06-08-2025, 12:52 PM
Mind blowing update bro....the narration is so sexy and wonderful keeping full attention
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Adultery The Language of Her Heart
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07-08-2025, 10:50 PM
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.
08-08-2025, 03:28 AM
The conversation is awesome ... more needed...
Continue bro
08-08-2025, 10:49 AM
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. 
08-08-2025, 03:03 PM
Very nice awesome update..... Slow burn yet a little fast.... Exactly like the way I had thought... Pavi is struggling with herself..... She likes to dominate and being touched which gets her wet..... Every detail in the story whether Pavi cooking or wearing clothes or Prakash making tea.... Even the shifting of cylinder..... Can't wait for another rocking update.....
Please update soon
Val
08-08-2025, 10:17 PM
EPISODE 129 & EPISODE 130
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His fingers were still there. Still inside. Still inside my navel. Still rubbing. Still teasing. That same slow circle. That same deep press. That same heat. Still spreading. Still whispering through my body. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And my moan? Ayyyo… that sound… That stupid shameless sound… Still floating. Still hanging in the air between us. Like some naughty fly. Hovering. Refusing to disappear. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I bit my lip. Pressed tight. Just to stop more sound. Closed eyes once. Only one second. Then opened again. Looked at him. Looked at his hand. Looked at that damn finger. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Enough,” I said. My voice was not normal. Not soft. Not angry. Just rough. Like gravel. “Remove hand.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t. He didn’t even blink. His fingers stayed. Still in that small soft dip. Still circling. Still rubbing. Still pressing. Still claiming. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I twitched. My stomach flinched. My thighs pulled together again. More tightly. More desperate. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Oi… remove it.” Still no reply. No sorry. No stop. Just that same slow movement. As if my body was not mine. As if my stomach was his toy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I gritted teeth. Raised my hand. Grabbed his wrist. Fingers wrapping around his bone. Pulled. Once. Twice. No use. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He wasn’t holding tight. But he wasn’t letting go. It was like his fingers had melted into my skin. Like they belonged there. And my belly? That shameless traitor? It was trembling again. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Why it’s not moving?” I hissed. “Are you stuck?” He looked at me. Quiet. Still. One eyebrow lifted slightly. Just one. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think you’re very smart now, ah?” I asked. “Keeping your hand in my stomach like it’s some chocolate box?” Still no answer. Only that calm stare. Only that warm hand. Still teasing. Still rubbing. Still playing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I pulled again. No use. His grip was not fighting me. But it wasn’t leaving me. That palm… It was enjoying. Fully. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Fingers gliding softly around the rim. Pressing near the nerve spots. Right near the edge. So close to my panty line. So close to madness. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think it’s dough?” I snapped. “Kneading dough?” Still silent. Not a single word. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared harder. Face burning now. Ears heating. My own body heating more than gas stove. “You’re pressing like it belongs to you.” I couldn’t stop those words. They came like truth. Ugly. Naked. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then I snapped. Like real. Snapped like belt. Raised my other hand. Left one. Slap hand. Finger stiff. Ready. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Now I’ll fix you.” I swung. Hard. Sharp. Fast. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But suddenly— He moved. He caught it. Mid-air. Like it was nothing. Like I was throwing a flower. Not a slap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His other hand — his left — Reached up. Caught my wrist. Stopped it. Held it. Right there. Frozen. My whole body froze with it. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Shock. Real shock. He didn’t look scared. Not even surprised. Just quiet. Just still. Just calm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His right hand — still inside my navel. Still teasing. Now with thumb going slow circle. More sensual. More steady. More dangerous. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And his left hand — Holding my right wrist. Not tight. Not hurting. Just stopping. Like saying, “enough.” Like saying, “I won’t let you leave now.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And me? I was stiff. Still. Frozen. I had no words. No movement. Just eyes. Just shock. Just heat. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t say anything. Didn’t explain. Didn’t remove hand. Just held. Held both parts of me. My belly. My wrist. My body. My control. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared at him. He stared back. Both breathing. Both silent. But I was the one shaking. Soft. From inside. My spine. My chest. My core. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Eh… Prakash…” I whispered. It just came out. Like whisper in dream. Like fear mixed with ache. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe louder. Only kept doing. Kept touching. Kept holding. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And I— I was trembling. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Hey…” I said sharply. “Leave my hand.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - No reaction. No movement. No reply. Only breath. Soft. Steady. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His left hand was still holding my wrist. Not tight. Not violent. But firm. Like lock made of skin. Like gentle rope. Wrapped around me. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His right hand? That one was still inside my navel. Still rubbing. Still exploring. Still playing. Like a slow chef checking rice. Like he wanted to learn every line of my belly. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash,” I said again. Voice sharper now. Louder. “Leave.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But his fingers didn’t stop. That same slow circle. That same teasing stroke. That same thumb pressing edge. My stomach fluttered. Like butterfly wings caught in breeze. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I said leave!” This time I snapped. My throat dry. Breath hot. But he blinked. Just once. Came back to senses. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He let go of my wrist. Quickly. Softly. As if realising something. But that other hand… Still didn’t move. Still resting inside my navel like it belonged there. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I narrowed my eyes. Face hot. Not just from anger. From that sticky heat deep under my saree. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then I lifted my hand. Slap ready. PAK! Right on his cheek. Tight. Sharp. Straight across. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His face turned slightly. But no flinch. No gasp. No step back. Only his fingers moved — just a little. Still resting gently inside that soft, hot navel dip. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Enough,” I growled. Teeth clenched. Eyes narrow. “Take your hand back.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still no reply. Only quiet. Only air moving between us. Only his skin pressing mine. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Don’t act deaf.” Still nothing. His hand didn’t move. Like it had decided. Like it had forgotten what I was saying. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash!” I said again, louder. “I’m not asking. I’m ordering.” He looked at me. Just once. That calm stare. No guilt. No fear. Just… steady. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But that hand… Still there. Still quiet. Still warm. Still curved against my stomach like it knew the shape already. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I had enough. Grabbed his wrist. Twisted once. Pulled it out. Fast. My skin shivered from the absence. My stomach felt empty suddenly. Cold. Sticky. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Even my breath had changed. Heated. Unsteady. Confused. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He stepped back slightly. Just one foot. Hands falling to sides. Still close. But not touching now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I adjusted my saree edge. Tugged it tight. Smoothed the pleats over my navel. Cleared throat once. Then stood straight. Lifted my chin. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Ahhh…” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you’re showing guts, ah?” Still he didn’t speak. Just stood. Just watched. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But his eyes… They answered. That one small flash. Not dirty. Not scared. Just bold. Just sure. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I slapped you twice, scolded you ten times, still you came and touched me.” He didn’t argue. Didn’t excuse. Didn’t bow head. Just… stood there. Still. Still strong. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “And now what? You think you’ve become tiger?” I waited. Still nothing. But his silence was heavier now. Not weak. Just full. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - So I smirked. Mocking. “You think you’re strong?” Still no answer. Only breath. Only that steady male scent in the air. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “But max your guts can do…” I leaned forward. Just enough for him to feel my breath. “…is touching. That’s all.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His eyes followed mine. Calm. Focused. Not scared. Not shy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You can’t do anything more. You don’t have the balls.” Still he stood. And that bulge? Still there. Still full. Still throbbing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I scoffed. “Stiff thing under pant doesn’t mean power.” He blinked. Once. Slow. But didn’t reply. Didn’t back off. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I raised my hand again. Same hand. Same slap. “Let me remind you who’s boss.” I swung— Fast. Confident. Sharp. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But he caught it. Again. Mid-air. This time — smoother. Like dance. Like reflex. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His palm closed around my wrist. Firm. Certain. Then my other hand came — left. Ready to slap. Quick. He caught that too. Fast. Blocked. Now both my wrists — locked. One in each of his hands. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I tried to jerk free. “Eh! What are you doing?” But no answer. No movement. Only stare. Only breath. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then— He joined my wrists together. Pressed them close. Wrapped one single hand — his right — around both. Strong. Big. Tight. Like rope made of bone. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I struggled slightly. “Tchhh! I said—” But he didn’t wait. He moved. His left hand — free now — Came up. Fast. Firm. Pressed my shoulder. Pushed. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I gasped. My feet moved back. One step. Two. Then— THUD. My back hit the kitchen counter. Right at the edge. Lower back pressing against the wood. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Both my hands still locked. Tied in his fist. Chest rising. Breath catching. Eyes wide. Navel still tingling from earlier. Body stuck. Fully. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And he— He just stood there. One step close. One inch from me. No shaking. No talking. Still calm. Still close. Still silent. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I was still pinned. Back pressed against the kitchen counter edge. My spine touched the wood. Cool. Hard. A little too straight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And my hands? Still locked. Fingers folded, wrists joined, trapped tight in his one thick grip. His palm was warm. Broad. And my wrist bones? They felt small. Like thin bangles inside his fist. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But my breath? Ayyo… my breath was misbehaving. Full tight chest. Each inhale heavy. Deep. Not scared breath. Not angry breath. But something else. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because something was happening. Not outside. Not on the skin. But inside. Inside belly. Inside chest. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like something wild was waking up. Not like monster. More like animal. Not angry. But… hungry. Warm. Curling in my stomach. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And somehow… Ayyo, somehow it felt right. Like this was where I was supposed to be. Like his hand was not capturing. It was holding. It was grounding. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared at him. Right in the eyes. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And him? He stared right back. Full stillness. But that look… It wasn’t teasing. Not now. It wasn’t shy. Not scared. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Just bold. Fully bold. Not proud. Not arrogant. Just sure. Like he had waited long enough. And now he was answering. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Answering what? All those scoldings. All those games. All those slaps. All those half-invites, half-threats. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then— His hand moved. Not the one holding my wrists. That one stayed. Still wrapped. Still tight. Still firm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was the other hand. His left. It slid down. From my waist. To my lower back. Slow. Heavy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then lower. Under the saree pleats. That warm hand slipped right above my backside curve. Ayyo. That line. That border between modesty and madness. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Eh—what are you doing—!” I gasped. But even my own voice? It was late. Too late. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because with one motion— He lifted. His hand pressed. Bent his knees. Then straightened. And I? I went up. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like pillow. Like cloth bundle. Like one sack of rice. But not rough. Not careless. It was full control. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I jerked. Slight jerk. Feet kicked once in air. “Aahhh!” I shouted. “Are you mad!” But he didn’t answer. Didn’t smile. Didn’t explain. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He just turned. Just shifted. One step. Then he placed me down. On the kitchen counter. Sat me. Flat. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - My backside hit the surface. Cold! Back of my thighs touched steel. My knees bent softly. Legs parted just enough to fold. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Saree fell loose at the sides. Pleats dropped. One end touched the drawer handle. Hair bounced. Pallu slipped. My shoulder was half-bare now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And I? I just sat. Stunned. Like one child who got caught stealing mango from temple tree. “What you think of yourself!” I shouted. “Lifting me like box!” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still no answer. Not even blink. And then— He let go. Of my hands. Freed them. Both wrists. Free. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But I didn’t slap. Didn’t escape. Didn’t push him. I just sat. Breathing. Heart hammering like carpenter on Diwali night. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And then— He touched my pallu. One finger. Then two. At my hip. Soft. Slow. Almost polite. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He started pulling. Just the edge. Not jerking. Not forcing. Just sliding. Uncovering. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The fabric moved. Like silk obeying his fingers. My navel — already open from earlier — looked more bare now. More visible. More… helpless. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Hey…” I whispered. Voice soft. Weak. He didn’t even glance up. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His face was coming closer. Down. Down. Bending toward my stomach. My breath paused. My spine arched. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash… don’t you dare…” I warned. But my voice? It didn’t sound powerful. It sounded… pleading. Begging. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t reply. Didn’t blink. Just came closer. Nearer. Then— His lips touched. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Right on my navel. One kiss. Hot. Wet. Direct. Right on that centre dip. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Aaaahhh…” It came out. Loud. No control. Not breath. Not whisper. Full moan. From deep stomach. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “God…” I whispered. “Why are you doing this to me…” But he didn’t lift. Didn’t answer. Didn’t stop. His lips stayed there. Pressed. Warm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Two full seconds. Then he pulled back. Slow. Like prayer ending. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And my brain? It screamed. “I came to control myself.” “I prayed.” “No men.” “No cock.” “No temptation.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Now look. Sitting on kitchen counter. Like one vegetable for inspection. And this watchman? Kissing my stomach like it’s puja bell. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I cursed inside. “God… reverse therapy ah?” “I asked for strength. You’re sending pleasure?” What punishment is this? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But he didn’t care. Still focused. Fully. He bent again. Same spot. Another kiss. Second one. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This time? More pressure. More heat. Like the first one was test. This was devotion. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “AAHHHH…” I cried out. Head tilted back. Eyes half-closed. My hands? Not pushing. Just gripping counter edge. Tight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash!” I snapped. Scolding voice. “What is this nonsense?” He didn’t answer. Didn’t smile. Didn’t stop. And I? I didn’t move. Didn’t stop him. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because it was too much. Too good. Too shameful. Too perfect. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And his mustache… Ayyo that mustache. It was scratching softly. Tiny pricks. Right on the navel rim. That sensitive rim. That stupid sensitive rim. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Why you’re using mustache like some broom?” I breathed. Still no reply. Just his warm breath on my stomach. Still playing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And now— He leaned again. Lips coming. Mustache tickling already. Closer. Closer. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His third kiss… Just about to land. And me? I was tensed. I was throbbing. I was waiting. Like full body was one nerve. One drum. Beating. Beating. Waiting. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I walked straight to him. No hesitation. No fear. One sharp step. Then another. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And SMACK! Both hands. Flat palms. Right on his chest. Pressed in. Firm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “What do you think you are?” I shouted. No breath. No softness. Just full volume. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He took it. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Only stared. Straight. Face blank. But eyes? They were soft. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then he opened mouth. Voice quiet. “…Madam…” One word. Like whisper. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “What?” I snapped. Voice sharp. Hands still on his chest. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You said… to show guts…” He said. I frowned. “So?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I thought… maybe you’ll like…” That soft voice again. No arrogance. Just honesty. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Ohhh! So now you’re doing psychology?” I asked. Mocking. Teeth showing. Eyes wide. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam… I just…” He stopped. Didn’t finish. Didn’t argue. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “If I say bark, will you bark?” I snapped. Eyebrows lifted. Face full angry queen. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He paused. Swallowed. Then softly— “Maybe, madam…” One whisper. Not joke. Not smile. Just true. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I slapped him. One small one. Not harsh. But enough to sting. Right on the cheek. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Idiot,” I said. Face still close. “If I say anything, you’ll do it ah?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He nodded. Simple nod. “Yes madam.” One sentence. One truth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Dog.” I said. One word. He didn’t speak. Didn’t deny. Didn’t blink. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But his eyes? They said everything. And my pussy? Ayyo. It twitched. Sharp. Strong. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like it liked that word. Like it wanted to hear it again. Like it understood this man. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I took breath. One full one. Chest lifted. Saree pleats shifted again. Navel moved slightly. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then I stepped forward. Real close. Closer than before. Tip of my nose just near his cheek. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Lips beside his mouth. Not touching. But almost. Breath mixing. Heat hanging. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Tell me one thing…” I whispered. He turned. Slow. Eyes watching me. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Face still blank. No smile. No fear. Only attention. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “What will you do,” I said, “if I don’t say anything?” His eyebrows moved. Tiny movement. I tilted head. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Nothing. No rules. No words. No orders.” I said. Slow. Each word dripping. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You can do anything you want…” I whispered. Warm air touching his lips now. “So… what will you do?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He swallowed. Soft. Didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe louder. Just stood. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I watched him. For two seconds. Then I started laughing. Loud. Sharp. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’re scared, right?” I said. Still laughing. That mock in my voice. “Poor fellow.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Whole boldness vanished.” Then— THWACK! One tight slap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Down. Right on the cock. Flat palm. Over the uniform pant. Sharp sound. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He jolted. Body jumped slightly. Eyes went wide. But no sound. No word. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Know your limits,” I snapped. Tone hard. Chin lifted. “Don’t overact.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Silence. Thick. Still. Then softly— “…Madam…” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Haan?” I replied. Quick. Sharp. But curious. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked down. Then up again. Eyes steady. Mouth calm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Can I do anything?” He asked. Plain question. No game. No trick. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared. Mouth open. Slightly. Then scoffed. Sharp breath out. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Ohhh… now you’re asking questions?” I said. One eyebrow lifted. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stepped forward. One inch. Maybe two. Now our chests were almost touching. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I raised my chin. Eyeline sharp. “You got that much guts now, ah?”
08-08-2025, 10:21 PM
Wish the wimp husband die soon, so that this bitch can lead a happy life with prakash without any guilt.
09-08-2025, 03:51 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-08-2025, 04:35 PM by val.coutinho. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
What an update madam, slow but very hot.... She's going to finally give in.... The lingering in their talks, bodily touch.... Taunting.... All the actions between them.... Now it's time for the first kiss between them.... Looking at the temperature rise in the house between Prakash and Pavi.... I think it's time for them to share their first kiss..... With the permission of Pavi.....
Eagerly awaiting for the next update.
Val
09-08-2025, 08:36 AM
The story is going like a slow poison
09-08-2025, 10:51 AM
Omg i think things are heating up btw Prakash and Pavitra, waiting for unfold ;)
09-08-2025, 05:14 PM
Idle mind is devil's paradise. When women don't have any work, this is what they do?
09-08-2025, 05:24 PM
Looks like hero of the story is Prakash as he started as submissive man and slowly changing to dominant. Soon he will fuck her in every room of her house.
09-08-2025, 10:25 PM
Author’s Note & Disclaimer
Thank you for reading Language of Her Heart. This is a work of fiction, told entirely from Pavitra’s point of view, exploring her emotions, relationships, and desires. Some upcoming chapters will include consensual force-play, BDSM, and other power-exchange kinks. These are purely fictional and portrayed within the fantasy context of the story. Pavitra’s journey involves exploring and enjoying sexual experiences she has not received from her husband — carefully, without getting caught or noticed. This does not mean she will join with every man she meets. Her choices are part of her personal exploration, not an open invitation to anyone in the story. If you do not enjoy these themes, please stop reading rather than criticizing the main characters or their relationship. You are welcome to keep your own fantasies and interpretations to yourself, or create your own stories if you have different ideas. Persistent personal attacks towards main character will only discourage me from continuing this series. — Yazhiniram
09-08-2025, 11:15 PM
(09-08-2025, 10:25 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: Author’s Note & Disclaimer
09-08-2025, 11:54 PM
(09-08-2025, 10:25 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: Author’s Note & Disclaimer Dear Madam/Author I have no doubts on your writing skills and so far I'm loving the updates that you have given. With negative comments there are positive comments too.... Don't demotivate yourself.... Please continue the story and keep writing the way you have, there's actually no need to stop the story and I'm also sorry if I have unknowingly written/commented on anything that has hurt your feelings or about the story. Please forgive the mistakes and continue
Val
10-08-2025, 12:57 AM
(09-08-2025, 10:25 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: Author’s Note & Disclaimer People will comment whatever they feel like, both positive and negative... As an author you have every right to post your story they way you have perceived it and written it. Don't care about readers who don't understand it and unnecessarily post useless comments. Just go with what you have in mind. Always remember that you cannot please everyone, there will always be many sorry faces on the way...especially of people who don't understand your story the right way. So Ignore and carry on with what you have in mind and have written already... We all support you and will always stand by you
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