Adultery The Language of Her Heart
(03-08-2025, 07:01 PM)Vijay42 Wrote: இனிய பிறந்தநாள் வாழ்த்துகள் நண்பா  horseride

Thank you bro
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Do not mention / post any under age /rape content. If found Please use REPORT button.
(03-08-2025, 04:18 PM)sexypreeti Wrote: The last update came as no surprise...especially about Prakash  :) Nice twist  clp); clp); clp);

I am sure many readers felt like K.L.P.D.  :)
[+] 1 user Likes sexypreeti's post
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(04-08-2025, 12:26 AM)sexypreeti Wrote: I am sure many readers felt like K.L.P.D.  :)

Yes yes KLPD at its best..... Whole 180° turn around of the story.... Poor Prakash should have got the rasgulla.... This was injustice to him..... I was expecting atleast some hot moments between Pavi and Prakash.

And congratulations Preeti on becoming a senior member.... Awaiting a new next update on your story..... Please post ASAP
Val Namaskar
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(03-08-2025, 04:06 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: The next few episodes will be a slow burn again ? More of Pavi’s everyday mood swings, quiet moments, and some behind-the-scenes plotting. So enjoy the simmering phase… the real boil is on the way ?

Wish there were 3-4 more updates with some hot sex as the slow burn before was too long.
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(04-08-2025, 08:00 AM)Sage_69 Wrote: Wish there were 3-4 more updates with some hot sex as the slow burn before was too long.

If you have read the last update carefully then you will see how Pavi is fighting with herself over her morals/thoughts and physical desires...If the writer had rushed thru with sex in this last update then this story would not be any different from the thousands of sex stories on this forum...

So I feel that sometimes going a little slow is worth while to explain and justify the emotional turmoil running her mind. I do agree that going "very" slow is also not desirable but let's leave that to what this writer has in mind. 

For all you know we might all get stumped again with what is coming next  :shy:
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Pl cont
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Three holes of this bitch should be fucked by prakash, Raj and Arjun at same time.
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Looks like getting too slow and repeated. Better to change location.
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Waiting for update..
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Fantastic story
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After bathing, the steam was still around me.

It was clinging softly to my skin.

Like some invisible shawl was covering my body.

Warm. Moist. Floating.

But not touching with weight — just staying there like air that refused to leave.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stood there with the towel in my hand.

It was a little wet from the bath.

I started wiping slowly.

Legs first — down the shins, around the ankles, between the toes.

Then the thighs — soft, wide.

Still damp near the folds.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I moved to my arms.

One, then the other.

Underarms still had drops.

I wiped them softly.

Then brought the towel to my chest.

Slowly.

Like I didn’t want to disturb the skin there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The chest was warm.

And already half-dry.

But the towel moved — gently pressing, then patting.

Over the middle.

Then under.

Then between the two breasts.

My cheeks were hot.

But not from bath.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not from water.

Not from heat.

It was that other thing.

That lingering thing in the lower belly.

That feeling that refused to go.

The one that stayed like memory between the thighs.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared at myself.

In the mirror above the bucket.

My hair was flat — sticking near the temple.

Neck had small droplets.

My collarbone looked shiny.

My face looked calm.

But my eyes…


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My eyes knew everything.

They knew what I was fighting.

What I had felt.

What I was still feeling.

I whispered to myself.

“No.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Temple means clean heart.”

“Clean mind.”

No dirty thoughts.

No leftover heat.

Just prayer.

Just calm.

I tied the towel around my chest.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


One knot in the middle.

The towel came till mid-thigh.

My back was open.

Hair was wet near the spine.

I stepped out of bathroom.

Floor was cold.

Feet stuck slightly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I walked to cupboard.

Opened it with one soft pull.

Looked inside.

Sarees were folded neatly.

I picked the green one.

That soft one with gold border.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Cotton-silk blend.

Not too shiny.

Not too dull.

It had that mature look.

Simple but beautiful.

I took it out and placed it on the bed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then chose the matching blouse.

Dark green.

Hook-back.

No zip.

Proper.

Then found the matching bra.

Firm. Full.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Tight petticoat.

Drawstring type.

Not elastic.

Old-fashioned.

But it held better.

I laid everything on the bed.

One by one.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Panty was last.

Light beige.

Little loose on one side.

But clean.

I touched it once — just to check.

Then wore it first.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It slipped on easily.

Covered me fully.

Then the bra.

I bent forward slightly.

Pulled the cups under.

Pressed each breast into place.

Then pulled the straps.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Tightened them both.

It lifted me properly.

Then the petticoat.

I stepped in.

Tied the string on my left.

One strong pull.

Waist looked tighter now.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then came the blouse.

I put my hands behind.

Started hooking one by one.

First was easy.

Second — okay.

Third — little tight.

Last one — I had to hold breath.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But I did it.

Hooked.

Chest felt held.

Back felt straight.

Then finally — the saree.

I wrapped it slowly.

Pleated in front.

Tucked into petticoat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Looked in mirror.

Adjusted edge.

Then brought pallu over shoulder.

Let it fall loose.

Pinned it on shoulder.

One small silver safety pin.

Done.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I turned to the side.

Checked again.

Even I was surprised.

Boobs looked full.

Round.

Properly lifted.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Shape was visible.

Not vulgar.

But clearly there.

The pleats were pressing gently under them.

Even the nipples…

Just slightly showing when I turned to the light.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But not visible to the eye.

Just hinted.

My backside…

I turned again.

Looked at the curve in mirror.

That shape.

That proud shape.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The petticoat had hugged it fully.

Not sagging.

Not loose.

Just… full.

Firm.

A small belly was there too.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Below navel.

Round.

Soft.

But clean.

It looked womanly.

I smiled at the mirror.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You’re looking too much.”

I said it softly.

Still my eyes stayed.

I did one full turn.

Hair still wet.

Towel around shoulders.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I patted my cheek once.

“You’re going to temple.”

Second pat.

“Control, Pavi.”

“You’re not some youg girl.”

“You’re one housewife going to pray.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still…

I pulled open drawer.

Took kajal.

One dot on chin.

Another one on neck.

For drishti.

Then lip balm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just pink tint.

Not lipstick.

Just softness.

Then powder.

Near nose.

Not too much.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No bindi.

Only kumkum.

One red line.

Between brows.

Then I walked to pooja shelf.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Lit one matchstick.

Smell came — oil, burnt cotton.

One diya burned.

I folded hands.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Please god…”

My lips moved silently.

“Control my brain.”

“Stop this body heat.”

“Stop this mad feelings.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Give me strength.”

Then I got up.

Took my handbag.

Put tissues.

Phone.

Coins for temple.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I left home.

Locked door.

One turn.

Second turn.

Keys felt cold.

Pressed lift button.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It came down slow.

Doors opened.

I stood inside.

Alone.

Pressed G.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Lights blinked.

7…

6…

5…

Floor numbers going down.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Still calm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Face looked peaceful.

Chest wasn’t rising.

No signs.

Nothing naughty.

Doors opened.

I stepped out.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Evening sun touched my arm.

Gate was half open.

Wind came.

Right near my hip.

Soft breeze.

I walked.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I saw him.

Prakash.

Near the stool.

Reading paper.

But his eyes came up.

Green saree caught him.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He saw it.

He saw me.

Not like stranger.

Like memory.

Like something returned to his mind.

I kept walking.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No smile.

No pause.

Straight path.

He stood.

Adjusted belt.

Eyes followed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I made mistake.

I looked.

Just one second.

Our eyes met.

And then—

That twitch.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That pull.

Inside panty.

Sharp.

Fast.

My pussy clenched.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That feeling.

Electric.

Like soft wire touched the inner lip.

I swallowed.

Blink.

“No…”

“Not now.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t speak.

Didn’t smile.

Just stood.

Knowing.

Watching.

I picked up pace.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Passed gate.

Turned left.

Road bent ahead.

My steps got faster.

Temple was few minutes away.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My feet went faster.

Step by step.

Like they had some purpose.

Like walking itself would push the heat out of my body.

Like each footstep was scolding the next.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Go,” it said.

“Keep going.”

“Don’t stop.”

“As if walking will chase the lust away.”

That was the thought.

That was the hope.

That my legs could do what my brain couldn’t.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The temple gate came closer.

No crowd.

Just calm.

Peace.

Stone path ahead.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Soft chanting from speaker.

Slow.

One male voice repeating stotra lines.

No instruments.

Just voice and echo.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No special day.

Or maybe just Tuesday quiet.

That ordinary temple silence.

Where breath itself becomes loud.

Where thoughts become prayers.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I reached the steps.

Removed sandals.

One foot lifted.

Then the other.

Felt the ground already cooler.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I walked to side tap.

Bent slightly.

Pressed the steel head down.

Thin stream of water.

I cupped both hands under it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Water ran cold.

I washed both hands.

Palms.

Back.

Then bent lower.

Washed feet.

Ankles.

Heels.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The stone was slippery.

But I wiped legs dry.

Palms ran down calves.

Toes wiped on inner pallu.

Not perfect — but clean.

Then I stepped toward entrance.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Stone inside was colder.

It pulled the heat from under my feet.

The air was cooler too.

Mixed with agarbatti smoke.

And that thick sandalwood smell.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It hit softly near the nose.

Then filled chest.

I walked slowly.

One bell rang somewhere in the far corner.

A priest maybe.

Or just some devotee.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The sound echoed.

Sharp then fading.

I folded my hands.

Automatically.

Palms pressed.

Eyes closed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Ganesha idol was in front.

Big.

Bright.

Orange garland around him.

Fresh yellow petals below.

He looked calm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like always.

Always watching.

I whispered inside.

“I don’t want any man.”

“Not Raj. Not Prakash. Not Arjun.”

“Not anybody.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My lips didn’t move.

Only mind was speaking.

“I just want my husband to come back.”

“Even if he’s boring…”

“Even if he doesn’t touch me right…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“He’s mine.”

My fingers pressed tighter together.

Knuckles bent softly inward.

My forehead leaned slightly forward.

But body… body was not calm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My back still felt him.

That stare.

That heat.

Like Prakash’s eyes were standing behind me in the temple too.

Breathless.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My hips… still remembered Raj.

Still shaped by his touch.

And my navel…

It tingled.

Soft and tight — that old echo.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I opened one eye.

Peeped at god.

His smile was same.

Fixed.

Like he was watching me struggle.

Not angry. Not laughing. Just… watching.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Please let me be on control,” I whispered inside.

“Give me strength.”

My shoulders dropped slightly.

I sighed once.

Let the air go.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Folded hands again.

Proper this time.

No shaking.

No movement.

One old lady came beside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Wearing pale orange saree.

She didn’t look at me.

Just folded hands.

I stepped back.

Three small steps.

To give space.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But even while standing back…

My body was not listening.

Still waiting.

Still tingling.

Like skin was waiting for something to touch.

Like it didn’t care where we were.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gritted teeth.

Softly.

“Stop thinking,” I told myself.

Firm voice.

Low breath.

Then looked down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Black stone.

With yellow paint lines.

Old paint. Faded.

But today…

Even that looked dirty to me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I shook head.

“You’re mad, Pavitra.”

“Came temple also and thinking bad.”

My hand flew up — covered my mouth.

I almost laughed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then folded hands again.

Proper one last time.

“God…”

“Please…”

“Just freeze my body for two days.”

“Please.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I turned.

Walked out slowly.

No rush.

Bell rang again behind.

But I didn’t look back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I came to pray.

And I did.

Mind was not pure.

But effort was there.

That should count.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I was ready to leave.

Still horny.

Still guilty.

Still trying.

But at least I hadn’t fallen.

Yet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I was walking back toward the apartment.

Temple felt calm.

Mind little lighter.

Body…

Still hot.

But not boiling.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just manageable now.

Evening breeze came again.

Soft.

Pallu fluttered behind me.

That green-gold cloth lifted with every step.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Some pleats were loosening.

Near the hip.

They shifted.

Moved from place.

I didn’t fix it.

Let it be.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My navel peeked out.

Skin showed between blouse edge and pleats.

One line.

Soft.

Visible only for a second.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked down.

Saw it.

“Ayyyo, cover…” I whispered to myself.

But feet kept moving.

Not rushing.

Not dragging.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just soft steps.

Normal.

Even breath.

The gate came into view.

Almost there.

Then — sudden sound.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Whrrrrrr—

Like one tiny motor.

A cycle came flying.

One boy.

Cycling fast.

Didn’t even brake.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He swerved at last minute.

Tyre just missed the edge of my saree.

Border shook.

“AYY!” I shouted.

Stepped back quickly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My bag slipped.

From shoulder.

Almost hit the ground.

My right foot twisted slightly.

I wobbled.

My body bent forward.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Almost fell.

Heart jumped.

Then suddenly—

One hand.

Strong.

Tight around my forearm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Another under my elbow.

Pulled.

Fast.

No asking.

No hesitation.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My body jerked.

Back into standing.

Like force had lifted me.

One hard step forward.

Then the voice came—


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Careful!”

I heard him say.

Prakash.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I didn’t even see.

Where he came from.

How he came.

How fast.

Like he just appeared.

Right there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Now he was in front of me.

Fully there.

Holding my arm.

His fingers wrapped around.

Firm.

Real.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His palm was tight.

Not gentle.

Not soft.

Just full.

Full on my skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His body was close.

Not touching.

But so near.

His breath…

It was already reaching me.

Near my cheek.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I straightened quickly.

Too quickly.

Body pulled itself upright.

Head came up.

Eyes blinked fast.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I shook my arm.

Lightly.

To free from him.

That skin.

Still inside his grip.

His palm slowly let go.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What the hell…” I muttered.

Half voice.

Half breath.

Not to him.

Not to me.

Just out.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My chest…

It rose.

Then fell.

Then rose again.

That breath was heavy.

Not from anger.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


From something else.

That pull…

That strength…

That way his hand had caught me…

It hit me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Right through my spine.

Sharp.

Sudden.

Like someone pressed button.

Near the waist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And then—

No warning.

No thinking.

A twitch.

Inside me.

Down there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Pussy.

That same place.

It pulsed.

Once.

Then…

A drop.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Warm.

Sticky.

Small but clear.

I felt it.

Felt it move.

Right between the lips.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Panty got damp.

Just like that.

Not from thought.

Not from touch.

Only from that one pull.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Four days.

I remembered.

Four full days.

Since I felt a hand.

On my body.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And now this.

Even though it was just help.

Even though it was innocent.

Just catching me.

Still…

My body didn’t care.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bit my lip.

Pressed it.

To stop the breath.

To stop the memory.

Then I turned.

Sharp.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You’re doing duty or playing blind man?” I snapped.

Fast.

Hard voice.

Trying to hide my own shame.

Trying to scold the heat away.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His eyes widened.

Just slightly.

He stepped back.

One inch.

Maybe two.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Sorry madam…”

His voice came.

Low.

Soft.

Careful.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Sorry?”

I said again.

Half anger.

Half breath.

“If I had fallen, what?”

“If some old person came?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I didn’t see him coming—”

“You’re security!” I scolded louder.

Voice louder than needed.

Trying to push guilt into words.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Not traffic cone!”

He nodded.

Head down.

No backtalk.

No smart words.

Just quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You know what’ll happen if some old aunty falls?”

“Hip fracture.”

He nodded again.

“Yes madam.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Tell those kids.”

“This is not race track!”

“Yes madam. I’ll tell now.”

He turned.

Looked around.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Boy was gone.

Already disappeared.

But still…

He shouted.

“No cycle near gate!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Go play inside!”

“Not near vehicles!”

I stood there.

Arms still tense.

Body still angry.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But not really angry.

Not at him.

At me.

At myself.

Because…

Even while scolding…


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I was remembering.

His fingers.

That grip.

That heat.

How it pressed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


How it held my skin.

Firm.

Warm.

Rough.

That one place on my forearm…


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It still tingled.

Not from pain.

But memory.

Not gone yet.

Still there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He came back.

Bent down.

Picked my bag.

Dusted it.

No words.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just actions.

Then held it out.

Toward me.

I didn’t take it.

Not immediately.

Paused.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Two seconds.

No talk.

No eye contact.

Then my hand moved.

Took it.

Just took.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No thank you.

No smile.

No glance.

Just turned.

But my eye…

Noticed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His shirt.

It was clean.

Proper.

Not the usual dull brown.

This one was washed.

Ironed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Crease on pant leg.

Fresh.

Shirt tucked in.

Buttons neat.

Belt straight.

Shoes polished.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I blinked once.

Prakash?

Presentable?

Why?

For what?

For who?


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked up again.

Fast.

Checked his face.

No smile.

No expression.

Just eyes.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Eyes soft.

Not lusty.

Just watching.

Quiet.

Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned quickly.

Pressed lift button.

Didn’t look again.

Didn’t let myself.

Didn’t allow it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But brain…

It whispered.

“He wore new uniform for who?”

“He’s standing extra alert today.”

“Maybe…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Maybe hoping I’ll invite him for food today?”

I bit my lip again.

Pressed it hard.

“No.”

“No, Pavitra.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You’re not doing that again.”

“You’re going to stay calm.”

“No one.”

Lift came.

Doors opened.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stepped in.

Railing brushed my thigh.

Panty still damp.

Still.

Just from one pull.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Body’s gone mad,” I muttered.

Out loud.

Low voice.

“Even pulling hand is enough now.”

Lift moved.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Numbers rising.

My bag strap slipped.

I pulled it back.

My hand touched chest once.

Felt fabric.

Still okay.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Looked at mirror.

Green saree still proper.

Pallu pinned.

But face?

Face was different.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Cheeks pink.

Lips shiny.

Eyes slightly watery.

Not tears.

Just too much.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked down.

Whispered again.

“You’re going home.”

“To lie down.”

“To drink water.”

“To forget everything.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Lift stopped.

Door opened.

I stepped out.

Walked to door.

Unlocked.

Entered.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Closed it behind me.

Back leaned against it.

Just one second.

Body sagged slightly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Took breath.

Big one.

Let it out.

Then whispered—

“God…”

“I went temple only…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Why like this again…”

“Give me strength.”

And walked inside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It was around 7pm.

Evening had softened.

The light outside the window was orange.

Soft orange.

Like someone had dipped the sky in haldi.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Inside, the flat was quiet.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Just me.

Alone.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My body…

Still humming.

Still faintly warm from that Prakash moment.

That grip.

That stare.

That save.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But I told myself — move on.

“Enough,” I said inside.

That was gate.

This is home.

I walked.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Feet were slow.

No rush.

No energy.

I entered the kitchen.

My stomach didn’t want food.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just tea.

Simple tea.

Nothing fancy.

Nothing spicy.

No cravings.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I switched on stove.

Turned knob.

Then clicked the lighter.

Blue flame appeared.

Round. Calm. Humming.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I took milk pouch.

From fridge.

Felt cold in hand.

Tore corner.

Poured into small pan.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


White milk.

Thin stream.

Bubbled at base.

I added half spoon sugar.

Not full.

Just enough.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Simple tea only,” I whispered.

No drama.

No masala.

Just warmth.

I stood there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Holding spoon.

Watching.

Waiting.

The boil came slowly.

Tiny bubbles.

Then full foam.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Two minutes.

That’s all it took.

Then—

Pfff.

Click. Click. Click.

Flame gone.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I blinked.

Waited.

Turned knob off.

Then back on.

Tried lighter.

Click-click.

Nothing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Again.

Click.

Nothing.

Again.

No flame.

“What now…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bent down.

Checked pipe.

Hands on knees.

Felt the rubber line.

Tight.

No smell.

No hissing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No leak.

Just…

Empty.

Gas was over.

I stood slowly.

Back straightened.

Mouth sighed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Eyes went to wall corner.

The other room.

The cylinder.

Spare one.

Covered in plastic.

Big. Heavy. Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Usually Kartik does this…” I said aloud.

It was his work.

His muscle.

My part was chai.

Not lifting weights.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still, I looked at closed room.

Saree still on me.

Same green from temple.

Pleats had shifted.

Blouse felt tight.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Strap biting into shoulder.

I adjusted pallu.

Fingers tugged gently.

Then I walked.

One step.

Then another.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Door creaked.

Soft sound.

Room was dim.

But I saw it.

Cylinder sitting near table.

Like some lazy uncle.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Plastic sheet was half torn.

Edges curled.

It was waiting.

Like it knew.

“Ok,” I whispered.

“Just drag it out.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Nothing big.”

I bent down.

Both hands grabbed rim.

One side, then the other.

Pulled.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It didn’t move.

Stone.

Dead.

Heavy.

“Ayyyo…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I twisted it.

Slightly.

Rolled edge.

Rubber base tilted.

Moved one inch.

Ok.

Not bad.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Started dragging.

Tiny steps.

Tile scratched.

Sound came.

Like old dog coughing.

I smiled.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Sorry, tile,” I said.

“One scratch won’t kill you.”

I kept pulling.

Toward door.

Closer.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Only one step left.

Divider frame.

2-inch plank.

Kartik’s genius idea.

Now final part.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Now lift…”

I whispered.

Bend knees.

Grip sides.

Hold breath.

One pull.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And then—

“AHHH—shit—ayyyyo—”

My back.

Snapped.

Not full.

Just enough.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Sharp pain.

Behind hip.

Right side.

Above butt curve.

Like metal rod jabbed there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I froze.

Hands let go.

Cylinder dropped.

Thud.

Heavy on floor.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My body bent.

Halfway.

Pallu almost fell.

One hand on wall.

Other on back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Couldn’t stand straight.

“Ok ok ok…”

I whispered.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.”

Lying voice.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Pain was there.

Still sharp.

Not crying pain.

But groaning pain.

Stubborn.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stood like old grandma.

Back curved.

Twisted neck.

Left. Right.

Small crack sound.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Took few steps.

Wincing.

Still hurting.

But walking.

I looked at cylinder.

Still sitting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Mocking.

Smiling.

“You win,” I said.

“Big victory, no?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Making one lady beg man for help.”

I sat slowly.

On sofa edge.

Not full sit.

Just perch.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Adjusted pleats.

Leaning forward.

Back allowed it.

But pinched.

Groan escaped.

I glared upward.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“God…”

Soft whisper.

“You serious?”

“I went temple.”

“Prayed.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I said I don’t want any man.”

“And now you give me back pain?”

“You think this is funny?”

No reply.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Only tube light flickered.

Above fridge.

My eye twitched.

I picked up phone.

Scrolled.

Security – P.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Stared at name.

One second.

Two.

“Don’t do it, Pavi…”

“You know what will happen.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But some other part answered.

“What will happen?”

“He’ll come.”

“Fix it.”

“Go.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You’re not giving you.”

“Only gas cylinder.”

I rolled my eyes.

Still clicked.

Call.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Ringing.

One.

Two.

Three.

No answer.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Four.

Still ringing.

Then—

Cut.

“Didn’t pick.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared at screen.

Felt insulted.

“Now also I’m ready to beg…”

“And he’s not even picking.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Back still aching.

Phone still in hand.

But down there…

That place…

It was smiling.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Tingling came back.

Same spot.

Right behind panty line.

Warmth.

Soft.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I clenched.

Habit.

Body’s own reaction.

Back didn’t like it.

Sharp stab.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Hisss…”

“Stupid body.”

“Can’t even suffer in peace.”

I dropped phone on sofa.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Closed eyes.

One second.

One breath.

“I’ll try again.”

“If he doesn’t pick…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I’ll drag that stupid cylinder to sink.”

“Let it fall.”

“If house burns…”

“Let it burn.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No man.”

“No cock.”

“No help.”

Body twitched again.

Still.

But I didn’t move.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just sat.

Waiting.

Debating.

Back paining.

Pussy laughing.

Heart not sure.
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Nice distraction, but was this really the originally planned update or was this a last minute change of plans to engage the readers?
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Great updates. Neatly presenting the conflict between the body and mind of Pavi. Erotic teases at the right moments.
[+] 1 user Likes lanevreddy's post
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(06-08-2025, 12:22 AM)sexypreeti Wrote: Nice distraction, but was this really the originally planned update or was this a last minute change of plans to engage the readers?
Good observation. Actually, this direction was always in my mind — I was just waiting for the right moment. Pavitra is reaching a point where her own fire is becoming too strong to hide under daily routines. I wanted to explore how far she can go… how much she can play with that heat before it breaks her. This isn’t a random shift — it’s part of a deeper arc I’ve been building slowly. Before Kartik returns, she has to explore everything. Every edge. Every mistake. Every emotion. Only then she can return to her normal life — not confused, not curious, but fully burnt out and clear. That’s where the story is going. You’ll see.
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(06-08-2025, 01:15 AM)yazhiniram Wrote: Good observation. Actually, this direction was always in my mind — I was just waiting for the right moment. Pavitra is reaching a point where her own fire is becoming too strong to hide under daily routines. I wanted to explore how far she can go… how much she can play with that heat before it breaks her. This isn’t a random shift — it’s part of a deeper arc I’ve been building slowly. Before Kartik returns, she has to explore everything. Every edge. Every mistake. Every emotion. Only then she can return to her normal life — not confused, not curious, but fully burnt out and clear. That’s where the story is going. You’ll see.

சிறந்த முடிவு Bro......எந்த ஒரு தேடலும் முழுமை அடைந்தால் வாழ்வில் மாற்றம்தான் சிலர் அந்த புதிய தேடல் பின்னாடியே செல்வதால்தான் நிறைய பிரச்சனையை சந்திக்கிறார்கள். horseride
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Pavitra is struggling for sure she needs all the heat
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Mind blowing update bro....the narration is so sexy and wonderful keeping full attention
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Two minutes later…

My phone rang.

Sudden.

Sharp.

Like it had been waiting.

Like it knew what I was thinking.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked down.

Lit screen.

Name glowing.

Prakash calling.

I exhaled.

Rolled my head to one side.

Muttered softly—

“Finally, hero is calling?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still I picked up.

Slid green button.

“Hello?” I said.

Flat voice.

No smile.

No welcome.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Hello… madam…”

His voice.

Soft.

Careful.

Almost breathy.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ohhh!” I said loudly.

Voice went up.

“Sir is finally free ah?”

“Very busy schedule?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam, I was—”

“I called five minutes back.”

“Not fifty.”

“What were you doing?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No no, I was just—”

“Stop.”

I snapped.

“Don’t want your life story.”

“Just listen.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Yes madam.”

“Come to flat.”

“Now?”

“No, next Diwali.”

My voice sharp.

“Yes, now only.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He paused.

One second.

“Okay madam… any reason?”

I blinked.

My mouth opened.

My jaw tightened.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Eh! What you said?”

“Any… work is there or…”

I sat up straighter.

Back complaining.

Eyebrows raised.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You want reason ah?”

“You’re security or lawyer?”

“No madam… sorry…”

“When I say come—just come.”

“That’s the rule.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Yes madam.”

“Don’t ask questions.”

He was quiet.

Fully silent.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Next five minutes.”

“I don’t want you taking one full round of building.”

“Yes madam. Coming now.”

“Very good.”

I cut the call.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Phone tossed beside me.

Soft thump on cushion.

I leaned back again.

Back still aching.

Not breaking. But biting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my mind?

That one was racing.

Talking.

Arguing.

Laughing at me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What is this, Pavi…”

“You’re calling him again?”

“It’s just for cylinder,” I told myself.

“One dirty metal piece. Not dick.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But body…

That was not innocent.

That was not holy.

Chest was calm.

Breath steady.

But down…


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Lower part.

Panty place.

Still damp.

Still soft.

Still smiling.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like it knew.

Knew what was coming.

I stood slowly.

Back stretched.

Pain warned me again.

Sharp poke.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I winced.

Sighed.

Then I patted my own backside.

Soft tap.

“Don’t show off when he comes,” I whispered.

“Stand straight. Be dignified.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Two minutes.

Passed.

Then three.

Then—

Ding-dong.

One sharp ring.

I adjusted pallu.

Quickly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Fingers checked blouse hook.

Still tight.

Then walked.

Not limping.

Not hurrying.

Just firm steps.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Peep-hole flap lifted.

I peeked.

Corridor was empty.

Quiet.

Only him.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Standing straight.

One hand behind.

Other adjusting belt.

Uniform was still new.

Still crisp.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I opened door.

One small crack first.

Peeked again.

No neighbours.

No kids.

No aunties.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Come in,” I said.

Voice normal.

He nodded.

Stepped inside.

Two steps.

Stopped.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His eyes…

Looked at face.

Then body.

Then…

He saw it.

That limp.

That tiny shift.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Madam… what happened?”

His voice changed.

Little worry.

I turned sharply.

Eyebrows up.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Why you care like that?”

“No… just saw you walking little… different…”

“You’re tracking my legs now?”

“No madam… just asking—”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t ask.”

“Just listen.”

“Yes madam.”

“Come. Kitchen.”

I turned.

He followed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Each step…

I felt it.

His eyes behind me.

Not touching.

But following.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bit my cheek.

Just a little.

Not shame.

Just control.

Because heat had returned.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That soft heat.

Under stomach.

Not burning.

Just smouldering.

Like memory of his hand near gate.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I shook my head.

Tiny shake.

Focus.

Only gas.

We reached the cylinder.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“See this thing?” I said.

He nodded.

Looked down.

“I tried. It didn’t move.”

He bent.

Held top.

Lifted.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


One pull.

Done.

He walked.

Placed it near stove.

No sound.

No struggle.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like bucket of water.

I watched.

One second too long.

Then turned face quickly.

“Okay. Done.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Yes madam.”

“Now leave.”

I walked to him.

Hand up.

Shooed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He blinked.

Nodded.

“Okay madam…”

Turned.

Started to go.

But I…


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bent.

Knee down.

Hand forward.

Regulator.

Twist.

Pull.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But—

Snap.

Sharp ache.

Lower back.

Right curve.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ahh…”

Mouth opened.

Soft sound.

Hand caught stove.

Body froze.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


One second.

Still.

Pain throbbed.

I didn’t move.

Then said—

“Prakash…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He turned.

Fast.

Came back.

“Yes madam?”

“Come…”

He stepped closer.

Stood near.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Face looked confused.

Worried.

“My back is hurting.”

He bent slightly.

“What happened?”

“You happened.”

“Your gas happened.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“This stupid metal…”

“Sorry madam…”

“Sorry won’t fix.”

“Just help.”

He smiled.

Small.

Real.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Tell me what to do.”

That smile.

Like he was happy.

To be needed.

I saw it.

And rolled my eyes.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stood up slowly.

From the edge of the counter.

One palm pressing lightly there.

Supporting.

Balancing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Back still hurting.

Not sharp.

Not stabbing.

But still there.

Behind the hipbone.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like some small stone…

Pressed under skin.

Refusing to move.

Just sitting there.

Reminding.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I didn’t show it on my face.

No frown.

No wince.

I stood straight.

Pulled the pallu slightly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Smoothed it once.

Voice calm.

“Come to kitchen,” I said.

“Do one more thing.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He nodded.

No question.

No “what?”

No “why?”

Just nodded.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Walked behind me again.

Soft steps.

Quiet breath.

Respectful silence.

I walked ahead.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Inside kitchen.

I leaned.

One elbow on side shelf.

Very casual.

Pretending.

Like nothing was wrong.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But inside?

Inside…

I was clenching.

One small corner of saree.

In my fist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just holding.

Tight.

Distracting myself.

So pain won’t grow.

So desire won’t rise.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked at me once.

Then at the regulator.

Then again at me.

That pause.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That wrinkle.

Near his brow.

He had noticed something.

Maybe my face.

Maybe my posture.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Maybe the way I stood.

Tilted slightly.

Not full straight.

But he didn’t ask.

Didn’t point.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Smart fellow.

He just bent.

Down.

Quietly.

No noise.

No showing off.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Held the old regulator.

Fingers soft.

Twist.

Click.

Pull.

Done.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then fitted the new one.

Another click.

Another twist.

Firm.

Confident.

No drama.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then he stood.

Looked at me once.

No words.

Just a glance.

Then bent again.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Lifted the old cylinder.

That big, heavy thing.

Like it was nothing.

Arms went around.

Tight.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Metal hugged.

Pulled.

Balanced.

He carried it.

Like pillow.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared.

At his back.

At his shoulder.

Muscles under cloth.

Uniform stretched.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked away.

Fast.

“Control,” I told myself.

“Back is hurting.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“And you’re looking at man’s arm?”

He walked off.

To side room.

Placed cylinder near utility shelf.

Came back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Hands brushed.

Lightly.

Like removing dust.

Then he asked—

Soft voice.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Madam…”

“Shall I make tea?”

I blinked.

“What?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Tea.”

“I’ll make.”

“If… okay for you.”

I looked at him.

Eyebrows lifted.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Why not?”

“Already you’ve come and danced inside my kitchen.”

“Might as well do full performance.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He smiled.

Slight.

Not full grin.

Not shameless.

Just a small lift of cheek.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Where’s ginger, madam?”

“Above fridge.”

“Small piece is there.”

“Elachi?”

“Same place.”

“Yellow dappa. Back side.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Cardamom?”

“That’s elachi, fool.”

“Oh… okay…”

He nodded.

Opened fridge.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Hands moved.

Careful.

Each item placed gently.

Checked.

Sniffed.

Set aside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like trained cook.

Like small househusband.

I leaned on wall.

Arms crossed.

Eyes watching.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Back still aching.

But no wince.

I shifted weight.

Left foot to right.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He bent.

Opened drawer.

Looking.

“Green box,” I said.

“Left of sugar dabba.”

He found it.

Pulled it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Set everything neatly.

Then pan.

Small one.

Poured water.

Then milk.

Then sugar.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Started slicing ginger.

Back of spoon.

Not knife.

Small pieces.

I watched his hands.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Thick fingers.

Dark knuckles.

Scar on left thumb.

Wrist had light hair.

Veins showed when he moved.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That motion.

That rhythm.

I looked away.

Fast.

“Why you taking full sweet time?” I asked.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Tea only…”

“Sorry madam… I’m just… making properly.”

“Making properly ah?”

“You tea master or what?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He paused.

Then said—

“Yes madam.”

“Sometime back…”

“I worked tea stall.”

“In hometown.”

“One year.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I blinked.

“Seriously?”

“Hardworking, no?”

He smiled.

Small again.

Didn’t reply.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Milk boiled.

Ginger inside.

Elachi too.

Smell changed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Kitchen filled.

Spice.

Sugar.

Soft milk warmth.

He stirred slowly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I didn’t sit.

Even with pain.

I just stood.

Arms still folded.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Watched him stir.

Watched shoulder move.

He reached cupboard.

Took two cups.

Plastic.

Steel.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Turned.

“Which one, madam?”

“Steel.”

He poured.

Half.

Careful.

No spill.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Brought it to me.

Held forward.

I took.

Our fingers brushed.

One second.

Just skin to skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He stepped back.

Quiet again.

I looked down.

Steam rose.

Golden brown.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I sipped.

Softly.

Lips on rim.

Closed eyes.

Just little.

Then opened.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Looked at him.

“Not bad,” I said.

He waited.

No answer.

No jump.

Just standing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Another sip.

Warmth went down throat.

Ginger bite.

Elachi soft.

Milk perfect.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Even sugar.

Exactly right.

I looked again.

He was still.

Watching.

Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Looks like tea master didn’t forget skill,” I said.

“Thank you madam.”

“I didn’t say it’s good.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He nodded.

Calm.

Quiet.

Still that same soft face.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I sipped again.

Then said slowly:

“Still… better.”

He didn’t smile.

Just dipped head.

Like bowing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I walked.

Toward dining table.

Cup in both hands.

Each step—

Pull behind waist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But I didn’t limp.

Didn’t flinch.

Just walked.

Sat down slowly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Held the cup.

Whispered in mind:

“Perfect tea…”

“From wrong person.”

Still didn’t thank him.

Only drank.

And mocked.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I took one last sip of the tea.

Warm.

Still.

Let it swirl softly.

All around the tongue.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not drinking.

Just holding.

Then—

Swallowed.

Slowly.

Felt it slide down throat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That was the final drop.

The end.

I looked down at the cup.

Steel.

Thin.

Soft clinking sound when I tilted it once.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I held it out.

One hand.

Casual.

Like it meant nothing.

“Take it,” I said.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He stepped forward.

One step.

Not hurrying.

Just smooth.

His fingers reached.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Collected it.

Gently.

No brushing.

No touch.

Just took.

Turned back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Walked to sink.

No sound from feet.

Only small clink when cup touched steel.

He opened the tap.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Ran water slow.

No splash.

Just stream.

Calm.

Quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then scrubbed.

No sponge.

Only hand.

Fingers rubbed rim.

Then inside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I leaned.

On dining table edge.

One hand pressing softly on wood.

Hip tilted.

Body angled.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Back was still aching.

Still there.

Still whispering.

But I didn’t show.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Only my fingers curled tighter.

One small pleat in saree.

Held like thread.

Not letting go.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I watched him.

Arms moving.

Not fast.

Just steady.

Methodical.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Elbow flexed.

Shoulder shifted.

Tap water ran down cup.

His thumb circled the rim once.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Something about it…

Wrong.

But sweet.

Strange.

Like… he belonged here.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I said it.

Loud.

Sharp.

“You’re comfortable, ah?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He paused.

Looked at me.

Blink.

“Huh?”

“Cleaning cup,” I said.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Moving around.”

“Acting like it’s your home.”

“All okay for you?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam… I was just—”

“Just what?”

“Making yourself at home?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No no, madam—”

I stood.

Slowly.

Back pulled.

Pinched.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Face stayed blank.

Only pain underneath.

Barely flinched.

But he saw.

He noticed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He turned quickly.

Voice came.

“Madam—are you okay?”

I waved hand once.

Sharp gesture.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t act concerned now.”

“Pain came again?”

“It didn’t go only.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Shall I help?”

I stared.

Blank.

Still.

“You’re going to operate, ah?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He smiled.

Small.

Not wide.

Not teasing.

Just quiet smile.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam.”

“Just… I know how to press sprain spots.”

“Ohhh, doctor now?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam…”

“Just little knowledge.”

“Where you got it?”

“YouTube?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He shook head once.

“Grandmother.”

“She used to fix all family pain.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Your grandmother was orthopedic surgeon or what?”

“No…”

“Just… knew tricks.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I scoffed.

Snorted air through nose.

“Except study, you did everything no?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked down.

Smiled again.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t defend.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“That’s why ended up like this, ah?”

“Wearing this uniform.”

“Washing my cup.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t answer.

Only rinsed the glass.

Last time.

Turned it.

Placed it upside down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Tap still dripping.

One drop.

Then another.

I stood near the chair.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Hand on backrest.

Trying to straighten spine.

One warning came.

Back twisted slightly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I let out soft sound.

Not scream.

Just half-breath.

But he heard.

He turned.

Came near.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Where is the pain, madam?”

I looked.

Expression flat.

Then pointed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What will you do if I tell?”

“Just show once…”

“I’ll press.”

“That’s all.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ohhh, you’ve done this before, is it?”

“Yes madam.”

“I helped lot of people… who used to get sprain.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ahhh! Full service!”

“No madam.”

“Only if they asked.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You think I’m asking?”

He paused.

Didn’t push.

Just looked.

Gently.

Soft.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I sighed.

Then moved.

One hand went to pallu.

Lifted edge.

Away from waist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then tapped.

Back.

Lower part.

Just above curve.

“Not hips,” I said.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Here only.”

“Just above the ass.”

His eyes followed.

Traced.

Then nodded once.

“Okay, madam.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I was still sitting in the chair.

Back flat against the wooden rest.

The seat slightly hard under me.

Not soft.

Not cushioned.

Just enough.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My legs were parted slightly.

Not wide.

Just natural.

The way a saree falls when you sit.

Pleats settled in the middle.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The petticoat pulled a bit over my thighs.

That cotton tension.

That fabric tension.

Between my knees and hips.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Hands were resting on my thighs.

Both palms flat.

Not clenched.

Not fidgeting.

Just sitting calm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Fingers curled slightly.

Like holding quiet.

Not showing anything.

But body was not fully quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Pallu was pulled forward.

Neatly.

I had arranged it myself.

Tucked just enough to cover the blouse line.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But even then—

One side had slipped.

Barely.

That edge near my left side.

Falling just a bit.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Chest was covered.

But not hidden.

The shape still showed.

The outline was there.

Breathing soft beneath the fabric.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My back was warm.

Not just from pain.

Not anymore.

It was a new kind of heat now.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Tension heat.

That one which starts under skin.

Spreads like quiet fire.

Slowly.

Without drama.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I could feel him.

Behind me.

Not touching.

Not leaning.

Just there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Near enough.

Near enough for my skin to notice.

The hairs on my nape…

They knew.

They were standing now.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He stepped forward.

Soft.

Like foot not even touching floor.

Then said—

That same voice.

That same obedient softness.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Madam… can I?”

I turned slightly.

Neck twisted over shoulder.

Gave him that one look.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The eyebrow lift.

Just one.

Nothing else.

“For what?” I asked.

“Honeymoon?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He blinked.

Fast.

Eyes widened slightly.

Then said:

“For pressing… that spot.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I clicked my tongue.

Sharp.

Sideways.

“Why you’re asking like scared goat?” I said.

“You want to touch or not?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Only if you allow, madam…”

He stood still.

Didn’t move closer.

Didn’t step back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I leaned back.

One inch.

Neck touched the edge of the chair.

That curve cooled my skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then nodded once.

Just a small move.

“Okay,” I said.

“Go ahead.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He came closer.

Slow.

No sound.

Hands still by his side.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then slowly—

Only his right hand came up.

No rush.

No hurry.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He hovered.

Behind my back.

Not touching.

Just air.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I felt it.

The shift.

Air moved.

Pressure changed.

Before the fingers even landed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

Tap.

Fingertips touched.

Centre of my lower back.

Just rested.

No push.

No rub.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stiffened.

Not from pain.

Not from cold.

From something else.

Something deeper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That strange, dangerous heat.

That inner switch.

His hand was warm.

His fingers — dry, rough.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But the way he touched?

It was not greedy.

It was not wild.

It was like prayer.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Here, no?” he asked.

“No,” I said softly.

“Little higher.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He adjusted.

Didn’t ask again.

Just moved hand.

Slid up slightly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Now—

His fingers were just above the curve of my backside.

Right where the bone dips.

Right where nerve begins.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Here?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Okay madam…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He pressed.

Not suddenly.

Not sharp.

First gentle.

Then more.

Then—

Thumb came.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His thumb pressed sideways.

Into one line.

One nerve.

And then—

CRRKK.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


A sound.

Soft.

Inside.

Like knuckle popping.

But deeper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped.

“AYY!”

Eyes blinked fast.

Breath held.

Then released.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The pain?

Gone.

Just gone.

Like magic.

Like sin forgiven.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned.

Neck twisting again.

Looked at him.

“You did that?”

He nodded.

One simple nod.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Back okay now?”

I stood.

Slowly.

Cautious.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No flinch.

No groan.

No lean.

I was upright.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Wait wait wait…” I said.

“How you did?”

“My grandma…”

“She taught me.”

“Which bone to press…”

“Which way to twist…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“She was local doctor or what?”

“No…”

“Just home things.”

“Old village tricks.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I rolled my eyes.

“But it worked.”

“Yes madam.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I took two steps.

Light.

Easy.

Still no pain.

“Gone!” I said.

“Fully gone!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He smiled.

Not big.

Not proud.

Just soft.

Quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


As if…

Fixing me was normal.

His job.

His work.

His role.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Okay okay…” I said.

“Now what?”

“You came and did everything, no?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Yes madam.”

“Cylinder moved.”

“Gas connected.”

“Tea made.”

“Cup washed.”

“Backside pressed.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Yes madam.”

“Anything left?”

He thought.

One second.

Then shook head.

“No madam.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Good…”

I sat again.

Same chair.

But this time—

Full straight.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No leaning.

No wincing.

Back upright.

Shoulders proud.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Chest lifted.

Pallu neat.

Face calm.

Breath even.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just pure sitting.

Like queen.

Like actress.

No disturbance.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He stood.

Still nearby.

Still in uniform.

Still silent.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like villain.

Not loud one.

Not dangerous.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just waiting.

Still.

Still under control.

My control.

Exactly where I liked him.
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I was sitting straight now.

Proper.

Upright.

No slouching.

No twisting.

Back fixed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Body relaxed.

Not a single pain.

Not one muscle complaining.

Only softness.

Only stillness.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But the real problem?

That was not in my spine.

Or in my joints.

That was somewhere else.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Somewhere inside.

Underneath.

In that hidden place.

The one no pooja can clean.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Because ever since he touched me…

Something had started.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


A small twitch.

Very low.

Near panty line.

Where the cloth sits.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not strong.

Not sharp.

Just soft.

But it was growing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And then—

My eyes—

Like fool—

Went and looked.

Straight.

At his pants.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The bulge.

That curve.

That shape of cock pressing from inside the uniform cloth.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Firm.

Visible.

Rounded in the middle.

Wider near base.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My lips parted slightly.

One soft breath tried to come.

But didn’t.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Nothing came.

Only heat.

Only awareness.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I blinked.

Then quickly looked away.

Eyes sharp.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Idiot, Pavi,” I muttered inside.

“Why are you checking that?”

“You just prayed an hour ago.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned in the chair.

Slightly.

Legs stayed together.

Pressed thighs tighter.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But—

That made it worse.

Because the pressure—

It pushed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My pussy pulsed again.

One small throb.

Playful.

Knowing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like it had seen what I saw.

Like it wanted more.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He was still standing there.

Still silent.

Still facing me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked up sharply.

Voice came with it.

“Hello?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He blinked.

“Yes madam?”

“You again started staring?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam…”

I stood up.

Slow.

Careful.

Hands on hips.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Eyes narrow.

Voice sharp.

“You think you’re hero or what?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam…”

“Then why your eyes are travelling like ticket inspector?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Sorry madam…”

“Sorry? Keep your eyes in socket, not on my body!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Yes madam…”

He looked down.

Head bent.

Still.

Silent.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But that silence…

That guilt on his face…

It didn’t calm me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It made it worse.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Because now?

He looked…

Submissive.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still.

Obedient.

Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And that bulge?

Still there.

Still full.

Still awake.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My body…

That useless shameless body…

It throbbed again.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


One small beat.

Right inside.

Behind panty line.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I clenched.

Useless.

Pointless.

Still warm.

Still wet.

Still wanting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I closed my eyes.

One second.

Then cursed softly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“God, are you watching this?”

“I asked for strength. You gave me back pain.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I asked for control. You sent cock.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

Suddenly—

I stepped forward.

Sharp.

Fast.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His head lifted.

Confused.

Eyes looking.

Then—

PAK!


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My palm.

Right cheek.

Tight.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t expect it.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t block.

Just stood.

Breath held.

Eyes wide.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What are you looking at?” I snapped.

His mouth opened slightly.

Then—

“Madam…”

“What?”

“…today you’re looking very beautiful.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared.

Jaw dropped slightly.

Breath caught.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What did you say?”

He swallowed.

Still looking down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I just said…”

“You just said? You’ve started saying directly ah? Praising?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam… I didn’t mean—”

PAKKK!


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Second slap.

Left cheek.

His head jerked slightly.

But still—

He stood.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Your tongue is becoming long no?”

“No madam…”

“Why? You think I’m wearing saree for you?”

“No madam…”

“Make tea means compliment also you’ll give ah?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Did I ask your opinion?”

“No madam…”

He paused.

Then voice dropped.

“But it’s true…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared.

Brows lifted.

Slow breath.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ohhh! So now you’re confident?”

“No madam…”

“You’ll tell me I’m beautiful like that?”

“You are, madam.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“And what next?”

“You’ll say you want to love me ah?”

“No madam… never…”

“You’ll touch feet and propose?”

“No madam…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stepped forward.

Close.

Now face to face.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I should break your teeth.”

He looked down again.

Still didn’t move.

Still quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That bulge?

Still there.

Bigger now.

Taller.

Thicker.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And me?

My body was lost.

Gone.

Fully betrayed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Chest was rising.

Soft.

Not heaving.

Just awake.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Thighs pressing together.

Not hiding.

Just holding.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Panty?

Warm.

Wet.

Laughing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I could feel it.

Clearly.

Sticky under the cotton.

Alive.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And I knew.

I knew one thing.

If I didn’t stop now—

I’d lose.

Fully.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But I didn’t stop.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked down.

At it.

The shape.

The size.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Thick.

Long.

Tugging against cloth.

Like trying to escape.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Waiting.

Waiting for me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Just stood.

Like soldier.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I shook my head.

Whispered.

“This is not me.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But I stepped.

One final step.

And then—

Without warning…

Without plan…


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I reached down.

My hand.

Fast.

Wrapped.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Grabbed it.

Full.

Firm.

Alive.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Through the cloth.

Thick.

Hot.

Heavy in palm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I froze.

So did he.

Air paused.

Nothing moved.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It was huge.

Hard.

Throbbing faint.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And I wasn’t even sure…

If this was fully hard yet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My hand was still there.

Still wrapped.

Still holding.

That thick, throbbing thing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Inside his pants.

Inside my grip.

Firm.

Heavy.

Alive.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my whole body…

Not still.

Not calm.

Just…

Shivering.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not violently.

Not shaking like fear.

Just slow.

Trembling.

One small wave under the skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My chest?

It was rising.

Not heaving.

Not gasping.

Just full breath.

Each one warm.

Heavy.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my control?

Gone.

That calm, temple-woman voice?

Vanished.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Prayer?

Thrown.

God?

Out.

Temple?

Forgotten like yesterday's newspaper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But my face?

It didn’t show.

Not one crack.

Not one flicker.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just calm.

Blank.

Like I’m bargaining tomato price.

Not holding one man’s cock.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

PAKKK!

Another slap.

Sharp.

Quick.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


This time?

Left cheek.

My palm flat.

Hard.

Deliberate.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His head jerked slightly.

But only slight.

Didn’t cry out.

Didn’t stumble.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just stood.

Still.

Silent.

Like scolded child.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And under my hand?

Still that cock.

Still full.

Still pressing up into my palm like it had opinion.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Eyes down.

Mouth open just a little.

Breath hot near his lips.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I spoke sharp.

Proper scolding tone.

“What is this, ah?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He blinked.

“…Madam…”

“Why it’s standing like tower?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I… I didn’t…”

“You gave small back sprain and now this thing is doing parade?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I didn’t mean…”

“Meaning you’re doing physical therapy or starting love making?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam… I swear…”

“You swear? To who? Your grandmother?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He swallowed again.

Throat moved.

But still standing.

Still bulging.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stepped.

Closer.

Just one half step.

But now?

My chest was near.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Almost touching him.

Not brushing.

But near enough that heat passed between us.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His cock?

Still there.

Still pressing.

Still pulsing.

Like second gas stove near my waist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But my face?

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t twitch.

Just eyes steady.

Cold.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked into his eyes.

And said:

“Don’t think I won’t slap again.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He nodded quickly.

“I’m sorry, madam.”

“I didn’t say sorry. I asked what you’re thinking.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“…Nothing, madam…”

“Nothing? Then why your cock is thinking everything?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He bit his lip.

Eyes still down.

Face guilty.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I didn’t… I was just helping…”

“Helping? That’s your help? Standing like construction pole in middle of kitchen?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I couldn’t stop…”

“Ohhh… now also it’s not stopping no?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I backed away.

One full step.

My hand let go.

But eyes didn’t.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned.

Showed him my side.

Not full.

Just angle.

Just curve.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The saree had shifted slightly.

Pallu still over my shoulder.

But pleats?

Too tight now.

Hugging belly like cling film.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my navel?

It was showing.

Small.

Deep.

Soft line between blouse and pleat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned my head slowly.

Looked at him.

Saw it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His eyes.

Exactly where I thought.

Not on face.

Not on foot.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Right at the hip.

That skin.

That line.

That belly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like bee looking at sugar.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I clicked tongue.

“Hello.”

He looked up.

“Yes madam.”

“Your eyes are going there no?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam…”

“Liar. Just now you were doing full sightseeing.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam, I was just—”

“You want to touch ah?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He froze.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I said it again.

Louder.

“You want to touch my hip and navel area?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked down again.

Didn’t answer.

Didn’t deny.

Didn’t run.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I waited.

Arms crossed.

Brows up.

Just staring.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then finally—

He nodded.

Small.

One single nod.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like collegeboy caught cheating.

Like dog asking permission.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I smiled.

Slight.

But sharp.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not kind smile.

Not warm smile.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That naughty one.

The one I use when shopkeeper overcharges.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Go then.”

He blinked.

“What?”

I pointed down.

Right at the hip curve.

That spot where saree was gripping tight.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Go and touch.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He hesitated.

But his hand?

It moved.

Slow.

Quiet.

Scared.

Hungry.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like it was listening more to cock than to brain.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And I?

I just stood.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


One hand resting on hip.

Other still pointing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My belly?

Already tingling.

Waiting.

Calling.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But my face?

Still blank.

Still calm.

Still top position.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And his fingers?

They were coming closer.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand…

It was coming.

Closer.

Not fast.

Not jumping.

Just quiet.

Like it knew the way.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like some magnet.

Pulling toward my skin.

Soft pull.

From air.

From heat.

From… somewhere deeper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And me?

I stood still.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t twitch.

Just watched.

Let it come.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Let it reach —

One inch…

Then one more…

Then just two inches away…

Then—

SLAP!


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not his cheek.

Not his face.

Just his hand.

A sharp one.

Open palm.

Straight on the fingers.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I blocked it.

Hard.

Fast.

“ENNNNNNH!”

That snap.

Like angry teacher catching naughty boy.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He froze.

Mid-air.

Hand paused.

Eyes wide.

Mouth slightly open.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I told you to touch…”

My voice was sharp.

Low.

Scolding.

“…so immediately you come forward, ah?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His face?

Confused.

Like baby monkey who lost tree.

“M-Madam… you only said…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ohhh I said. So you’ll do everything I say ah?”

His mouth moved.

“I thought—”

“You don’t think. You’re not genius.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“…Sorry madam…”

His hand was still raised.

Frozen.

Like statue in museum.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gave one small push.

Not big.

Just flicked my wrist and moved his arm.

But inside my palm?

Ayyo.

That forearm.

Like rock.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I had to give effort to push.

Not joking effort.

Real one.

One full bangle shifted from my wrist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Your hand is made of rock or what?”

I asked.

But I grinned.

A bit.

Couldn’t help it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t reply.

Just stood.

Looking.

Lost.

Like student without textbook.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And I?

I laughed.

Real one.

Not giggle.

Not nervous.

Proper full laugh.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Scared?” I asked.

Still laughing.

“You don’t even know if I’m joking or not.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked down.

“I don’t understand, madam…”

“Of course you don’t. That’s why you’re like this.”

“I thought you were serious…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You thought ah?”

I raised both eyebrows.

“Next time I say jump from terrace, you’ll also go flying?”

“No madam…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned.

One half-circle.

Hair moved over my shoulder.

Pallu shifted.

One soft fold dropped near hip.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t blink.

Still watching.

Still standing.

Breathing quiet.

But stiff.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I pointed.

One sharp finger.

“Tell me one thing.”

“Yes madam…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“If I say touch… you’ll touch me?”

He didn’t speak.

Just blinked.

Once.

Twice.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stepped closer.

Neck tilted.

Eyebrows raised.

Eyes focused.

“Did you hear or you became deaf now?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He nodded.

Small nod.

One time.

“Ahh. So you will touch.”

“I thought… you allowed…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I clapped.

Sharp.

Echo in kitchen.

“Ohhh so now you need permission also properly stamped ah?”

“No madam… just…”

“Shhh. Don’t explain.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You said yes. So now touch again.”

He blinked.

Once.

“Touch again.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand moved.

Again.

Same direction.

Same rhythm.

Slower.

Obedient.

Like he’d learned.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I waited.

Just watched.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


When it came near—

SMACK!

My fingers struck his again.

He jumped.

Eyes big.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ah ah ahhh…” I sang.

Like teasing.

Mocking.

“Not so easy.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Madam…”

He started.

“Every time you move hand, I’ll block.”

“Why, madam?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I don’t know.”

I smiled.

Sideways.

Crooked.

“Maybe I’m mad today.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t speak.

Then I leaned closer.

Softer voice.

Mocking again.

“You got excited no?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked away.

“No madam…”

“Lie again, I’ll slap mouth also.”

He looked down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I was just doing what you said…”

I faced him full.

No teasing now.

Body close.

Breath soft.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You like this game?”

No reply.

Again I asked.

“You enjoy when I tease and stop?”

“…Little…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I slapped his arm.

Not hard.

Just enough to sting.

“Aaah! Dirty fellow.”

“Sorry madam…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“So you’re getting full fun standing and waiting to touch me?”

“No madam… I’m getting confused.”

“Confused? Then shall I draw instruction on paper?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked up.

Voice soft.

“Please tell what you want, madam.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What I want?”

“Yes madam…”

I pointed at my hip.

One finger.

Slow.

“My waist is here.”

“Yes madam.”

“My navel is just above.”

“Yes madam.”

“You want to touch?”

He swallowed.

Nodded.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Then touch.”

His hand rose.

Slower now.

Serious.

Not excited.

Not playful.

Just… quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My heart?

It had started.

Beating fuller.

Faster.

But face?

Still calm.

Still queen.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Come on then.”

I said it soft.

Almost whisper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand came closer.

Near.

Nearer.

Right there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I moved palm.

Tried to stop.

“Enough. Wait.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But he didn’t fully stop.

Didn’t go back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand came close.

Too close.

Then—

It touched.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Palm resting.

Flat.

Soft.

Right on the hip.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No grab.

No rub.

Just… resting.

Skin on skin, through the cloth.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Warm.

Wide.

Quiet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Right under the pleats.

Right where curve becomes softness.

Right where nothing ever touched before.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And me?

I didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

Only breath caught.

Paused.

Held.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Because inside me…

That moment…

My pussy…

It pulsed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand was still there.

Still on my hip.

Still warm.

Still resting.

Not squeezing.

Not rubbing.

Just… there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like some prayer hand.

Like it belonged there.

Like my skin was waiting for it.

And my body?

Ayyo. My body was behaving like full idiot.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That soft palm — sitting on the curve —

Right on the side.

On that small soft slope just before ass begins.

Even though it wasn’t moving,

My thighs were.

Slight pressure.

Just one small clench.

But I felt it.

Fully.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I took breath.

Slow.

One deep one.

Chest lifted softly.

And then —

I slapped.

Not hard.

Just firm.

Right on his hand.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It moved.

Easily.

Flew away like paper.

Earlier it was like rock.

Now?

Now it was like his hand was remote-controlled by my palm.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I folded my arms.

Raised one eyebrow.

Gave full headmistress tone.

“Hmmmm… becoming bold now, ah?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He looked.

Not scared.

Not brave.

Just silent.

Like he was… watching instructions.

Reading face.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Before you were shivering if I raised voice.”

“Now what? Touching my hip also?”

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t nod.

Didn’t flinch.

Just stood.

“Hero ah?” I snapped.

“No madam…”

“Then why hand came like parcel?”

“I didn’t mean—”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Didn’t mean?”

I stepped forward.

One inch only.

But now —

Now his breath was touching my collarbone.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Warm.

Male.

That mix — sweat, cotton cloth, and something… his own skin.

It hit my nose like slow spice.

Made something flutter deep under my ribs.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I raised my eyebrows higher.

“You touched my hip. Even when I’m stopping you.”

He opened his mouth—

PAKK!


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Tight slap.

Right cheek again.

Louder than before.

One loud click in the room.

His head turned slightly.

Just a little.

But body?

Didn’t move.

Didn’t step back.

Didn’t shake.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like that slap…

Wasn’t even punishment.

Like it was some love-tap.

One blessing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He stood there.

Eyes looking down.

Cock still bulging.

Still pressing against pant cloth.

Still thick.

Still waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I clicked tongue.

Soft.

But scolding.

“What kind of fellow are you?”

He didn’t reply.

Just stood.

Like he wanted me to decide who he was.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You get scolding, you say ‘yes madam.’”

“You get slap, you say nothing.”

“What next?”

“I put chappal on your head, you’ll say thank you?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He dipped his head.

Soft.

Slow.

“I’m sorry, madam…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I smirked.

Not smile.

That naughty one.

“You’re enjoying this no?”

“No madam…”

“You are.”

“I can see in your pant.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“That thing is standing like cucumber in Sunday market.”

He blinked.

Eyes slightly shy.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t say sorry. Say truth.”

“You’re waiting for next touch only.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No madam… I…”

“Then show me guts.”

He looked up.

Hesitated.

Breath slow.

Eyes watching me.

Like trying to check if this is real.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I raised my chin.

“Touch again.”

He swallowed.

Then slowly…

He lifted his hand.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But this time…

It wasn’t going to side.

Not to hip.

Not to curve.

It was coming to centre.

Straight.

Dead centre.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Toward my belly.

I blinked.

Brows lifted.

“Hello?”

“Where is your magnet pointing now?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t speak.

Didn’t explain.

Didn’t stop.

His hand…

It was hovering.

Just above the saree pleats.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not touching.

Just nearing.

I moved slightly.

Shifted weight.

Tried to push his wrist.

One soft shove.

“Oi… I said hip, not stomach…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But this time—

His hand didn’t obey.

Didn’t stop.

Didn’t pull back.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It came closer.

Closer.

His fingers touched pleats.

And then—

Moved them.

One small tug.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Just from one side.

My pallu was still on shoulder.

But bottom folds?

Shifted.

Spread slightly.

Opened.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My navel—

It was visible.

Bare.

That tiny middle dip.

That small round skin hollow.

Now fully open.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped.

Small.

Not loud.

But chest moved.

Breath paused.

He was watching.

Not blinking.

Not speaking.

Just… watching.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

He touched.

Right there.

Right on it.

His fingertips rested gently in my navel.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not hard.

Not pressing.

Just… sat there.

As if my body was bowl.

And he was placing coin inside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I froze.

One second.

Everything stopped.

My knees.

My neck.

Even breath.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Because from that touch…

That tiny spot…

Something spread.

Soft.

Warm.

Round.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like wave.

Like ripple.

Right down.

Through lower belly.

Into thighs.

Through panty.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But it didn’t stop.

His thumb moved.

Rubbed.

Slow.

Small circle.

Then—

He squeezed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not harsh.

Not playful.

Firm.

Direct.

All five fingers.

Right around my navel rim.

Like holding tiny cup.

Like claiming.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my mouth—

Without warning—

It broke.

One heavy moan.

Loud.

Wet.

From deep inside stomach.

“Auhhhh—hh…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bit my lip.

Too late.
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