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Adultery Priya Didi
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18-07-2025, 07:10 PM
Hi readersp
I hope everything is going fine with you. How is your father-in-law doing? I sincerely hope he's recovering well and feeling stronger each day. -- Shailu
18-07-2025, 07:19 PM
Monday Late Morning – Neetu’s Thoughts
By 10:45 AM, the morning had returned to its usual routine in Flat 401. Vamsi was already out on a grocery run, and Sirisha was in her room, supposedly attending a class online but more likely scrolling through memes or planning her next reel. Neetu sat at the dining table, flipping through the newspaper, the rustle of pages echoing in the silence. But she wasn’t really reading. Her thoughts drifted far too easily. They kept looping back… to last night. To that wicked little chat window she’d closed and reopened a dozen times. She had deleted all the messages like she said she would. She always did. But the words hadn’t disappeared from her memory. And neither had the tone. Or the way he looked at her during dinner. Not like someone stealing a glance, but someone memorizing her. That rattled something deep inside. It had been years since someone made her feel… truly seen. Not as Vamsi’s wife. Not as the responsible vodina. Not as someone who cooks, serves, smiles, and holds polite conversations. Ravi hadn’t looked at her like she belonged in a box. He looked at her like she was the box, the whole treasure. “What else did you notice about me?” She smiled now, involuntarily, her fingers playing with the edge of the newspaper. Her gagra from a few nights back still hung folded neatly on the side table in the bedroom. She’d caught herself staring at it twice already. Neetu shook her head and stood up. She didn’t want this. But a part of her did. And that conflict simmered under her skin like the quiet hiss of a pressure cooker, waiting. Waiting for just one more word, one more message, one more moment from Ravi to justify her slipping. A soft ding from her phone snapped her attention. It wasn’t Ravi. Just a delivery notification. But her heart beat a little faster anyway. She tucked the paper aside, glanced at the hallway mirror as she passed it, and adjusted her hair. She didn’t need to. But she did. He called me a queen. “Only because you looked like one,” she whispered under her breath, barely audible. She didn’t notice her own smile in the mirror. But it was there. -- oOo -- .
18-07-2025, 08:09 PM
(18-07-2025, 07:10 PM)shailu4ever Wrote: Hi readersp
18-07-2025, 11:51 PM
That is good. Hope he fully recovers soon.
-- Shailu
19-07-2025, 01:27 AM
Monday Evening – A Quiet Dinner with Priya Didi
Ravi walked into 205 around 7:15 PM. The flat was quiet, dimly lit with the soft glow from the kitchen lights. The clatter of a ladle against steel drifted in from inside. He paused, looked toward the kitchen, and smiled to himself. There she was. Priya stood near the stove, wearing a casual cotton kurti and comfortable bottoms, Her hair loosely tied up, a few tendrils falling near her cheek. No jewellery tonight. No attempt to impress. And yet, she looked like poetry had taken human form and decided to stir the dal gently, lost in thought. Her back to him, one bare heel slightly lifted as she stood half on her toes to reach for something in the cabinet. He didn’t announce his arrival. He didn’t need to. He just watched. Silently. After a few seconds, she sensed him there. She turned. “Hey,” she said, softly. Not cold. But not warm either. He smiled. “Hey, Didi.” She gave a small nod, and turned off the stove. “Dinner's ready. I just finished cooking.” “Smells amazing,” he said, walking in, trying to keep his tone casual. But his eyes still lingered, on the elegant line of her neck, the soft curve of her waist, The effortless way she moved in her own space. No pretenses. No performance. Just her. And that was enough to make his chest ache. They sat down together. The table was simple, rice, dal, a sabzi, and a little bowl of curd. No theatrics. Just care. - o - .
19-07-2025, 01:31 AM
“You cooked all this?” he asked, as he took his first bite.
She gave a small shrug. “Didn’t take much time.” “It’s perfect,” he said, his eyes on her more than the food. “You always say that you’re not a great cook. But you are. Quietly brilliant. Just like everything else you do.” She glanced at him once, her expression unreadable. “Eat, Ravi. Compliments don’t count if you haven’t finished your plate.” He grinned and obeyed. There were long silences between bites, but not uncomfortable ones. Ravi was careful. He didn’t push. He didn’t flirt. But his admiration came through in every look, every small smile, Every lingering second before his eyes returned to his plate. And Priya felt it. She wasn’t sure why, but tonight… it didn’t bother her. She kept her eyes on her food. But something about his quiet presence, the way he said her name, Didi like a prayer or a vow, eased something inside her. She wasn’t ready to welcome it, but she wasn’t pushing it away either. As they finished, Ravi helped bring the dishes into the sink without being asked. “You didn’t have to,” she said, surprised. “I wanted to,” he replied. Their fingers brushed briefly near the faucet. Both paused. She withdrew hers first. “I’ll finish up.” He nodded. “Okay.” Before walking away, he glanced back at her one last time that night. Her sleeves were slightly rolled up, the water running gently, and her profile caught in the golden kitchen light. Just like that, doing nothing in particular, she looked more breathtaking than ever. And she knew he was watching. She didn’t turn. But for the first time in days… She smiled. -- oOo --
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19-07-2025, 12:05 PM
Tuesday – Lunch with Priya Didi
The clock had just crossed 1:15 PM when Ravi stepped out of his room, stretching lightly. The aroma from the kitchen wrapped around him like a warm embrace—soft spices, gentle steam, and the unmistakable comfort of home cooked food. Priya was already setting the table. She had changed into a light lavender cotton kurti and a soft white pajama, her hair loosely tied, A few tendrils curling against her cheek. Calm. Effortless. Radiant in the most unintentional way. “Ready?” she asked, not looking directly at him. He nodded. “Smells too good to delay.” They sat across from each other. The meal was simple, vegetable pulao, raita, and a bowl of dal. Comfort food. Conversation started light: a comment about the heat outside, a brief exchange about Amit’s client call earlier in the morning. But Ravi’s mind wasn’t on the food. He noticed it. A softness. It wasn’t that Priya was overly warm or open, but… she wasn’t closed off anymore. She wasn’t distant the way she had been for the past several days. There was no sharp edge in her voice. No silence weighed down by avoidance. Her glances were slower. When she listened, her eyes stayed on him longer than necessary, just for a second. But it was enough for him to notice. At one point, he mentioned Sirisha’s Rasmalai and laughed at her morning antics. As he spoke, he caught Priya watching him. Not judging. Not disapproving. Just watching, with a quiet, unreadable expression. That was enough. He felt a flicker of something strong and deep, optimism. The walls she had built were still there, yes. But a window had opened. A crack in the stone. And through it, light. She refilled his bowl of dal without asking. He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back. But her eyes softened. And that was enough. -- oOo --
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20-07-2025, 12:23 PM
Tuesday Afternoon – The Final Spark
The living room of flat 205 was quiet, the afternoon sun filtered softly through the sheer curtains. The hum of the ceiling fan filled the silence as Ravi sat on the couch with his laptop open, Working on a dashboard prototype for one of his backend clients. His mind was half in code, half outside it, anticipating. A soft chime of the doorbell broke the stillness. Priya glanced up from the kitchen, where she was wiping the counter, and Ravi instinctively rose. He knew who it was. He opened the door, and there she was, Sirisha Bright-eyed and bouncing with her usual spark. She wore a short sky-blue kurti over fitted jeans, She sleeves rolled just past her elbows, And her long, straight hair clipped loosely to one side. There was something freshly fragrant about her, like she had just showered before coming. Her kajal was darker today, her smile effortless. “Hi, Bhayya! I said I’ll come after lunch, see, I kept my promise!” she grinned, stepping in without hesitation. He smiled back. “Right on time. Come, sit.” She didn’t just sit, she dropped beside him on the couch The kind of closeness that friends who skipped past awkward phases had. - o - .
20-07-2025, 12:28 PM
Her phone dangled from her fingers
Her arm brushed his lightly as she leaned forward to see his screen. “Are you still working?” she asked, Mock-exhausted. “I thought I’ll come and distract you.” He laughed. “This is dangerous. You might actually succeed.” From the kitchen doorway, Priya watched, half-curious, half-still. Sirisha turned her head toward Ravi. “You didn’t finish telling me about your advertisement thing. I was thinking of asking my senior to create some advertisement campaign for our college fest. Can I steal some ideas?” She wasn’t just talking. She was slowly folding one leg up, half-crossed on the couch, completely at ease. Her arm lightly rested along the backrest now Her fingers just a few inches from Ravi’s shoulder. Ravi smiled politely, but he could feel the warmth of her skin, the proximity. She wasn’t flirting, not overtly. She was just being Sirisha Playful, expressive, a little too close, And utterly unaware of the heat she radiated at close range. He began explaining something about some concepts Struggling to keeping his tone normal. - o - .
20-07-2025, 12:31 PM
From the kitchen
Priya Didi stood silently Her hand frozen over the cloth she was holding. She wasn’t angry, there was no reason to be. But there it was. That odd, tight knot in her chest. Something about the way Sirisha leaned toward Ravi. Something about the way Ravi spoke, the casual way he smiled at her. He never smiled at me like that. Priya turned back to her work, but her ears remained tuned. Meanwhile, Sirisha tilted her head, mock-pouting. “You don’t think I understand these things, huh? I’m not dumb, Bhayya. Just because I wear eyeliner doesn’t mean my brain’s missing.” Ravi chuckled. “Did I say that?” She rolled her eyes and tapped his shoulder lightly. “You thought it.” That simple tap lingered in the air. Ravi looked down at her hand. She withdrew it a second later, Grinning, oblivious to the flicker in his eyes. Just then, Priya appeared, her face composed, Holding a small steel tray with two glasses of buttermilk. “Here,” she said, placing it gently on the coffee table. “Wow, thank you, Didi!” Sirisha chirped. “Not too spicy, right?” Priya asked with a soft smile. - o - .
20-07-2025, 12:34 PM
“No no, it’s perfect,” she said.
“You’re amazing, Didi. I wish my Bhabhi made buttermilk like this!” Priya gave a small smile, eyes drifting briefly to Ravi. He was already looking at her, silently. And in that look, she saw something. She saw his loyalty, his quiet reverence, like he still belonged to her. That was enough. A tiny flame of confidence flickered to life inside her. The space Sirisha took up was temporary. What she had with Ravi… went deeper. Sirisha didn’t notice. She happily sipped her drink and plopped her feet under her on the couch, cozy and chirpy. But Ravi noticed. He noticed the way Priya’s smile barely curved, How she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned without another word. He saw the sway of her long braid down her back as she walked away in her simple home kurti and track pants. No makeup, no kajal, no attention-seeking clothes. And yet, in that moment, she was the only woman who mattered to him. As Sirisha went on about her project idea, Ravi found his thoughts drifting again. Priya Didi had watched. Priya Didi had felt something. That meant everything. He didn’t need more confirmation. -- oOo --
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20-07-2025, 03:15 PM
Tuesday Afternoon – Priya’s Silence, Her Storm
The kitchen had always been her domain. The hiss of the stove, the rattle of steel plates, The soft clink of ladles, they were the sounds of routine, of control, of comfort. But today… the sounds from the living room had a rhythm of their own. Priya moved quietly between the sink and the fridge, Placing the curd back in its spot, rinsing out the buttermilk pot. Her hands worked automatically, but her eyes, her mind, were drifting. She could hear Sirisha's voice, breezy and unfiltered, Floating in with that playful lilt only girls of that age carried. The way she laughed, sharp and clear, echoed slightly against the tiles. She didn’t mean to listen. She didn’t want to care. And yet… “You don’t think I understand these things, huh?” “Just because I wear eyeliner doesn’t mean my brain’s missing.” Priya stilled for a second, her fingers brushing against the edge of the wet dishcloth. She blinked slowly. Her reflection in the steel panel of the microwave looked back at her Plain, tired, hair tied in a bun, no kajal. The grey kurti she wore was loose, her favorite for housework. - o - .
20-07-2025, 03:17 PM
Comfy. Ordinary.
She picked up a glass absentmindedly and scrubbed it harder than needed. It wasn’t jealousy. No, of course not. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She was married. She was grounded. She was mature. But then again... what was that feeling? That flutter in the chest when she saw Ravi laughing with Sirisha? That slow, hot coil in the stomach when she noticed how close the girl sat next to him on the couch? Priya closed her eyes for a second. Was it… insecurity? She had been watching Ravi more often lately. Watching how he moved. How he carried himself. How he respected boundaries without needing reminders. How he admired her without ever overstepping. She had noticed how he looked at her, too—like she mattered. Like her presence made the room complete. And today, that gaze had shifted. Even if only for a little while. - o - .
20-07-2025, 03:20 PM
Her breath caught in her throat.
She rinsed her hands under the tap and stood still, water dripping down her fingers. “Why should it matter?” she asked herself, Whispering so low even the steel vessels couldn’t hear. “He’s not mine.” But wasn’t that the exact problem? She wiped her hands with a towel and walked toward the kitchen doorway. She stood, partly shielded by the edge of the wall, peeking into the living room. Sirisha had her feet folded under her, her hand resting so casually behind Ravi’s shoulder on the couch. And Ravi, he was listening patiently, with that same polite smile, but Priya could see it. The slight shift in his body. His thoughts were elsewhere. She took a small step back. Her heart thudded, not with fear, not with anger, But with something far more dangerous. A quiet, creeping realization. If I don’t return to being myself... I’ll lose him. Not to Sirisha. Or anyone else. But to distance. To silence. To the walls I’ve built. She walked back to the kitchen, her head lowered. There was a mirror near the fridge. She caught her reflection again. This time, she smiled faintly at it. He still sees me, she thought. He still admires me. I saw it today. And slowly, the corners of her heart began to thaw. -- oOo --
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20-07-2025, 03:28 PM
Tuesday Afternoon – Sirisha Prepares to Leave
Sirisha stretched her arms above her head with a soft yawn, Her anklet chiming faintly as she adjusted her legs. “Okayyy, Ravi bhayya,” she said, playful as ever, “I should go before Neetu bhabhi sends out a search party.” She rose with an effortless bounce, flicking her hair back and smoothing her top. Her crop tee clung a little as she moved, the hem teasing the narrow dip of her waist. Her breasts bounced with her. Ravi stood too, polite, relaxed, but his glance was brief this time, guarded. From the kitchen doorway, Priya watched silently. Her hands folded loosely, the edge of her dupatta in her fingers. That girl is sunshine with no filter, Priya thought. Sweet, vibrant, young. Too young, really. But her presence filled the house like a fast, fragrant breeze, Hard to ignore and even harder to stop from sweeping things around. Sirisha slipped into her sandals at the door. “Bhayya,” she grinned, pausing, “if you don’t start teaching properly from Thursday, I’m going to report you to Priya Didi.” Ravi chuckled, “Noted, ma’am. You’re officially my most dangerous student.” Sirisha winked. “That’s because you haven’t met me in full form yet.” They exchanged one last smile, nothing improper, But Priya’s stomach twisted anyway. Not in jealousy, she told herself. Not quite. But in the sudden clarity of what could have been, what might become, if she kept looking away. As the door clicked softly behind Sirisha, The silence settled like a blanket over the flat. Ravi lingered for a second, staring at the door. Then, slowly, he turned. And Priya stepped back into the kitchen, pretending to wipe her hands again. But this time… her face held a quiet softness. She’s gone, she thought. And to her surprise, her heart exhaled. A lightness, a quiet reassurance, crept through her chest. She didn’t speak to Ravi right away. She let the house breathe. But behind her calm eyes, something shifted. A small fire relit, not from fear, but from knowing her place mattered. -- oOo --
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20-07-2025, 03:46 PM
Exactly the way I imagined!!! Priya is possessive of Ravi just like how we have become of this story!!! Keep rocking!!!
21-07-2025, 12:51 AM
(20-07-2025, 03:46 PM)readersp Wrote: Exactly the way I imagined!!! Priya is possessive of Ravi just like how we have become of this story!!! Keep rocking!!! Hi readersp Thank you, yes she is possessive, it is very common even for a strong woman. So sweet you say you also like this story that much. Thank you very much. Giving the updates now. With ward regards -- Shailu
21-07-2025, 01:15 AM
Tuesday Evening – Dinner, and the Return of Priya Didi
The evening unfolded quietly, the last vestiges of sunlight painting the windows with a warm, amber glow. Ravi had just stepped out of the shower, his skin still warm and damp from the steam, His hair dripping slightly as he towel-dried it. He dressed in a loose tee and his comfy tracks, the fabric clinging softly to his still, moist skin. The flat was serene, a soft light filtering through the sheer curtains, casting an almost ethereal glow on the space. The air was cool, but inside, the warmth was inviting, a quiet comfort that seemed to wrap around him. And then... she appeared. Priya Didi stepped out of her room, Her bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floor. She was tying her hair loosely behind her neck, The strands slipping through her fingers with practiced ease. Her movements were fluid, like a dancer, each gesture seeming effortless but intentional. The moment she walked into the soft pool of light, Ravi was paralyzed His eyes locked on her in a way he hadn’t been able to control. She wasn’t in a saree. Not a kurti either. Tonight, she wore something that seemed to erase everything about the woman she had once been. The deep-indigo skirt she wore was long, ankle-length And it flowed with every step she took The fabric brushing the floor in a soft whisper. The mirror-work on the skirt was delicate Like tiny, silver stars scattered against the night sky. - o - .
21-07-2025, 01:19 AM
It shimmered faintly with her every movement
Drawing the eye without overwhelming, A beautiful contrast to the quiet elegance of the entire outfit. It was the kind of beauty that caught you off guard Like the moon suddenly breaking through a clouded sky. Her top was a sleeveless cream blouse, but not just any blouse. The high neckline was chic, sculpted, but the way it hugged her frame was pure grace. It fit so perfectly that it seemed like it had been designed just for her. It didn’t cling too tightly, but it didn’t need to. It traced the soft lines of her body with effortless precision The fabric stretching gently across her chest The curve of her waist just visible as it began to flare out into the skirt. And that waist. There was something so subtly sensual about how it curved, soft but firm, unintentional, yet striking. The cut of the blouse revealed just enough to draw attention to that delicate line, but nothing more. It was bold, and impossible to ignore. The effect was subtle, quiet, yet utterly captivating. Her skin, glowing in the ambient light, seemed to hold the warmth of summer-soft, Glowing with a light all its own, as though it was kissed by the sun long after it had set. It was smooth, flawless, the kind of skin that made you want to reach out, To trace the contours of her collarbones The delicate curve of her neck. - o - .
21-07-2025, 01:21 AM
Her earrings
Simple silver hoops with tiny blue stones, caught the light with every movement, Flashing softly like little sparks of fire, reminding him of the way the stars looked on a quiet evening. And her eyes, those eyes. They always seemed to pull him in, and tonight, they were no different. When she tilted her head and caught his gaze, Her look was so direct, so knowing, that for a moment, Ravi forgot how to breathe. Her expression wasn’t judgmental, wasn’t cold. It was... open. A little amused, maybe. But there was something else there, something deeper, as if she were letting him in for just a second. Ravi couldn’t help himself. He stared. His eyes traced the curve of her waist, the way the fabric of her blouse clung to her body. He let himself linger on the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her earrings glinted softly in the light. He couldn’t look away, even though he knew he should. The way she moved, so effortlessly beautiful, seemed to call to him, To make him want to study her, to memorize every detail. And when she noticed, when her eyes met his again, And she saw the way his gaze was locked on her, something shifted. There was a slight pause, a breath caught between them, Before she tilted her head just so, a soft, knowing smile tugging at her lips. - o - .
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