Romance College Confessions: with Priya and others

[rajesh93]

Great start and relatable to pretty much everyone

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[rajesh93]

Very good

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[rajesh93]

Good start, please continue

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[rajesh93]

Nice story line and good pictures.

Waiting for your updates

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[rajesh93]

Provide some update bro

Sure bro, I will give you the updates soon.

[rajesh93]

Scene 5 – Opportunities to Spend Time Together

 


I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t plan it. But somehow, life had a funny way of pushing me closer to Priya, even when I wasn’t ready.
 
It all started with my father. As much as I hated to admit it, I was struggling with a lot of my subjects, coding in particular. It wasn’t that I wasn’t trying. I was. I spent hours reading, scribbling notes, and running through problems. But no matter how hard I tried, it just never clicked like it did for Priya.
 
One evening, after a particularly frustrating study session, my dad, sitting across from me at the dinner table, gave me that look, the one that meant he was about to say something that would leave me no choice but to listen.
 
“Rahul,” he started, his voice calm but firm, “why don’t you ask Priya for help? She’s good with these things. Maybe she can explain it in a way you’ll understand.”
 
My heart sank. Ask Priya for help? Sure, we were friends, but this felt different. Asking for help meant admitting I was out of my depth. It felt like exposing my vulnerability to her, the last person I’d want to show any weakness to. She was smart, confident, effortlessly brilliant. How could I ask her for help?
 
But my father’s tone made it clear that arguing wasn’t an option. “Just do it,” he said. And that was that.
 
The next day, after much hesitation, I found myself walking toward Priya after class. She was standing with some friends, laughing, her face glowing with that effortless charm she always carried. She was in red dress as that was a Friday, no uniform.  I stood there for a moment, unsure of how to approach her without sounding ridiculous. I couldn’t let her see how nervous I was.




 
I took a deep breath and walked up to her, my voice coming out less confident than I intended.
 

I called “Hey, Priya…”  She looked towards me. That is it, I lost everything I rehashed to talk to her after seeing her face.  
 






“What?”  She asked me, bringing me back to the earth.



 
“Uh, you know, about the assignment… My dad suggested I ask you for help. If you don’t mind, of course.”
 
She turned toward me, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. For a second, I was lost. Priya was like this living, breathing example of grace. She was wearing a simple light blue top with jeans, but somehow, the way she wore it made everything look effortlessly chic. The way her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, the delicate curve of her neck, the subtle flush of her cheeks, it was like she had this aura about her, drawing everyone’s attention without even trying.
 
“Of course! No problem, Rahul,” she said, her voice soft, the edges of her lips curving into that friendly smile that seemed to melt any of my hesitation. “I’m happy to help.”

 
I smiled awkwardly, trying to hide how much my heart was racing. She was so naturally beautiful, so easy in her own skin, it made me feel like I was the one who needed to prove something. As she led me to a quiet spot, I couldn’t help but notice how her every movement seemed calculated, graceful. Even the way her eyes flickered as she spoke, it was all so deliberate and yet effortless. I was watching her with the kind of intensity I didn’t even realize was happening.





 
She sat down beside me and started explaining the problem, patiently walking me through each step. I tried to focus on what she was saying, but if I’m being honest, I wasn’t really listening. I was watching her lips, how they parted slightly when she explained something, the way her teeth peeked out as she smiled.





Each time she spoke, it felt like the world around me slowed down, and all I could hear was her voice, calm and steady, like a melody I never wanted to stop hearing.
 










It was frustrating. I wanted to focus, to actually understand what she was saying, but my thoughts kept drifting. The way her fingers moved as she pointed to the equations, the way her eyes met mine with such quiet confidence, everything about her made my chest tighten.




 
I caught myself staring more than I should have, especially when she asked, “Got it so far?”
 


I quickly snapped out of it, clearing my throat. “Uh, yeah, yeah, I think I got it now.”
 
She smiled, her eyes lighting up with a quiet pride. “Good, you’re getting it! It’s not that hard once you break it down.”
 



But all I could think about was how she made everything seem so simple. And how, every time she spoke, I found myself completely mesmerized by the way her lips moved. It felt like everything else was fading into the background, and all I wanted to do was listen, to hear more of her voice.
 
“Thanks, Priya,” I said, the words slipping out before I could even stop them. “I really appreciate it.”
 
She smiled again, that smile that always made my stomach flip. “No problem, Rahul. It’s fun to help out. You’re going to do fine.”
 


And just like that, I was back in reality, her presence still lingering in the air, the warmth of her smile and the rhythm of her voice still echoing in my ears. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had no idea how much her presence affected me. She probably thought of me as just another friend. But I couldn’t stop the feelings that were building inside me, even if I tried to ignore them.
 
As we finished up, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the time she had given me. She had helped me with the assignment, yes, but it felt like something else too, like I had just gotten a glimpse of the world she lived in, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. But one thing was for sure: I was never going to forget the way she made me feel, and how, in that moment, I had become more aware of every little detail about her.


I could never forget the way she looked at me while leaving in the bus while I was on my bike

[rajesh93]

Scene 6 – The Invitation

 

I had been struggling with the assignment for days. Each time I thought I was getting somewhere, the problem slipped through my fingers like sand. I had followed Priya’s suggestions and gone through the steps she had patiently outlined, but it still wasn’t clicking. It felt like I was standing on the edge of understanding, but never quite reaching it.
 
The frustration built with every equation that mocked me. No matter how many times I tried, it seemed I was getting nowhere. Priya’s explanations were kind, but they felt distant, as if something essential was slipping past me, something I couldn’t quite see.
 
I needed more. Not just a passing comment in class or a rushed explanation between periods. I needed her undivided attention.
 
So, after a moment of hesitation, I typed the message, my fingers hovering over the screen, hesitant and vulnerable.
 
"Hey Priya, I’m still stuck. I think I’m missing something, but I just don’t get it. Do you think you could explain it to me again?"
 
I stared at the screen for what felt like forever before hitting "send," my heart hammering in my chest.
 
It wasn’t like I expected her to drop everything. Priya had always been patient, always willing to help when I was struggling. But this… it felt different. Asking for help was one thing, but asking her to really help me made everything feel strange, like I was crossing an invisible line between just friends and… well, something else.
 
Her response came almost immediately.
 
"No problem! Come over to my house in the evening. We can go over it then. I’m sure we can work through it."
 
I blinked, re-reading the message twice. Three times. I wasn’t sure I’d read it right.
 
Priya’s house.
 
I had known her for years. Our families were close, always at the same functions, exchanging pleasantries, attending dinners together. But I rarely went to her house. Whenever I did, it was always in a group setting, my parents were there, or we were at some family function. We’d never hung out just the two of us. Her house felt like a space I could never quite access on my own.
 
But now, she was inviting me. To her house.
 
That simple fact made everything feel different. I felt like a door had opened in front of me, one I hadn’t even known was there, and I was standing on the threshold. The idea of stepping into her world, seeing where she was herself, sent a flutter through my chest. I had glimpsed her world before, but only through the lens of family gatherings. I’d never been there alone, never seen her in her own space, away from the structure of family functions.
 
Her house.
 
Her words echoed in my mind. It was so casual, so simple, yet everything about it felt monumental. Priya wasn’t just offering to help me; she was inviting me into her personal world. This wasn’t like those occasional dinners with our families, this was something entirely different. Intimate. Personal.
 
I stared at the screen, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. Did this mean something? Was it just about the assignment? Or was this the first step into something more?
 
A wave of excitement surged through me, quickly followed by a knot of anxiety. What if it was awkward? What if I said something stupid? What if she thought I was only asking for help as an excuse to be near her? This could get complicated, fast.
 
But no. I couldn’t back out now.
 
I shook my head, pushing the doubts aside. This was just a study session. Nothing more. I had to remind myself of that, even if my heart wasn’t listening.
 
I glanced at the message one last time. She wanted me there. That fact alone settled my nerves just a little.
 
"Thanks, Priya. I’ll be there. See you tonight."
 
I hit "send," the weight of the words settling on my chest. It was done. I had agreed to go.
 
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Every moment seemed threaded with the anticipation of what would come later. Each time my phone buzzed, I half-expected it to be her, maybe with a reminder or a casual update. But no, it was always something else.
 
The hours crawled by, and my mind kept replaying the image of Priya standing there, typing that message, her fingers moving so effortlessly. I wondered if she knew how much her simple invitation affected me, how much it meant for me to be asked into her personal space.
 
Even the thought of walking to her house felt surreal. Priya’s house. Her world. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a moment that would change everything, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it.
 
But no. I couldn’t back out now.
 
This was just a study session, I told myself. It was no big deal.
 
Yet, as the evening drew closer, I couldn’t help but feel that this moment, this invitation, was bigger than I had originally realized. Priya had made the first move, opening the door to something new between us. And for better or worse, I was stepping through it.
 
As I stood in front of the mirror, straightening my clothes, adjusting my hair, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just about homework anymore. It was about something else. Something that felt both thrilling and terrifying.
 
In the end, I decided that the only thing I could focus on was getting there. The rest would figure itself out.
 
As I grabbed my things and left for her house, I realized something important: I wasn’t just anxious anymore. I was excited. For the first time in a long time, I was genuinely looking forward to what was to come.
 
That feeling of anticipation mixed with excitement was enough to carry me all the way to her front door.
 

[rajesh93]

Scene 7 – A Visit to Priya’s House
 
That evening, I stood outside Priya’s house, my heartbeat quickening in a way I couldn’t explain. I had been here before, yes—but always for gatherings, laughter, noise. Tonight, it was just me. And her.
 
I rang the bell, my hand trembling slightly. The door opened.
 
And there stood Sushma.
 
The black saree clung to her like it had been made only for her. Its thin golden border traced her curves, emphasizing the full shape of her chest before falling gracefully down her side. The fabric caught the light, hinting at the firm swell beneath, making it impossible not to notice the soft rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. For a moment, my throat tightened.
 




“Rahul! You’re here,” she said, her smile warm, her voice carrying that low, soothing lilt I’d heard so many times—but tonight it struck me differently. “Priya’s upstairs. She’ll be down in a moment.”
 
Her eyes lingered on me, calm, knowing.
 
“Come in, beta,” she said, stepping aside. The movement made the pleats of her saree sway gently against her hips, and as I brushed past, the faint scent of her jasmine perfume slipped into me like a secret.
 
The living room glowed in soft yellow light. Family photos, flowers, the smell of cookies in the air—it should have felt familiar, comforting. Yet tonight, there was something charged about it. Maybe because I was alone here. With her.




 
“Juice or tea?” she asked, tilting her head, one earring brushing against her cheek.
 
“Juice, Aunty. Thank you,” I managed, though my voice betrayed my nerves.
 


She gave me a smile, turned, and walked toward the kitchen. My gaze followed without permission. The black saree revealed the delicate curve of her back, bare and smooth except for the slender strap of her blouse. The sight was maddening, the gentle arch of her spine, the way her waist narrowed before swelling into her hips. A forbidden thought stirred in me: how it would feel to trace that line with my hand.




 
I sat on the couch, restless. My heart was beating too fast, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances at the doorway until she returned.
 
When she came back, she carried the juice with such grace that even the small gesture looked deliberate, almost sensual. As she leaned forward to place it on the table, the blouse strained slightly against her chest, offering me an unintended glimpse of the fullness I was already trying not to stare at. My hand brushed hers as I reached for the glass. Her skin was smooth, warm. A current shot through me.
 
“Here you go, Rahul,” she said softly. “Priya will be down soon.”
 
I swallowed. “Thanks, Aunty.”
 
She lowered herself into the armchair opposite me, crossing her legs with quiet poise. The saree folded neatly around her thighs, the motion emphasizing the smooth shape of her calf. She leaned back, her chest rising gently beneath the black silk, and her eyes settled on me in a way that made it hard to breathe.


“So,” she said, her tone calm, almost intimate, “how is college treating you? Priya tells me you’re one of the brightest in your class.”
 
I gave a nervous laugh, rubbing my palms against my knees. “It’s… busy, Aunty. Projects, deadlines, stress. You know how it is.”
 
She tilted her head, her lips curving. “Hmm. I remember those years. Long nights, heavy books. But you seem to handle it well.”
 
“I try,” I murmured.
 
Her gaze didn’t waver. “I can see that,” she said, her voice dropping just slightly lower. There was something in the way she said it, something that reached past the polite words and touched a place I didn’t dare acknowledge.

 



The silence stretched, filled with the quiet hum of the ceiling fan and the sound of my own heartbeat. She adjusted her saree lightly, tugging the pallu closer around her chest, though the movement only made me more aware of the soft heaviness beneath it.
 
I looked down quickly, embarrassed at myself. But her voice pulled me back.
 
“Relax, Rahul,” she said gently. “You look so tense.”
 
Her words, though innocent, felt like an invitation. My mouth was dry, and yet I forced a smile. “Just… not used to being here without everyone else, Aunty.”
 
Her eyes softened, and she leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the armrest. “Don’t worry. You’re not a guest here. You’re family.”
 
The word should have comforted me. Instead, it tangled with the heat simmering beneath my skin, making it harder to fight the dangerous pull of her presence.
 
And in that moment, sitting across from her, I realized: I couldn’t stop myself from noticing her. The swell of her breasts beneath the black silk, the graceful arch of her back, the warmth in her eyes that seemed to reach places I shouldn’t let it.
 
It was wrong. It was forbidden. But I was already lost in her.

[rajesh93]

 
Scene 8 – The Weight of Her Presence

 
Sushma sat back in the armchair across from me, her saree perfectly arranged, her blouse, sleeveless, cut deep at the sides, hugging her body with quiet elegance. From where I sat, taller than her, I could see more than I should. The pallu covered most of her chest, but on the right side, the silk had slipped just enough to leave a generous curve of her breast uncovered above the blouse’s edge.
 




It wasn’t indecent. It was worse, graceful, teasing, the kind of accidental exposure that made it impossible to look away. The smooth slope of her skin, the way the blouse framed her fullness, pulled my gaze again and again like a force I couldn’t resist.
 
She noticed.

Her lips curled into a faint smile, her eyes glinting as though she could read every thought flashing across my face. “Rahul,” she said softly, “why do you keep looking away whenever I catch your eyes?”
 
My throat tightened. “I… I’m not, Aunty. Just… distracted.”
 
“Hmm.” She shifted, tugging her pallu closer, but in doing so only pressed the fabric tighter against her chest. The movement made my pulse stutter. “Distracted by what, beta?”
 
I clutched the glass harder. “Nothing… just… college stress.”
 
Her laugh was low and velvety. “College stress doesn’t make a young man’s eyes wander, does it?”
 
Heat rushed through me. I dropped my gaze, only to find it caught again, the bare swell of her right breast from my angle above her. Shame and desire tangled in me, leaving me speechless.
 
Sushma leaned forward slightly, her voice dipping lower, her smile amused. “You’ve grown so tall, Rahul. Sitting there above me, looking down… does it feel strange? To see your Aunty like this?”
 


I stammered, “N-no, Aunty, I didn’t…”
 
Her laugh cut me off, warm but edged with pride. “Relax, beta. You’re nineteen. A young man noticing a woman’s beauty is natural. And if a woman my age can still make you tense…” She let the words hang, her gaze locked on mine. “…then I suppose I should be proud.”
 
Her eyes gleamed with playful cruelty, as though she was savoring every second of my discomfort, feeding on it, enjoying the power she held over me.
 




I sat frozen, my breath heavy, my gaze betraying me once more, drawn helplessly to the bare slope of her chest framed by that black blouse.
 
And then…
 
From upstairs, the sound of footsteps. Light, quick, unmistakable. Priya.
 
Her steps grew louder, descending toward us.
 
 

[Crazy007]

Great update
Waiting for the Priya