Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

Amit had already gone into the bedroom to change.

The house was quiet again.

But Priya's thoughts were not.

“He’s changed. Or… I’ve changed. That silence over dinner… it wasn’t guilt anymore. It was distance.”

She remembered the moment Ravi emerged from his room earlier,

How his eyes quickly flicked away when she met them.

How he kept his words clipped, his tone careful, his presence invisible.

“Why should it hurt? Isn’t this what I wanted? A line redrawn?”

She dried her hands.

Walked slowly to the window.

The city outside blinked with orange lights and long sighs.

But it was Sirisha’s laugh she’d overheard earlier in the day, light,

Full of ease, that tugged at her thoughts now.

“She’s young. Pretty. A little silly, but sweet. And she talks to him like she’s known him forever.”

And Ravi…

He smiles more when she’s around.

Jokes more.

Listens more.

He notices her.

Something fluttered in her chest.

Something tight and unwilling.

“I am his Didi. That’s all. That should be enough.”

Yet, she remembered the look in his eyes from the other night.

That half-second when he touched her.

That hesitation that felt like desire trying to be polite.

And she hadn’t flinched then.

Not out of disgust.

Not even out of anger.

Just fear, fear of how easily she might have let it linger.


“Any girl would be lucky to have a man like him around her. 

Kind, attentive, respectful… 

but beneath that, 

there’s something wild in him too. Something he hides well.”


She leaned on the window frame, stared at the reflection of her own face in the glass.

Her eyes didn’t look angry anymore. 

Just tired.

And somewhere under that, confused.

She heard Ravi’s door click shut.

And for reasons she couldn’t name, that sound stayed in her chest long after the room went silent.





-- oOo --

.

[Hotyyhard]

will be a 3some fun cant wait for next episode ur killing it ;)

[shailu4ever]

will be a 3some fun cant wait for next episode ur killing it ;)

Hi Hotyyhard


Haha love the enthusiasm! 

I’m really glad you’re enjoying it. But nope, no spoilers from me, you’ll just have to wait and see what happens next! 

Definitely a lot of fun coming though. 

And seriously, keep the likes, comments, and feedback coming.

They really mean a lot and totally help keep me motivated. 

Thank you very much, Appreciate the support!

-- Shailu

[shailu4ever]

Saturday Evening – The Saree, The Silence, The Storm


Ravi hadn’t expected the silence.

Not from the living room of flat 205 on a Saturday evening.

But it was there, wrapped in the golden glow of the setting sun and the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock.

His laptop was finally closed for the weekend,

And he stretched his arms and walked out,

Thinking of Sirisha’s dinner invite, of the casual conversations that lay ahead.

He wasn’t ready.

Not for her.

She stood near the full-length mirror by the dining table,

Fastening the last clasp of her delicate earring.

A strand of her hair fell across her cheek,

And she tucked it behind her ear with an unconscious grace.

And for a moment

Ravi forgot how to breathe.

Priya Didi.

Wearing a muted teal silk saree that shimmered with undertones of silver as it caught the light.

The fabric clung to her body with an elegance that made the air feel slow, denser.

The pleats fell in perfect rhythm against her hips, gathered at her slender waist,

hugging her body like a whispered promise.

And her blouse—a sleeveless,

Square-cut style in matching teal—held her gently,


revealing just enough to haunt the imagination but never enough to betray her dignity.



- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

She had worn the saree low


Tied just below her navel. 

Her toned midriff rose and fell gently with her breath

And that little curve between her waist and her hip, it wasn’t just visible. It was poetry.

Ravi stood at the hallway’s edge, frozen.

For a heartbeat.

Then two.

Then he blinked, because he had to, because if he didn’t,

He’d lose himself forever in the way her skin met the edge of the saree, 

In the golden line of her back exposed above the tied blouse.

“How can someone look like this? How can any woman carry beauty like this—so unknowingly… or worse, knowingly?”

She caught him in the mirror.

Her eyes flicked up for a second

Saw him watching, 

And for the briefest pause, didn’t look away.

Then her lips curved. 

A soft, knowing half-smile. 

Not flirtation, not even acknowledgment. 

Just… a moment shared between them that didn't need naming.

“She knows,” Ravi thought, 

“She must know. How could she not? Does she dress like this for herself? Or for him? Or…”


He shut the thought.


- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

But his eyes didn’t move.



She turned to adjust the pallu over her shoulder,

and as she moved, the curve of her back came into full view, bare, sculpted, glowing.

The single string of her blouse dangled loosely across her shoulder blades, resting like a careless secret.

The saree fabric brushed against the floor, soft and whispery,

and when she moved, it sang a private song meant only for the one watching closely.

“This… this is what gods must have tried to sculpt and failed.

This is what poets spend lifetimes trying to describe.”

She was tall. Slim. But never fragile.

Her body had the confidence of someone who had lived enough to carry grace,

and yet untouched enough to make you believe she could still be ruined by love.

Ravi’s throat went dry.

He wanted to say something. Anything.

But all he managed was, “Didi…”

She looked up again, this time turning slightly toward him.

Her earrings caught the light, glittering with the same mystery as her eyes.

“Hmm?”

Just a sound. No question in it. Just permission.


Ravi couldn’t answer that sound.

So he looked away.

“Nothing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and stepping to the kitchen for a glass of water he didn’t need.

Behind him, the sound of her bangles adjusting,

Her soft footsteps moving, her saree brushing against skin

It all followed like music he’d never forget.

“She’s the one,” he thought.

“She’s the one this world isn’t worthy of. And yet, here she is. In this house. In this moment. In this silence.”


He didn't know what would happen next.

But he knew this:

He would never be the same again.

-- oOo --

.

[shailu4ever]

Ravi didn’t mean to stare.


But his eyes returned, again and again, to the delicate curve of her belly.

That small, bare space between the pleats of her saree and the edge of her blouse held him like a spell.

Her waist was impossibly slim,

Tapering in with a gentle grace that artists spend decades learning to sketch.

And right at the center, nestled in flawless, porcelain skin, was her navel.

Not deep. Not shallow.

Just there, quietly defiant, soft, and exquisite.

A tiny, perfect depression that moved ever so slightly with her breath.

Like the punctuation mark at the end of a forgotten poem.

As if nature had paused mid, creation just to admire its own handiwork.

The saree’s dbang curved gently below it,

Drawing the gaze in slow, hypnotic circles, like waves around a still lake.

“If beauty had a center,” Ravi thought,

“this would be it. A dot of innocence. A wound of elegance.”

He didn’t even realize he had stopped drinking water.

Did she know?

Was she aware how her blouse sat just a touch higher,

Letting the light kiss the skin beneath it.



- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

How the thin gold chain at her waist sometimes dipped,




Outlining her belly like a painter’s final stroke.

And if she did know, why hadn’t she moved to adjust it?

Priya turned, ever so slightly.

The movement made the pleats flutter against her stomach.

The navel shifted, a slow dance beneath silk and breath.

And Ravi, struck dumb, felt something cave inside him.

Not lust. Not longing.

Something quieter.

Worship.

Priya knew.

She felt it, not just the gaze, but the weight of it.

Ravi’s eyes weren’t like most men’s.

They didn’t leer.

They lingered, like someone afraid that if he blinked, the dream would end.

And somehow, that mattered.

She didn't move to cover herself.

Didn’t shift the pallu to veil the view.

In fact, she stood still for a moment longer than necessary.

Letting the silence stretch. Letting the air settle around her like a slow-burning secret.


- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

He still looks at me like that, she thought.


Even after all this.

Even after I yelled, even after I turned away… 

He looks at me like I’m still worth losing sleep over.

And somewhere, deep beneath her disciplined poise, it pleased her.

Not in vanity.

In proof.

Proof that she hadn’t vanished into silence.

That her beauty hadn’t been erased by guilt or grief.

That she could still make someone forget themselves, even if it was someone she should never allow herself to matter to.

She turned, lifting the bindi sticker off the tray by the dresser. Walked a little closer.

Ravi hadn’t moved.

He stood by the kitchen counter, glass still half full in his hand, pretending to sip.

She stopped near him. Not close, not far.

Their eyes met.

A beat passed.

Then she spoke, voice soft, without edge, but still steady. “Are you ready?”

Ravi cleared his throat. “Uh… yes, Didi.”


She gave a faint nod, fastening the tiny bindi between her brows in the mirror nearby. “Sirisha will be waiting.”

He was still staring. Not inappropriately, but reverently. He didn’t hide it, not this time.

And she didn’t stop him.



- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

Instead, as she turned away toward the door


She let the tiniest smile touch her lips.

One he wouldn't see. One that lived for her alone.

Let him look. Let him remember.

Let him carry this image to his dreams.

Let him know I know, and choose not to stop him.

Amit’s voice floated from the bedroom.

“Just five minutes!”

The sound of the closet doors opening, hangers clinking, and a quick muttered “Where’s that damn belt…” followed.

Priya smiled faintly at the chaos behind the door, then walked toward the sofa.

Her saree moved like light in silk form, whispering around her waist, brushing her hips as if the fabric itself envied her skin.

Ravi stood still near the dining table, unsure whether to follow her or just stay still.

She sat down with grace so fluid it felt rehearsed, but he knew it wasn’t.

She didn’t perform her elegance.

She carried it, the way some women carry memory in their eyes and fire in their silence.

He wasn’t looking directly at her.

But every nerve in his body was.

She wasn't trying to provoke.


That’s what made it worse.

There was no seduction in her posture, just stillness.

Her forearms rested lightly on her lap.

One sandal dangled lazily from her foot.

Her hair, still slightly damp from the evening shower, clung gently to the side of her neck.

And the fabric…

God, the fabric.

The saree clung to her chest like a lover’s breath—tight in some places,

forgiving in others, and where it passed over her bust, the outline was undeniable.

Not obscene. Not overt. But visible. Like a secret the air itself refused to keep.

Ravi swallowed. His throat dry. He turned away.

Looked at the clock. At the balcony. Anywhere but at her.

But still, her image etched itself into his every blink.

And then, her voice.

“You’re very quiet, Ravi.”

His eyes darted to hers. Calm. Steady. A hint of a smile playing on her lips—but her eyes were unreadable.

He found his voice. “Just… waiting for Amit.”

Priya tilted her head slightly.

“He’s been waiting for that black shirt since we moved in. I told him it wouldn’t fit anymore.”

She laughed softly. It wasn’t forced.





- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

Something had shifted.


She wasn’t completely over the past week. 

He knew that. 

But she also wasn’t punishing him anymore. 

There was something easier about her now. 

Not warmth. Not quite.

But a return to grace.

He nodded, smiled, then gestured toward the door. “We’ll be late.”

She glanced toward the bedroom and called,

 “Amit! If you’re not out in two minutes, we’re leaving you behind!”

Amit’s muffled voice responded, “Don’t tempt me!”

She looked at Ravi again, and for a moment, neither said a word.

And in that silence, his heart said everything his mouth couldn’t.

You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.

Or maybe… you do.

She didn’t ask why he looked at her that way.

And he didn’t explain.

Sometimes, the most forbidden things survive in the silence.

Just then, Amit finally emerged from the bedroom, fumbling with the sleeves of a shirt he hadn’t worn in years.

He adjusted the collar and smiled sheepishly.

“I knew it would fit,” he said, patting his stomach. “If I don’t button it all the way up.”

Priya rolled her eyes with a grin. “You should’ve listened to me.”

“You say that every day,” he shot back, reaching for his watch.

They were all dressed now. Ready.

Ravi locked the door behind them as they stepped into the corridor.

The floor was quiet, faint sounds of weekend television echoing from distant flats.





- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

The elevator pinged open.


Amit stepped in first

Adjusting his sleeve in the mirror that lined the back wall.

Priya entered next, her saree trailing behind her like the afterglow of a flame.

Ravi followed, his eyes involuntarily drawn to the sway of her form

The hypnotic rhythm of each step she took.

The cabin was small.

No words for that kind of closeness.

Amit stood to one side of the door, leaving the center space to Priya.

And Ravi… had no choice but to stand behind her.

That narrow little rectangle of steel suddenly held too much.

The saree’s fabric barely touched him.

Yet every movement she made, every shift of weight,

Every faint sway, sent a storm through his spine.

Her back was inches away.

Her hair still carried the faintest trace of jasmine and sandalwood oil.

But underneath that, her perfume.

Soft, expensive, and disarmingly intimate.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t floral. It was... subtle and addictive.

The kind that didn’t announce itself but whispered, closer.

He could see the shimmer of the blouse from this close, a gentle sheen under the elevator’s dim light.

The blouse hugged her so perfectly that it revealed the quiet pride of a woman who knew she looked exquisite,

Without ever showing it off.



- o -

.

[shailu4ever]

And beneath the dbang of the pallu


The dignity of her heavenly breasts softly covered

Her waist curved in before rising into the flare of her hips

The saree hugging every turn like a loyal second skin.

He wasn’t breathing.

And then the elevator jolted.

Just a small mechanical bounce as it passed the third floor.

But the cabin shifted, and for a fraction of a second, Priya leaned back, not much, just enough.

Her shoulder brushed against his chest.

His hand twitched.

He caught his breath and looked at the mirror.

Amit was checking his hair.

Priya adjusted her pallu like nothing had happened.

But Ravi… felt everything.

It was just a brush of cloth.

Just a shared breath.

Just a normal evening.

Except it wasn’t.

The elevator door opened on the fourth floor with a soft ding.

Sirisha’s home.

They stepped out into the corridor.

The hallway smelt faintly of incense and fresh food.

Light spilled out from under door 401. Laughter too.

Amit reached forward and pressed the bell.

The chime echoed inside.

And behind that closed door… another evening waited.

-- oOo --

.

[shailu4ever]

Hi all,


We’re now introducing a new character, Neetu (Sirisha’s bhabhi), along with Vamsi (Sirisha’s brother).

What are your expectations for these characters? We'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas.

Let me know if you'd like to tailor this further for a specific audience or tone.

I’d appreciate your feedback.

-- Shailu

[Hotyyhard]

wow excellent Shailuu the way u described her beauty awesome ;)

[Raj087]

You are simply brilliant in your writing style..I cannot Stop to appreciate you...the Way you described priya in saree was like i can see her infornt of my eyes without even imagining it was so Vivid yet so mysterious...i know you have your own plans to describe her furthermore but Just a small suggestion how elegantly her Belly looks after a heavy Dinner...as she is in saree it would be asthetically beautiful to describe her heavy Dinner bloat in saree..the fullness it gains after meal visible though her saree. Also if you ask my suggestion you can introduce Neetu as someone who is having a western style as she stayed long in western Europe or USA to contrast the indian elegance...just think over it....

[shailu4ever]

wow excellent Shailuu the way u described her beauty awesome ;)

Hi Hotyyhard

Thank you so much! I really appreciate your kind words. I'm glad the description resonated with you, it means a lot!

with ward regards

-- Shailu

[shailu4ever]

You are simply brilliant in your writing style..I cannot Stop to appreciate you...the Way you described priya in saree was like i can see her infornt of my eyes without even imagining it was so Vivid yet so mysterious...i know you have your own plans to describe her furthermore but Just a small suggestion how elegantly her Belly looks after a heavy Dinner...as she is in saree it would be asthetically beautiful to describe her heavy Dinner bloat in saree..the fullness it gains after meal visible though her saree. Also if you ask my suggestion you can introduce Neetu as someone who is having a western style as she stayed long in western Europe or USA to contrast the indian elegance...just think over it....

Hi raj087

Thank you so much! Your message honestly made my day. 

I'm really happy you enjoyed the way Priya was described, it’s great to hear that the scene felt so vivid and real to you.

And I love your suggestions! The idea of highlighting that post-dinner fullness subtly through the saree is actually quite a beautiful visual detail.

I'll definitely think about how to weave that in naturally. 

Also, introducing Neetu with a Western touch to contrast Priya’s traditional vibe sounds like a really fun dynamic to explore. 

The upcoming scene I already wrote it.  I’ll definitely keep that in mind as the story progresses. I will introduce some character in western touch.

Thanks again for taking the time to share your thoughts in such detail!

Really appreciate you for your thoughtful feedback!

With warm regards

-- Shailu

.

[khemucha]

Are all the husband here also small dicked and Ravi the massive stud ... like in your other story ... just asking.

You write well and and your attention to detail paints a vivid picture of the space, clothing and the thoughts driving each character in each scene. But your writing style is too staccato for my liking; takes too much effort. I don't know whether its by design or its a result of writing on a mobile. Wish it flowed like normal prose, paragraphs and all. Too bad - for me.

Wishing you all the best for both your stories. I'll skim through at intervals to get a sense of where the character arcs are. Let me leave you with something to mull over. Your talent does not deserve you falling into cliche's to service the norm. Its ok to focus on the characters in play, but morality, societal family values, and reputation are not the only millstones around a married woman's neck. Their partner's qualities and value addition in their lives factor in too. Of course, like some men are womanizers, some women are sluts, whose every thought is auto-wired to weave a justifying shroud for their transgression. The rational brain can justify anything, but the deep seated nature peeps through every now and then. That's missing in your well crafted stories. Dull unattentive boring husbands, lilly-white pure-at-heart perfect suburban wives pining for attention and companionship, and shy young men with an uncanny empathy who know just which buttons to press - its done and dusted with for a couple of centuries. Consider trying something different, with well rounded characters. You have the talent to do it, once you've gone around the mill with these two.

[shailu4ever]

Are all the husband here also small dicked and Ravi the massive stud ... like in your other story ... just asking.

You write well and and your attention to detail paints a vivid picture of the space, clothing and the thoughts driving each character in each scene. But your writing style is too staccato for my liking; takes too much effort. I don't know whether its by design or its a result of writing on a mobile. Wish it flowed like normal prose, paragraphs and all. Too bad - for me.

Wishing you all the best for both your stories. I'll skim through at intervals to get a sense of where the character arcs are. Let me leave you with something to mull over. Your talent does not deserve you falling into cliche's to service the norm. Its ok to focus on the characters in play, but morality, societal family values, and reputation are not the only millstones around a married woman's neck. Their partner's qualities and value addition in their lives factor in too. Of course, like some men are womanizers, some women are sluts, whose every thought is auto-wired to weave a justifying shroud for their transgression. The rational brain can justify anything, but the deep seated nature peeps through every now and then. That's missing in your well crafted stories. Dull unattentive boring husbands, lilly-white pure-at-heart perfect suburban wives pining for attention and companionship, and shy young men with an uncanny empathy who know just which buttons to press - its done and dusted with for a couple of centuries. Consider trying something different, with well rounded characters. You have the talent to do it, once you've gone around the mill with these two.

Hi khemucha

Thanks a lot for taking the time to give such detailed feedback.

This is actually my first time writing, so I really didn’t expect to get everything right on the first try.

I truly appreciate your honest thoughts.

Constructive criticism helps me learn and improve.

About my writing style: I currently write everything on my phone.

I don’t have a computer with me right now

And I can’t really use my brother’s laptop for this.

Once I’m back in the U.S., I’ll have access to my full setup and can write more comfortably on my own computer.

That said, I personally enjoy short sentences and simpler structure, especially when I’m reading on my phone.

I totally get that not everyone likes that

Some people prefer longer, more detailed paragraphs.

I respect that, and I’m glad you shared your view.

Just wanted to explain why I write the way I do for now.



About the characters, yes, the husbands are definitely important too.

But if I try to give equal attention to everyone’s perspective, the story gets way longer and harder to manage, especially for me as a beginner.

Right now, just keeping one narrative going is already a big challenge!

Maybe in the future, give me a year or two and I might be able to handle multiple perspectives like Amit’s or Vamsi’s.


Honestly, I’m just writing for fun and entertainment.

Like most movies, my stories are meant to be light, emotional, and enjoyable.

I’m not trying to write a deep, serious novel.

Just something that makes me happy and hopefully brings a little joy to others too.



If the husbands feel a bit flat, it’s because I’m writing from the wives’ point of view.

And I’ve seen in real life how some women feel ignored or underappreciated in their marriages.

They stay home, waiting for a little attention.

When someone finally listens to them or shows they care, it really means a lot.

That’s the kind of emotion I’m trying to show through these stories.



Anyway, thanks again for reading and for your thoughtful feedback.


I really do appreciate it!


Warm regards
 
-- Shailu