken all over again.









 She stepped into the changing room, her fingers instinctively brushing against her thighs, reminding herself of how much she craved him.

Inside, she couldn’t resist touching herself, though she had to suppress her moans. After a few teasing moments, she emerged from the changing room, deciding to keep the red dress for a special occasion. As she stepped back into the main area, she could see Vishal’s disappointment flashing across his face.

“What gives?” he pouted, his playful demeanor unable to hide his frustration.

“You’ll have to behave if you want to see me in that dress,” she teased, leaning casually against the wall, her body effortlessly accentuating her curves.

“What if I don’t want to behave?” he challenged, stepping closer until their bodies were nearly touching. His voice dripped with temptation, and she felt her heart race.

“Then no dress,” she replied, attempting to sound defiant, but his closeness made her dizzy with desire.

He leaned in, their faces inches apart. “Will you wear that chain underneath the dress?” he whispered, the words sending a wave of heat rushing through her. The thought of the chain against her skin, hidden but present, ignited her arousal even further.

“There’s no point wearing it since it won’t show,” she managed to say, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her excitement.

“But I want you to wear it,” he insisted, his fingers dancing lightly down her arm, igniting her senses. “I want to know you’re mine, even if it’s hidden.”

“You’re insatiable,”she teased, biting her lip as she leaned into him slightly, their breaths mingling in the charged air between them.

“Only for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck, causing her to shiver and let out a small gasp. “Now, are you going to give me a show, or keep me in suspense?”

Afrah’s pulse quickened, and she could feel the heat radiating between them, the tension almost unbearable. “Maybe I’ll give you a sneak peek if you behave,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry, a challenge hanging in the air.

“Oh, I can definitely behave,” he replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “But you’ll have to make it worth my while.”


As they stood there, the world around them faded, leaving just the two of them in a bubble of intoxicating tension. Every glance, every touch ignited her desire, making it almost unbearable to be apart from him. The air crackled with electricity, and she knew
 that the moment they were alone, she would surrender to the overwhelming lust that consumed her.

Afrah stood inches away from Vishal, her heart racing as his presence enveloped her senses. The heady scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a warm, intoxicating blanket, pulling her deeper into the moment. Every inch of her was acutely aware of him—the way his strong jawline accentuated his handsome face, the way his dark eyes glinted with mischief and desire. All her frustrations, her pent-up desires, and the heat of arousal swirled inside her like a furnace, threatening to consume her completely.

He’s too close, she thought, fighting to maintain some semblance of control. The heat radiating off him was almost palpable, and she felt herself drawn to him as if by an invisible force. Her gaze flickered to his lips, full and tempting, igniting a primal urge within her. 
In a moment of unguarded impulse, Afrah lunged forward, capturing his lips with hers in a desperate kiss. The world around them faded away as the kiss deepened, filled with unrestrained hunger. It was as if they were two bodies merging into one, each kiss a promise, each touch a confession of the desires that had been building for far too long. She could taste the sweetness of him, and it sent shivers down her spine, awakening every nerve in her body.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

His strong hands found their way to her soft ass, gripping it firmly, kneading the curves that drove him wild. The sensation sent a rush of pleasure through her, her body responding instinctively to his touch. This is what I’ve been longing for, she thought, feeling the tension in her body melt away as she moaned softly into his mouth. The wet sounds of their kisses echoed in the small boutique, filling the air with an intoxicating blend of passion and urgency.

Every time his fingers squeezed her ass, she felt a wave of heat wash over her. How could a simple touch feel so good? she wondered, her mind swirling with desire. I shouldn't want this. I shouldn't be here. But as he pulled her closer, the world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the way their bodies fit together.

Just as she thought she might drown in the moment, a wave of pleasure crashed over her, overwhelming her senses. Afrah's body trembled as she climaxed, a rush of bliss washing over her, leaving her breathless and momentarily lost in ecstasy. She clung to his chest, feeling the strength of his heartbeat against her, a reminder that they were both still grounded in reality, despite the fantasy they had created.

Suddenly, the sound of a throat clearing pulled them back into the reality of the boutique. A salesgirl stood nearby, her eyes wide with surprise, watching them with a mix of curiosity and shock. The realization that they were being observed sent a thrill through Afrah, amplifying her arousal. This is so wrong and yet so exciting, she thought, her heart racing even faster.

Time seemed to pause as they held each other, their breaths mingling, each one filled with lingering desire. But reality eventually seeped back in, and she reluctantly pulled away, her heart still racing. She could see the longing in his eyes, the way he leaned in again, seeking another taste of her lips. But no, she thought, a flutter of anxiety gripping her. She raised her hand to stop him, grounding herself in the chaos of her emotions.


-







“Enough for today," she whispered, her voice barely above a breathless murmur. “Just a kiss. Nothing else. Remember, you’re my pretend boyfriend.”The words hung in the air between them, a fragile boundary that felt both necessary and painful.

Vishal's smirk was playful, his eyes glinting with an understanding that both excited and frustrated her. She could see the challenge in his gaze, the way he relished pushing her limits. How does he always manage to make me feel this way? she thought, her mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen next. Every nerve ending in her body was still tingling from their kiss, a reminder of the electric connection they shared.

As they stood there, both aware that their game was just beginning, Afrah felt a mixture of thrill and trepidation. She was caught between wanting to explore this undeniable chemistry and the reality of her engagement to Sohail. The thrill of their secret, the tantalizing flirtation, was a delicious temptation she found hard to resist. But she also knew that crossing that line could change everything, and she wasn't ready for that.

For now, she would play along, enjoying the rush of desire that came with being near him, all while keeping a tight grip on the boundaries that separ
ated fantasy from reality. 

[K MD THABREZ]

Super very good

[a2011]

awesome update

[Vinty03]

Awesome update ...if possible hve a phone sex

[DuraiBabu]

Ah! now this is a Zoz34's update! The last one seemed as if you were in a rush! You are moving in a great pace and seems this vulnerability of Arfah is creating the real heat! great going.. keep more coming!

[damien123456]

Guys pls leave comments , whether you like it or not ,or any suggestions

you're writing is awesome don't look for any suggestions write what's in you're mind that's ok well like you i too look for some suggestions but no suggestion nor comment for my story its ok no need for readers suggestion just write you're story the way you conceived