09-10-2024, 10:41 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-10-2024, 10:55 PM by Zoz34. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
As Afrah stood at the airport, suitcase in hand, her mother’s disapproving look lingered in her mind. "Girls who go on trips like this...they lose their way," her mother had warned before she left. But this was her first trip to Goa, and she was determined to enjoy it.
She spotted her colleagues Neha, Nisha, and Aman already gathered at the terminal. After greeting them, she glanced around, expecting to see Vishal. Her pulse quickened, but to her relief, Neha informed her with a smile.
Neha: “Vishal sir’s taking the next flight. Something came up.”
Afrah hid her disappointment, though a part of her had been looking forward to his intense presence. As they checked in, Nisha teased her about her first time in Goa, while Aman joked.
Aman:“Don’t get lost on the beach, Afrah!”
She laughed along, but her mind kept drifting back to the thought of Vishal, wondering what the next few days might bring. The anticipation simmered beneath the excitement of the trip.
The first day in Goa had been nothing short of exhausting. The client meeting had stretched on longer than expected, running well into the evening. Afrah barely had time to catch her breath before they were finally released from the conference room.
When she stepped into her hotel room, she was struck by its luxury. The soft lighting, plush furnishings, and the enormous bed—all details that made her feel like she’d stepped into another world. She sank into the bed, its softness enveloping her, offering comfort after a long day.
Too tired to even think, she barely registered the luxury around her. The moment her head hit the pillow, sleep overtook her.
The second day’s meeting was shorter, and to Afrah’s surprise, Vishal remained strictly professional throughout. He led the discussions with precision, his tone focused, his demeanor calm. A part of her was relieved, thankful for his professionalism. But another part—a deeper, hidden part—felt a pang of disappointment. She had expected something more, something that hinted at the tension between them.
As the meeting wrapped up, Vishal turned to the group, his expression light. “Alright, everyone. That’s it for today. Why don’t you freshen up and enjoy the hotel or head down to the beach?”
Then his eyes landed on her. He smiled—slow, deliberate, almost playful. Afrah’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she felt the heat of his gaze linger just a second too long. She knew that smile; it wasn’t just friendly. Her intuition told her there was something more behind it, something dark, seductive, and sinister.
A wave of excitement mixed with apprehension washed over her. Was she imagining it? Or was he playing a game, one that would unfold when they were away from prying eyes?
Nisha had suggested they enjoy the pool first, and everyone agreed. Back in her room, Afrah stood in her suitcase staring at clothes. Her clothes were modest, fully covered, a far cry from the two-piece bikinis she had seen some women flaunting at the pool earlier. It had caught her attention, the way those swimsuits accentuated their bodies, exuding confidence and sex appeal. She wouldn’t dare to wear something like that, though.
As she pick the dress, she found herself wondering what it would feel like—to let go of her inhibitions, to be daring for once. But no, she pushed the thought away. It wasn’t her.
Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when the doorbell rang, pulling her back to reality.
Afrah opened the door to find Vishal standing there, leaning casually in the frame. His white shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing just enough of his strong chest to make her heartbeat quicken, and he wore jeans that hung comfortably on his lean frame. His smirk was unmistakable.
"Vishal?" she asked, startled. "What are you doing here?"
Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space. "Well," he said, his voice smooth and casual, "I'm actually here for you. Get ready—we’re going somewhere." Door closed.
"Is the pool plan cancelled?" she asked, trying to hide the nerves creeping into her voice.
He gave a lazy grin. "No, let the rest of the group enjoy the pool. You and I are going somewhere else."
A thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of dread washed over her as she looked into his eyes. She knew there was something more behind that smile, something seductive and dangerous.
Vishal leaned against the wall, his smirk widening as Afrah crossed her arms, standing her ground.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep her voice steady despite the way he looked at her.
Vishal chuckled, taking a slow step closer. "Oh, come on. I thought you’d be up for a little adventure. Don’t tell me you're scared."
"Scared?" She scoffed, though her heart was racing. "Of what? You?"
He tilted his head, giving her a playful grin. "Maybe. Or maybe you're scared of how much fun you’ll have."
Afrah rolled her eyes, refusing to let him get to her. "I’m not one of those girls, Vishal. I don’t just run off whenever you snap your fingers."
"Who said anything about snapping fingers?" He winked. "I’m asking nicely."
She laughed, shaking her head. "No. The answer is still no. The pool is where I’m going. Besides, everyone will notice if I’m not there."
Vishal stepped even closer, lowering his voice, the teasing edge still in his tone. "Let them notice. What’s the harm in bending the rules a little? You might even enjoy it."
Afrah’s eyes flickered with hesitation for a moment before she brushed past him. "I'm not falling for your charm, Vishal. I know you too well. And besides," she added, her lips curling into a smirk of her own.
The bell rang, again ,she heard Neha's voice outside talking to someone.
Vishal’s smirk deepened as Afrah stood by the door, frozen with worry. The bell rang again, and her heart pounded as she whispered urgently, “Vishal, hide! It’s Neha!”
But instead of moving, he stepped closer to her, his breath warm against her ear. “Hide?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “Only if you come with me.”
"Vishal, no!" she hissed, trying to push him back, but he wasn’t budging.
He smirked, his face inches from hers. "Then I’m not hiding," he said quietly, glancing at the door as the bell rang again, Neha knocking and calling out from the other side.
Afrah’s heart raced, a mix of panic and frustration rising. "Please," she whispered, her eyes pleading. "She’ll see you. I can’t explain this."
Vishal shrugged casually. "Your call. But I'm not moving unless you agree."
Another knock echoed through the room. Afrah's eyes darted to the door. She sighed in defeat, nodding reluctantly. "Fine! I’ll come with you, just… hide."
Vishal grinned triumphantly, taking a step back but not before brushing a thumb lightly along her arm. "Good girl," he murmured, stepping into the bathroom as Afrah shot him a glare.
Taking a deep breath, Afrah opened the door. Neha stood there, already in her swimsuit and towel in hand. "Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re all heading to the pool."
Afrah forced a smile, her heart still racing. "Oh, I’m… not feeling too well. I think I’ll rest for a bit and join you guys later."
Neha frowned, looking concerned. "You sure? You seemed fine earlier."
"Yeah, just hit me suddenly. Maybe something I ate?" Afrah said, glancing nervously at the bathroom door.
"Alright… but let me know if you need anything. We’ll be down by the pool," Neha said, giving her a sympathetic smile before heading off.
As soon as the door closed, Afrah leaned back against it, exhaling in relief. Vishal emerged from the bathroom, still smirking.
"See? That wasn’t so hard," he teased.
Afrah glared at him. "I’m only doing this because you left me no choice. Don’t think I’m okay with it."
Vishal chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Now, get ready. We’re going to have some fun."
As the car ride continued, Vishal’s hand casually rested on the back of Afrah’s seat.
“Mind if I show you something?” Vishal asked, his voice smooth and teasing.
Before she could respond, he gently leaned over her to adjust the radio, his chest brushing against her arm. The subtle contact sent a jolt through her. She inhaled sharply, suddenly hyper-aware of his nearness. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, enveloped her senses.
Vishal’s hand lingered a second too long near her waist as he shifted back into his seat. His eyes met hers, holding the gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his fingers inching closer again. “I can help with that.”
Afrah’s breath hitched as his fingers traced the hem of her dress—barely touching, but enough to make her skin burn where his hand had been. She clenched her fists in her lap, fighting the urge to lean into the dangerous pull between them. He wasn’t rushing, just playing with the tension, knowing it would drive her mad.
The unspoken promise hung thick in the air. Neither said anything, but the tension was enough to set her heart racing, a slow burn building inside her as his hand hovered at the edge of temptation.
Vishal parked the car in front of a high-end boutique, its glass windows glittering with expensive dresses on display.
"Why are we here?" Afrah asked, a bit uneasy, as she looked at the dazzling store.
Vishal smirked, stepping out and opening her door. “I thought you could use a little upgrade to that dress of yours.” His eyes roamed over her, not in a lewd way, but enough to make her skin tingle. "Come on, something that shows off... more of you."
Afrah hesitated, but he was already guiding her into the store, his hand lightly pressing against her lower back. Inside, racks of luxurious, daring dresses greeted her. One by one, Vishal picked out pieces—denim shorts, plunging necklines, slits that ran scandalously high.
“Try this,” he handed her a denim shorts and a white crop top. It looked like it could barely cover her modestly, but the fabric was undeniably sensual.
As Afrah stared at the denim shorts, her thoughts flashed back to that night. The first time Vishal had taken her shopping, she had tried on a dress with a slit that revealed just enough of her thigh to make his gaze linger. She had never felt so exposed, yet so desired. The way his eyes had traveled over her body, appreciating every curve, had made her feel an intoxicating mix of power and vulnerability. She remembered the heat in his touch, the way his hand had slid over her thigh, sparking sensations she hadn’t allowed herself to explore before.
And then, that kiss—his lips claiming hers with a force she hadn’t anticipated, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.
Now, here she was again, holding the tiny shorts. They were far more daring than anything she had ever worn. The thought of wearing them, exposing so much skin, sent a chill down her spine. How would she look in them? More importantly, how would Vishal look at her?
Her pulse quickened as she imagined stepping out of the dressing room, Vishal’s gaze devouring her once again, his smirk deepening with approval. The thought sent a rush of excitement and dread through her. Could she handle that kind of attention again? Could she handle the tension between them building even more?
With a deep breath, Afrah made her decision.
Afrah shook her head, holding the denim shorts and crop top at arm’s length. “I can’t wear this, Vishal. It’s way too much—or rather, too little.” She looked up, hoping to see a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
But Vishal’s smirk only deepened as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come on, Afrah. It’s not that scandalous. You’ve got the body for it—why not show it off?”
Afrah felt a flush creep up her neck. “Because I don’t need to show off, and I’m not comfortable—”
Vishal cut her off, stepping closer. “Or maybe you’re afraid of how good you’ll look in it.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, just inches from her ear. “You’ll turn heads. Everyone will be looking at you. Including me.”
Afrah’s heart raced as he brushed a hand lightly over her arm, teasing her skin with his fingertips. “I don’t need anyone looking at me like that,” she whispered, her voice betraying her resolve.
“Don’t you?” Vishal whispered back, his breath warm against her neck. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you like it when I watch you? You enjoy the attention.”
She swallowed hard, torn between defiance and the magnetic pull of his words. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
He chuckled softly, stepping back, giving her space—but only enough to make her miss the closeness. “Afrah, trust me. You’ll look incredible in those shorts.” His eyes darkened as they traveled down to the shorts in her hands. “You should wear them... for me.”
Her breath hitched. There was something dangerously seductive in the way he said it, like a challenge she couldn’t back down from. She tried to muster some resistance, but his confidence, his persistence, were making her waver.
“Vishal, I...”
“If you don’t try them on,” he said, his voice velvety smooth, “I’m not leaving. In fact, I might just stay here and help you with them myself.”
Afrah’s pulse raced at the insinuation, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words and the intensity in his eyes. She looked at him, then back at the shorts, biting her lip in hesitation.
Finally, with a resigned sigh, she stepped toward the dressing room. "Fine. But only this once."
Vishal grinned, watching her disappear behind the room, his eyes gleaming with victory.
Afrah slowly slid the denim shorts up her legs, the fabric clinging tightly to her thighs, hugging every curve as it stretched to fit her hips. The denim pressed against her skin in a way that felt foreign, yet thrilling, emphasizing the shape of her thighs and the gentle curve of her buttocks. She adjusted them, tugging slightly to make them sit higher, and noticed how they framed her backside, lifting it, making it appear more defined, more voluptuous. Every small movement she made caused the shorts to ride up just enough to tease, exposing more of her smooth, sun-kissed skin.
[img]<a href=[/img]![[Image: 77148e4f-851f-48f2-af73-fa3d364dee73.png]](https://i.ibb.co/gjbMFwh/77148e4f-851f-48f2-af73-fa3d364dee73.png)
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Her reflection in the mirror showed a woman she barely recognized. Her thighs looked long and toned, the slight dip where they met her hips making her legs seem endless. The shorts hugged her body so tightly that the fabric outlined every contour, highlighting the swell of her buttocks and the firm roundness beneath.
As her gaze traveled upwards, she took in the small strip of bare skin between the top of the shorts and the hem of the crop top. Her waist was slender, the gentle inward curve leading the eye naturally to the soft rise of her hips. The top was fitted snugly around her chest, accentuating the fullness of her breasts, the fabric pulling tight over her curves in a way that was both revealing and tantalizing.
Her bare midriff was smooth, her skin glistening slightly under the soft lights of the changing room. The subtle lines of her abdomen were visible, leading the eye down from the swell of her breasts to the dip of her navel and the firm line of her hips. The crop top ended just below her ribcage, leaving her entire waist exposed, and the way the fabric clung to her body made her look both confident and sultry.
Turning slightly, Afrah admired how the shorts framed her backside, the way they seemed to mold to her body, making her buttocks look rounder, fuller, with each movement making the denim pull taut. Her smooth, toned legs stretched out beneath her, the contrast between the tight shorts and her bare skin drawing attention to every inch of her body. She could see the curve of her thighs, the way they met her hips in a seamless line of softness and strength, and it made her feel undeniably sexy.
Her breasts rose gently with each breath, the crop top pulling tightly against them, accentuating the soft rise and fall of her chest. She could see the outline of her figure clearly, every inch of her body perfectly showcased in the mirror, and for the first time, she felt the power of her own femininity. There was a seductive allure to the way the clothes highlighted her curves, leaving just enough to the imagination, but showing enough to make her feel daring and bold.
Afrah ran her fingers lightly along the bare skin of her waist, feeling the smoothness of her body and the way the clothes accentuated her natural shape. There was a thrill in seeing herself like this, a mix of vulnerability and confidence that sent a rush of excitement through her. The way the shorts hugged her hips and the crop top framed her breasts made her feel powerful, like she was embracing a part of herself she had long suppressed.
In that moment, staring at her reflection, Afrah couldn’t help but appreciate the way her body looked—strong, feminine, and undeniably sexy.
As Afrah stepped out of the changing room, she could feel the intensity of Vishal’s gaze settle on her. It was impossible to ignore the way his eyes traveled down her body, lingering on every curve. The tight denim shorts clung to her hips, accentuating the smooth, sensual sway of her body as she walked. The fabric hugged her buttocks, framing them perfectly, lifting just enough with every step to reveal more of her soft, supple thighs. Each movement seemed to tease him, the shorts riding up slightly as she walked, enhancing the roundness of her curves in a way that was both seductive and effortlessly natural.https://i.ibb.co/QnHp5nT/GIF-20241009-223444-502.gif[/img]" />[img=539x1250]<a href=[/img]![[Image: GIF-20241009-223444-502.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/QnHp5nT/GIF-20241009-223444-502.gif)
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Her legs, long and bare, gleamed under the boutique’s soft lighting. The smoothness of her skin was on full display, her toned thighs catching the light as she moved with a subtle grace. Every step she took made the shorts pull just a little tighter against her, showing off the shapely lines of her body, the way her thighs flowed seamlessly into the curve of her hips.
Above the waistband of the shorts, her bare waist was exposed, the gentle rise and fall of her abdomen visible between the low-slung denim and the tight crop top. Her skin was warm and flushed, contrasting against the soft fabric of the top, which hugged her chest in a way that emphasized her curves. The exposed sliver of her midriff made her feel vulnerable but also powerful, aware of how his eyes followed the smooth, inviting line of her waist.
As she walked past him, she could feel his gaze on her, the undeniable heat of his attention making her pulse quicken. The way his eyes lingered on her bare skin, on the way the shorts cupped her perfectly, sent a thrill down her spine. She could sense his desire, the hunger in his eyes, and it both unsettled and excited her.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said, trying to sound stern, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her nerves.
Vishal smirked, leaning against the wall as his gaze never left her body. “Can’t help it,” he said, his voice low, filled with a teasing edge. “You look so sexy, Afrah. That outfit... it’s dangerous.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from the intensity of his gaze, but it only pushed her breasts up, making the top cling tighter. “I feel ridiculous. This is way too much... or too little,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes.
“Too little?” Vishal stepped closer, his voice dropping into that smooth, seductive tone. “Nah, it’s just the right amount. You’re stunning. And I know you feel it too.”
Afrah’s heart pounded as she felt his presence inches away. His words sent a flush up her neck, but she forced herself to remain composed, brushing off the heat building between them. “This is just... for fun. Don’t make it a big deal.”
Vishal chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, it’s a big deal. You’re killing me right now. I could barely keep my eyes off you before, but now...” He let his words hang, the implication clear.
Afrah’s pulse quickened, but she forced a smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Vishal’s grin widened as he stepped even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you... you’re irresistible.”
She could feel his breath on her skin, the way his eyes burned with desire, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily. “You should really stop trying to flirt with me, Vishal,” she said, her voice firmer now, though her heart raced.
His smirk didn’t waver. “I will, when you stop enjoying it so much.”
Afrah’s eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and frustration. She turned on her heel, pretending to ignore him, but she couldn’t hide the slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
As Afrah turned to walk away, she felt Vishal’s gaze, hot and penetrating, tracing her figure like an intimate touch. Each step brought out the seductive sway of her hips, the tight denim shorts wrapping around her body and accentuating the gentle curve of her waist. The fabric hugged her buttocks perfectly, shifting with her movements and showcasing the soft, round shape. She could feel the denim cling to her skin, lifting just enough to tease a glimpse of the smooth flesh beneath, igniting a thrill deep inside her.
Her thighs, toned and alluring, glided together with a whispering brush, each step sending a delightful shiver through her legs. The hem of the shorts flirted with her upper thighs, riding up slightly, while the light danced across her skin, illuminating the curves and contours of her legs, making them gleam with every movement.
Above the waistband, her crop top teased a glimpse of her bare midriff, the soft skin glowing with vitality. Afrah's stomach fluttered as she sensed Vishal’s gaze lingering on the exposed strip of skin between her top and shorts. His eyes were magnetic, drawn to the alluring curve of her waist and the rhythm of her movements, each sway of her body captivating him further.
Every step she took felt intentional, charged with the awareness of his watchful eyes. She bit her lip, attempting to maintain her composure, but the thrill of the moment electrified her senses. She felt undeniably sexy, fully aware of the effect her appearance had on him, and the thought of Vishal absorbing every detail sent a rush of heat coursing through her.
As she moved deeper into the boutique, her body felt more alive, responding to the intensity of his gaze. Despite her efforts to remain composed, a part of her savored the way he looked at her, reveling in the subtle power dynamics at play and the exhilarating energy that crackled between them.
Vishal called her back just as she was about to turning , a playful glint in his eye. His hand held something small and glimmering—a delicate silver waist chain that shimmered as it caught the boutique’s soft lighting. “You have to try this on,” he said, his voice smooth, filled with an almost teasing confidence. The look he gave her made her pulse quicken. “This would look incredible on you.”
Afrah opened her mouth to protest, but before she could form a response, Vishal had already closed the distance between them. He guided her gently toward the tall mirror against the wall, positioning them both so their reflections filled the glass. Standing beside him, she felt a wave of awareness wash over her—Vishal, with his easy, self-assured presence, looking at her in a way that made her heart race. She glanced at her reflection and saw how the denim shorts hugged her thighs perfectly, the high waist accentuating the curve of her hips. Her crop top revealed just enough of her midriff, highlighting her slim waist and leaving her feeling undeniably sexy.
Vishal’s voice was low, full of admiration. “Look at you,” he murmured, his gaze intense as it lingered on her reflection. “That face… those full lips, those eyes…” His eyes traveled down slowly, taking in the shape of her body with unguarded appreciation. “And those thighs,” he added, his voice dropping slightly. “Everything about you is mesmerizing.”
[img]<a href=[/img]![[Image: GIF-20241009-194431-431.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/QJTX4Sq/GIF-20241009-194431-431.gif)
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Afrah’s breath caught in her throat as his words sank in, the intimacy of his tone sending a shiver down her spine. Before she could react, he moved closer, his breath warm against her ear. Gently, he lifted the cool, shimmering chain and dbangd it around her waist. The cold touch of the silver on her skin made her gasp softly, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his fingers. As he fastened the chain, his fingers brushed her bare skin, sending tingles through her body. The air between them felt thick, charged with something electric.
His fingers traced around her navel, lingering as he adjusted the chain, but Afrah was acutely aware of the heat radiating from his touch. His fingertips were warm, almost tender, yet the intimacy in the way they grazed her skin made her stomach flutter. His touch felt both careful and deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. Her pulse quickened with each soft glide of his fingers, and it took all her focus not to melt into his touch right there.
[img]<a href=[/img]![[Image: GIF-20241009-173946-599.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/xqmjtbZ/GIF-20241009-173946-599.gif)
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The delicate chain settled snugly against her waist, but it was the warmth of his hand that lingered long after he pulled away, leaving a sensation that made her knees weak. She could barely breathe, feeling a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. Her heart hammered in her chest, and the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. She had never felt so aware of her body, nor the way Vishal was looking at her, his eyes dark with unspoken desire.
His hand hovered near her waist for a moment longer, as if reluctant to break the contact. Then, in one smooth motion, he withdrew, but the tension between them remained, crackling in the air. Her skin still tingled from his touch, and there was an undeniable stirring inside her, a heat that was impossible to ignore. She could sense it—his desire mirroring her own, unspoken but palpable, hanging in the air between them.
Vishal’s voice was a low whisper, almost a growl. “Let’s go,” he said, his tone laced with a promise that made her heart skip a beat. Without waiting for a reply, he placed a hand on the small of her back, his touch possessive but gentle, and guided her toward the exit. The brush of his fingers against her skin sent a jolt through her, and she leaned into the contact, savoring the way his presence enveloped her.
With every step they took toward the exit, the waist chain swayed with her movements, glimmering in the soft light. It accentuated her curves with each stride, reminding her of the chain itself but more so of Vishal’s touch—how he had lingered, the intensity of his gaze, the connection they shared that went unspoken yet filled the air between them.
At Sohail home:
Rida and Sohail's mother sat across from each other in the living room, sipping tea. The conversation started on a neutral note, but soon, the topic shifted to working women.
Sohail's mother, her disapproval clear in her tone, shook her head. "I’ve never understood why a woman needs to work outside the home. A man provides, that’s his duty. A woman’s place is to take care of the house and raise children. This modern thinking… it’s just not right."
Rida raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Well, Bhai’s future wife is working, isn’t she?" she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Afrah has a job, and I hear she’s quite good at it."
Sohail's mother stiffened. "She’ll quit after the nikah, of course," she said firmly. "There’s no need for her to continue working once she becomes part of this family. I don’t want her running around offices when she should be taking care of the home."
Rida leaned back, her smile growing wider. "Oh, I see. Just making sure. You know how girls are these days. Some don’t like to quit their jobs. They enjoy the independence."
Sohail's mother frowned, clearly displeased. Before she could respond, Rida changed the subject, her tone growing more playful. "By the way, do you know that companies often send their employees on work tours? To different places, sometimes for days? I’ve heard some women take full advantage of these trips, enjoying themselves without their families."
Sohail's mother’s face darkened. "What kind of decent woman would go on a trip like that without male family members? It’s shameful, and I don’t trust such women. They must be... characterless."
Rida watched her closely, knowing full well how much this conversation would stir trouble. Sohail hadn’t mentioned Afrah’s upcoming office trip, and Rida knew his mother’s reaction would be explosive if she found out.
"Imagine," Rida continued, her tone mocking, "your daughter-in-law, going on a trip with her office. What would people say?" Her question lingers.
In Sohail room:
Sohail sat in his room, his mind swirling with thoughts of his mother's and Rida's earlier conversation. His Amma had never liked the idea of women working, and hearing Rida bring up the topic of Afrah’s job had only stirred up more doubts. It was the way Rida had mocked the idea of Afrah quitting after the nikah that bothered him—like she knew something he didn’t. His mother's disapproval of women traveling for work added another layer of unease, especially since Afrah was away on an office trip and hadn't mentioned it to her. He knew how she would react if she found out.
It was 7 p.m. now, and Rida hadn't messaged him or replied to his call. That alone was unusual, given how quick she usually was to get in touch. The silence left him with nothing but his thoughts, and they kept drifting back to that office visit.
He remembered seeing Vishal that day—how effortlessly confident he seemed. The way Vishal had looked at Afrah, and how she'd responded to him, stuck in his mind. She’d been blushing, smiling at Vishal’s words, looking... comfortable. Too comfortable. He couldn’t help but notice how she seemed to light up around Vishal, and it gnawed at him. Vishal was good-looking, muscular, everything Sohail wasn’t. The idea of her spending time with him, especially now that they were on this trip together, made his insecurities flare up.
The thought of Afrah being there with other men, especially Vishal, without a guardian—it unsettled him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, but he tried to convince himself that he was overthinking it.
Sohail’s fingers tightened around his phone as the call went to voicemail once again. The silence on the other end gnawed at him, feeding his insecurities and setting his mind on fire with suspicion. He could feel the dread creeping in, like a dark cloud spreading through his chest.
His thoughts veered dangerously, slipping back to that moment years ago—his college crush, the girl he'd thought would be his, was instead with two men. He’d seen them in that abandoned building, her body pressed between them, her lips locked with one, their hands roaming each other freely. The scene had shattered him then, and the memory now resurfaced with brutal clarity, merging with his worst fears about Afrah.
What if she was with Vishal right now? Could she be kissing him, letting him touch her the way Sohail feared? His mind painted the image in stark, unbearable detail—Afrah’s small, delicate frame pressed up against Vishal’s muscular body, her hands gripping his shoulders as their lips met hungrily. He imagined her blushing face, those soft lips parting for him, the heat between them palpable. The thought of Vishal’s strong hands sliding down her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, then slipping lower—it felt too real, too vivid.
Sohail could almost hear the soft, intimate sounds of their lips moving together, the whispered breaths, the quiet gasps of pleasure. His heart pounded painfully, his mind running wild with jealousy as he pictured Vishal pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together, the tension between them unbearable. His insecurities painted a picture of Afrah giving herself to another man, her soft moans blending with the imagined sounds of their heated kiss, their hands exploring each other with reckless abandon.
His grip on the phone tightened further as the images overwhelmed him. Could Afrah be doing this right now, as he sat helpless, miles away? His mind, spiraling into paranoia, couldn’t let go of the possibility, and the vividness of the scene left him feeling consumed by rage and fear.
His thoughts interrupted by phone ringing.
Sohail's heart raced as he listened to Afrah’s voice, a mixture of relief and dread flooding through him. “Sorry, it’s been a hectic day, she said, her tone laced with exhaustion. “I barely stepped outside the meeting room. It’s all paperwork and client calls.”
What are you doing now?” he asked, hoping for something that would anchor his mind away from his spiraling thoughts.
“I’m at the hotel poolside,”she replied, her voice light but busy.
Just then, he heard a male voice in the background, calling her name. His stomach dropped. “Who was that?” he demanded, the edge creeping into his tone despite himself.
“It’s Aman,”she replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “He’s inviting all to join the group for dinner.”
I will call you later,she said .
Afrah's call didn't gave him that much relief but it escalated his insecurity.
She spotted her colleagues Neha, Nisha, and Aman already gathered at the terminal. After greeting them, she glanced around, expecting to see Vishal. Her pulse quickened, but to her relief, Neha informed her with a smile.
Neha: “Vishal sir’s taking the next flight. Something came up.”
Afrah hid her disappointment, though a part of her had been looking forward to his intense presence. As they checked in, Nisha teased her about her first time in Goa, while Aman joked.
Aman:“Don’t get lost on the beach, Afrah!”
She laughed along, but her mind kept drifting back to the thought of Vishal, wondering what the next few days might bring. The anticipation simmered beneath the excitement of the trip.
The first day in Goa had been nothing short of exhausting. The client meeting had stretched on longer than expected, running well into the evening. Afrah barely had time to catch her breath before they were finally released from the conference room.
When she stepped into her hotel room, she was struck by its luxury. The soft lighting, plush furnishings, and the enormous bed—all details that made her feel like she’d stepped into another world. She sank into the bed, its softness enveloping her, offering comfort after a long day.
Too tired to even think, she barely registered the luxury around her. The moment her head hit the pillow, sleep overtook her.
The second day’s meeting was shorter, and to Afrah’s surprise, Vishal remained strictly professional throughout. He led the discussions with precision, his tone focused, his demeanor calm. A part of her was relieved, thankful for his professionalism. But another part—a deeper, hidden part—felt a pang of disappointment. She had expected something more, something that hinted at the tension between them.
As the meeting wrapped up, Vishal turned to the group, his expression light. “Alright, everyone. That’s it for today. Why don’t you freshen up and enjoy the hotel or head down to the beach?”
Then his eyes landed on her. He smiled—slow, deliberate, almost playful. Afrah’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she felt the heat of his gaze linger just a second too long. She knew that smile; it wasn’t just friendly. Her intuition told her there was something more behind it, something dark, seductive, and sinister.
A wave of excitement mixed with apprehension washed over her. Was she imagining it? Or was he playing a game, one that would unfold when they were away from prying eyes?
Nisha had suggested they enjoy the pool first, and everyone agreed. Back in her room, Afrah stood in her suitcase staring at clothes. Her clothes were modest, fully covered, a far cry from the two-piece bikinis she had seen some women flaunting at the pool earlier. It had caught her attention, the way those swimsuits accentuated their bodies, exuding confidence and sex appeal. She wouldn’t dare to wear something like that, though.
As she pick the dress, she found herself wondering what it would feel like—to let go of her inhibitions, to be daring for once. But no, she pushed the thought away. It wasn’t her.
Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when the doorbell rang, pulling her back to reality.
Afrah opened the door to find Vishal standing there, leaning casually in the frame. His white shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing just enough of his strong chest to make her heartbeat quicken, and he wore jeans that hung comfortably on his lean frame. His smirk was unmistakable.
"Vishal?" she asked, startled. "What are you doing here?"
Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space. "Well," he said, his voice smooth and casual, "I'm actually here for you. Get ready—we’re going somewhere." Door closed.
"Is the pool plan cancelled?" she asked, trying to hide the nerves creeping into her voice.
He gave a lazy grin. "No, let the rest of the group enjoy the pool. You and I are going somewhere else."
A thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of dread washed over her as she looked into his eyes. She knew there was something more behind that smile, something seductive and dangerous.
Vishal leaned against the wall, his smirk widening as Afrah crossed her arms, standing her ground.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep her voice steady despite the way he looked at her.
Vishal chuckled, taking a slow step closer. "Oh, come on. I thought you’d be up for a little adventure. Don’t tell me you're scared."
"Scared?" She scoffed, though her heart was racing. "Of what? You?"
He tilted his head, giving her a playful grin. "Maybe. Or maybe you're scared of how much fun you’ll have."
Afrah rolled her eyes, refusing to let him get to her. "I’m not one of those girls, Vishal. I don’t just run off whenever you snap your fingers."
"Who said anything about snapping fingers?" He winked. "I’m asking nicely."
She laughed, shaking her head. "No. The answer is still no. The pool is where I’m going. Besides, everyone will notice if I’m not there."
Vishal stepped even closer, lowering his voice, the teasing edge still in his tone. "Let them notice. What’s the harm in bending the rules a little? You might even enjoy it."
Afrah’s eyes flickered with hesitation for a moment before she brushed past him. "I'm not falling for your charm, Vishal. I know you too well. And besides," she added, her lips curling into a smirk of her own.
The bell rang, again ,she heard Neha's voice outside talking to someone.
Vishal’s smirk deepened as Afrah stood by the door, frozen with worry. The bell rang again, and her heart pounded as she whispered urgently, “Vishal, hide! It’s Neha!”
But instead of moving, he stepped closer to her, his breath warm against her ear. “Hide?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “Only if you come with me.”
"Vishal, no!" she hissed, trying to push him back, but he wasn’t budging.
He smirked, his face inches from hers. "Then I’m not hiding," he said quietly, glancing at the door as the bell rang again, Neha knocking and calling out from the other side.
Afrah’s heart raced, a mix of panic and frustration rising. "Please," she whispered, her eyes pleading. "She’ll see you. I can’t explain this."
Vishal shrugged casually. "Your call. But I'm not moving unless you agree."
Another knock echoed through the room. Afrah's eyes darted to the door. She sighed in defeat, nodding reluctantly. "Fine! I’ll come with you, just… hide."
Vishal grinned triumphantly, taking a step back but not before brushing a thumb lightly along her arm. "Good girl," he murmured, stepping into the bathroom as Afrah shot him a glare.
Taking a deep breath, Afrah opened the door. Neha stood there, already in her swimsuit and towel in hand. "Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re all heading to the pool."
Afrah forced a smile, her heart still racing. "Oh, I’m… not feeling too well. I think I’ll rest for a bit and join you guys later."
Neha frowned, looking concerned. "You sure? You seemed fine earlier."
"Yeah, just hit me suddenly. Maybe something I ate?" Afrah said, glancing nervously at the bathroom door.
"Alright… but let me know if you need anything. We’ll be down by the pool," Neha said, giving her a sympathetic smile before heading off.
As soon as the door closed, Afrah leaned back against it, exhaling in relief. Vishal emerged from the bathroom, still smirking.
"See? That wasn’t so hard," he teased.
Afrah glared at him. "I’m only doing this because you left me no choice. Don’t think I’m okay with it."
Vishal chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Now, get ready. We’re going to have some fun."
As the car ride continued, Vishal’s hand casually rested on the back of Afrah’s seat.
“Mind if I show you something?” Vishal asked, his voice smooth and teasing.
Before she could respond, he gently leaned over her to adjust the radio, his chest brushing against her arm. The subtle contact sent a jolt through her. She inhaled sharply, suddenly hyper-aware of his nearness. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, enveloped her senses.
Vishal’s hand lingered a second too long near her waist as he shifted back into his seat. His eyes met hers, holding the gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his fingers inching closer again. “I can help with that.”
Afrah’s breath hitched as his fingers traced the hem of her dress—barely touching, but enough to make her skin burn where his hand had been. She clenched her fists in her lap, fighting the urge to lean into the dangerous pull between them. He wasn’t rushing, just playing with the tension, knowing it would drive her mad.
The unspoken promise hung thick in the air. Neither said anything, but the tension was enough to set her heart racing, a slow burn building inside her as his hand hovered at the edge of temptation.
Vishal parked the car in front of a high-end boutique, its glass windows glittering with expensive dresses on display.
"Why are we here?" Afrah asked, a bit uneasy, as she looked at the dazzling store.
Vishal smirked, stepping out and opening her door. “I thought you could use a little upgrade to that dress of yours.” His eyes roamed over her, not in a lewd way, but enough to make her skin tingle. "Come on, something that shows off... more of you."
Afrah hesitated, but he was already guiding her into the store, his hand lightly pressing against her lower back. Inside, racks of luxurious, daring dresses greeted her. One by one, Vishal picked out pieces—denim shorts, plunging necklines, slits that ran scandalously high.
“Try this,” he handed her a denim shorts and a white crop top. It looked like it could barely cover her modestly, but the fabric was undeniably sensual.
As Afrah stared at the denim shorts, her thoughts flashed back to that night. The first time Vishal had taken her shopping, she had tried on a dress with a slit that revealed just enough of her thigh to make his gaze linger. She had never felt so exposed, yet so desired. The way his eyes had traveled over her body, appreciating every curve, had made her feel an intoxicating mix of power and vulnerability. She remembered the heat in his touch, the way his hand had slid over her thigh, sparking sensations she hadn’t allowed herself to explore before.
And then, that kiss—his lips claiming hers with a force she hadn’t anticipated, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.
Now, here she was again, holding the tiny shorts. They were far more daring than anything she had ever worn. The thought of wearing them, exposing so much skin, sent a chill down her spine. How would she look in them? More importantly, how would Vishal look at her?
Her pulse quickened as she imagined stepping out of the dressing room, Vishal’s gaze devouring her once again, his smirk deepening with approval. The thought sent a rush of excitement and dread through her. Could she handle that kind of attention again? Could she handle the tension between them building even more?
With a deep breath, Afrah made her decision.
Afrah shook her head, holding the denim shorts and crop top at arm’s length. “I can’t wear this, Vishal. It’s way too much—or rather, too little.” She looked up, hoping to see a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
But Vishal’s smirk only deepened as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come on, Afrah. It’s not that scandalous. You’ve got the body for it—why not show it off?”
Afrah felt a flush creep up her neck. “Because I don’t need to show off, and I’m not comfortable—”
Vishal cut her off, stepping closer. “Or maybe you’re afraid of how good you’ll look in it.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, just inches from her ear. “You’ll turn heads. Everyone will be looking at you. Including me.”
Afrah’s heart raced as he brushed a hand lightly over her arm, teasing her skin with his fingertips. “I don’t need anyone looking at me like that,” she whispered, her voice betraying her resolve.
“Don’t you?” Vishal whispered back, his breath warm against her neck. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you like it when I watch you? You enjoy the attention.”
She swallowed hard, torn between defiance and the magnetic pull of his words. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
He chuckled softly, stepping back, giving her space—but only enough to make her miss the closeness. “Afrah, trust me. You’ll look incredible in those shorts.” His eyes darkened as they traveled down to the shorts in her hands. “You should wear them... for me.”
Her breath hitched. There was something dangerously seductive in the way he said it, like a challenge she couldn’t back down from. She tried to muster some resistance, but his confidence, his persistence, were making her waver.
“Vishal, I...”
“If you don’t try them on,” he said, his voice velvety smooth, “I’m not leaving. In fact, I might just stay here and help you with them myself.”
Afrah’s pulse raced at the insinuation, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words and the intensity in his eyes. She looked at him, then back at the shorts, biting her lip in hesitation.
Finally, with a resigned sigh, she stepped toward the dressing room. "Fine. But only this once."
Vishal grinned, watching her disappear behind the room, his eyes gleaming with victory.
Afrah slowly slid the denim shorts up her legs, the fabric clinging tightly to her thighs, hugging every curve as it stretched to fit her hips. The denim pressed against her skin in a way that felt foreign, yet thrilling, emphasizing the shape of her thighs and the gentle curve of her buttocks. She adjusted them, tugging slightly to make them sit higher, and noticed how they framed her backside, lifting it, making it appear more defined, more voluptuous. Every small movement she made caused the shorts to ride up just enough to tease, exposing more of her smooth, sun-kissed skin.
[img]<a href=[/img]
" />Her reflection in the mirror showed a woman she barely recognized. Her thighs looked long and toned, the slight dip where they met her hips making her legs seem endless. The shorts hugged her body so tightly that the fabric outlined every contour, highlighting the swell of her buttocks and the firm roundness beneath.
As her gaze traveled upwards, she took in the small strip of bare skin between the top of the shorts and the hem of the crop top. Her waist was slender, the gentle inward curve leading the eye naturally to the soft rise of her hips. The top was fitted snugly around her chest, accentuating the fullness of her breasts, the fabric pulling tight over her curves in a way that was both revealing and tantalizing.
Her bare midriff was smooth, her skin glistening slightly under the soft lights of the changing room. The subtle lines of her abdomen were visible, leading the eye down from the swell of her breasts to the dip of her navel and the firm line of her hips. The crop top ended just below her ribcage, leaving her entire waist exposed, and the way the fabric clung to her body made her look both confident and sultry.
Turning slightly, Afrah admired how the shorts framed her backside, the way they seemed to mold to her body, making her buttocks look rounder, fuller, with each movement making the denim pull taut. Her smooth, toned legs stretched out beneath her, the contrast between the tight shorts and her bare skin drawing attention to every inch of her body. She could see the curve of her thighs, the way they met her hips in a seamless line of softness and strength, and it made her feel undeniably sexy.
Her breasts rose gently with each breath, the crop top pulling tightly against them, accentuating the soft rise and fall of her chest. She could see the outline of her figure clearly, every inch of her body perfectly showcased in the mirror, and for the first time, she felt the power of her own femininity. There was a seductive allure to the way the clothes highlighted her curves, leaving just enough to the imagination, but showing enough to make her feel daring and bold.
Afrah ran her fingers lightly along the bare skin of her waist, feeling the smoothness of her body and the way the clothes accentuated her natural shape. There was a thrill in seeing herself like this, a mix of vulnerability and confidence that sent a rush of excitement through her. The way the shorts hugged her hips and the crop top framed her breasts made her feel powerful, like she was embracing a part of herself she had long suppressed.
In that moment, staring at her reflection, Afrah couldn’t help but appreciate the way her body looked—strong, feminine, and undeniably sexy.
As Afrah stepped out of the changing room, she could feel the intensity of Vishal’s gaze settle on her. It was impossible to ignore the way his eyes traveled down her body, lingering on every curve. The tight denim shorts clung to her hips, accentuating the smooth, sensual sway of her body as she walked. The fabric hugged her buttocks, framing them perfectly, lifting just enough with every step to reveal more of her soft, supple thighs. Each movement seemed to tease him, the shorts riding up slightly as she walked, enhancing the roundness of her curves in a way that was both seductive and effortlessly natural.https://i.ibb.co/QnHp5nT/GIF-20241009-223444-502.gif[/img]" />[img=539x1250]<a href=[/img]
" />Her legs, long and bare, gleamed under the boutique’s soft lighting. The smoothness of her skin was on full display, her toned thighs catching the light as she moved with a subtle grace. Every step she took made the shorts pull just a little tighter against her, showing off the shapely lines of her body, the way her thighs flowed seamlessly into the curve of her hips.
Above the waistband of the shorts, her bare waist was exposed, the gentle rise and fall of her abdomen visible between the low-slung denim and the tight crop top. Her skin was warm and flushed, contrasting against the soft fabric of the top, which hugged her chest in a way that emphasized her curves. The exposed sliver of her midriff made her feel vulnerable but also powerful, aware of how his eyes followed the smooth, inviting line of her waist.
As she walked past him, she could feel his gaze on her, the undeniable heat of his attention making her pulse quicken. The way his eyes lingered on her bare skin, on the way the shorts cupped her perfectly, sent a thrill down her spine. She could sense his desire, the hunger in his eyes, and it both unsettled and excited her.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said, trying to sound stern, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her nerves.
Vishal smirked, leaning against the wall as his gaze never left her body. “Can’t help it,” he said, his voice low, filled with a teasing edge. “You look so sexy, Afrah. That outfit... it’s dangerous.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from the intensity of his gaze, but it only pushed her breasts up, making the top cling tighter. “I feel ridiculous. This is way too much... or too little,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes.
“Too little?” Vishal stepped closer, his voice dropping into that smooth, seductive tone. “Nah, it’s just the right amount. You’re stunning. And I know you feel it too.”
Afrah’s heart pounded as she felt his presence inches away. His words sent a flush up her neck, but she forced herself to remain composed, brushing off the heat building between them. “This is just... for fun. Don’t make it a big deal.”
Vishal chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, it’s a big deal. You’re killing me right now. I could barely keep my eyes off you before, but now...” He let his words hang, the implication clear.
Afrah’s pulse quickened, but she forced a smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Vishal’s grin widened as he stepped even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you... you’re irresistible.”
She could feel his breath on her skin, the way his eyes burned with desire, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily. “You should really stop trying to flirt with me, Vishal,” she said, her voice firmer now, though her heart raced.
His smirk didn’t waver. “I will, when you stop enjoying it so much.”
Afrah’s eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and frustration. She turned on her heel, pretending to ignore him, but she couldn’t hide the slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
As Afrah turned to walk away, she felt Vishal’s gaze, hot and penetrating, tracing her figure like an intimate touch. Each step brought out the seductive sway of her hips, the tight denim shorts wrapping around her body and accentuating the gentle curve of her waist. The fabric hugged her buttocks perfectly, shifting with her movements and showcasing the soft, round shape. She could feel the denim cling to her skin, lifting just enough to tease a glimpse of the smooth flesh beneath, igniting a thrill deep inside her.
Her thighs, toned and alluring, glided together with a whispering brush, each step sending a delightful shiver through her legs. The hem of the shorts flirted with her upper thighs, riding up slightly, while the light danced across her skin, illuminating the curves and contours of her legs, making them gleam with every movement.
Above the waistband, her crop top teased a glimpse of her bare midriff, the soft skin glowing with vitality. Afrah's stomach fluttered as she sensed Vishal’s gaze lingering on the exposed strip of skin between her top and shorts. His eyes were magnetic, drawn to the alluring curve of her waist and the rhythm of her movements, each sway of her body captivating him further.
Every step she took felt intentional, charged with the awareness of his watchful eyes. She bit her lip, attempting to maintain her composure, but the thrill of the moment electrified her senses. She felt undeniably sexy, fully aware of the effect her appearance had on him, and the thought of Vishal absorbing every detail sent a rush of heat coursing through her.
As she moved deeper into the boutique, her body felt more alive, responding to the intensity of his gaze. Despite her efforts to remain composed, a part of her savored the way he looked at her, reveling in the subtle power dynamics at play and the exhilarating energy that crackled between them.
Vishal called her back just as she was about to turning , a playful glint in his eye. His hand held something small and glimmering—a delicate silver waist chain that shimmered as it caught the boutique’s soft lighting. “You have to try this on,” he said, his voice smooth, filled with an almost teasing confidence. The look he gave her made her pulse quicken. “This would look incredible on you.”
Afrah opened her mouth to protest, but before she could form a response, Vishal had already closed the distance between them. He guided her gently toward the tall mirror against the wall, positioning them both so their reflections filled the glass. Standing beside him, she felt a wave of awareness wash over her—Vishal, with his easy, self-assured presence, looking at her in a way that made her heart race. She glanced at her reflection and saw how the denim shorts hugged her thighs perfectly, the high waist accentuating the curve of her hips. Her crop top revealed just enough of her midriff, highlighting her slim waist and leaving her feeling undeniably sexy.
Vishal’s voice was low, full of admiration. “Look at you,” he murmured, his gaze intense as it lingered on her reflection. “That face… those full lips, those eyes…” His eyes traveled down slowly, taking in the shape of her body with unguarded appreciation. “And those thighs,” he added, his voice dropping slightly. “Everything about you is mesmerizing.”
[img]<a href=[/img]
" />Afrah’s breath caught in her throat as his words sank in, the intimacy of his tone sending a shiver down her spine. Before she could react, he moved closer, his breath warm against her ear. Gently, he lifted the cool, shimmering chain and dbangd it around her waist. The cold touch of the silver on her skin made her gasp softly, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his fingers. As he fastened the chain, his fingers brushed her bare skin, sending tingles through her body. The air between them felt thick, charged with something electric.
His fingers traced around her navel, lingering as he adjusted the chain, but Afrah was acutely aware of the heat radiating from his touch. His fingertips were warm, almost tender, yet the intimacy in the way they grazed her skin made her stomach flutter. His touch felt both careful and deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. Her pulse quickened with each soft glide of his fingers, and it took all her focus not to melt into his touch right there.
[img]<a href=[/img]
" />The delicate chain settled snugly against her waist, but it was the warmth of his hand that lingered long after he pulled away, leaving a sensation that made her knees weak. She could barely breathe, feeling a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. Her heart hammered in her chest, and the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. She had never felt so aware of her body, nor the way Vishal was looking at her, his eyes dark with unspoken desire.
His hand hovered near her waist for a moment longer, as if reluctant to break the contact. Then, in one smooth motion, he withdrew, but the tension between them remained, crackling in the air. Her skin still tingled from his touch, and there was an undeniable stirring inside her, a heat that was impossible to ignore. She could sense it—his desire mirroring her own, unspoken but palpable, hanging in the air between them.
Vishal’s voice was a low whisper, almost a growl. “Let’s go,” he said, his tone laced with a promise that made her heart skip a beat. Without waiting for a reply, he placed a hand on the small of her back, his touch possessive but gentle, and guided her toward the exit. The brush of his fingers against her skin sent a jolt through her, and she leaned into the contact, savoring the way his presence enveloped her.
With every step they took toward the exit, the waist chain swayed with her movements, glimmering in the soft light. It accentuated her curves with each stride, reminding her of the chain itself but more so of Vishal’s touch—how he had lingered, the intensity of his gaze, the connection they shared that went unspoken yet filled the air between them.
At Sohail home:
Rida and Sohail's mother sat across from each other in the living room, sipping tea. The conversation started on a neutral note, but soon, the topic shifted to working women.
Sohail's mother, her disapproval clear in her tone, shook her head. "I’ve never understood why a woman needs to work outside the home. A man provides, that’s his duty. A woman’s place is to take care of the house and raise children. This modern thinking… it’s just not right."
Rida raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Well, Bhai’s future wife is working, isn’t she?" she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Afrah has a job, and I hear she’s quite good at it."
Sohail's mother stiffened. "She’ll quit after the nikah, of course," she said firmly. "There’s no need for her to continue working once she becomes part of this family. I don’t want her running around offices when she should be taking care of the home."
Rida leaned back, her smile growing wider. "Oh, I see. Just making sure. You know how girls are these days. Some don’t like to quit their jobs. They enjoy the independence."
Sohail's mother frowned, clearly displeased. Before she could respond, Rida changed the subject, her tone growing more playful. "By the way, do you know that companies often send their employees on work tours? To different places, sometimes for days? I’ve heard some women take full advantage of these trips, enjoying themselves without their families."
Sohail's mother’s face darkened. "What kind of decent woman would go on a trip like that without male family members? It’s shameful, and I don’t trust such women. They must be... characterless."
Rida watched her closely, knowing full well how much this conversation would stir trouble. Sohail hadn’t mentioned Afrah’s upcoming office trip, and Rida knew his mother’s reaction would be explosive if she found out.
"Imagine," Rida continued, her tone mocking, "your daughter-in-law, going on a trip with her office. What would people say?" Her question lingers.
In Sohail room:
Sohail sat in his room, his mind swirling with thoughts of his mother's and Rida's earlier conversation. His Amma had never liked the idea of women working, and hearing Rida bring up the topic of Afrah’s job had only stirred up more doubts. It was the way Rida had mocked the idea of Afrah quitting after the nikah that bothered him—like she knew something he didn’t. His mother's disapproval of women traveling for work added another layer of unease, especially since Afrah was away on an office trip and hadn't mentioned it to her. He knew how she would react if she found out.
It was 7 p.m. now, and Rida hadn't messaged him or replied to his call. That alone was unusual, given how quick she usually was to get in touch. The silence left him with nothing but his thoughts, and they kept drifting back to that office visit.
He remembered seeing Vishal that day—how effortlessly confident he seemed. The way Vishal had looked at Afrah, and how she'd responded to him, stuck in his mind. She’d been blushing, smiling at Vishal’s words, looking... comfortable. Too comfortable. He couldn’t help but notice how she seemed to light up around Vishal, and it gnawed at him. Vishal was good-looking, muscular, everything Sohail wasn’t. The idea of her spending time with him, especially now that they were on this trip together, made his insecurities flare up.
The thought of Afrah being there with other men, especially Vishal, without a guardian—it unsettled him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, but he tried to convince himself that he was overthinking it.
Sohail’s fingers tightened around his phone as the call went to voicemail once again. The silence on the other end gnawed at him, feeding his insecurities and setting his mind on fire with suspicion. He could feel the dread creeping in, like a dark cloud spreading through his chest.
His thoughts veered dangerously, slipping back to that moment years ago—his college crush, the girl he'd thought would be his, was instead with two men. He’d seen them in that abandoned building, her body pressed between them, her lips locked with one, their hands roaming each other freely. The scene had shattered him then, and the memory now resurfaced with brutal clarity, merging with his worst fears about Afrah.
What if she was with Vishal right now? Could she be kissing him, letting him touch her the way Sohail feared? His mind painted the image in stark, unbearable detail—Afrah’s small, delicate frame pressed up against Vishal’s muscular body, her hands gripping his shoulders as their lips met hungrily. He imagined her blushing face, those soft lips parting for him, the heat between them palpable. The thought of Vishal’s strong hands sliding down her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, then slipping lower—it felt too real, too vivid.
Sohail could almost hear the soft, intimate sounds of their lips moving together, the whispered breaths, the quiet gasps of pleasure. His heart pounded painfully, his mind running wild with jealousy as he pictured Vishal pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together, the tension between them unbearable. His insecurities painted a picture of Afrah giving herself to another man, her soft moans blending with the imagined sounds of their heated kiss, their hands exploring each other with reckless abandon.
His grip on the phone tightened further as the images overwhelmed him. Could Afrah be doing this right now, as he sat helpless, miles away? His mind, spiraling into paranoia, couldn’t let go of the possibility, and the vividness of the scene left him feeling consumed by rage and fear.
His thoughts interrupted by phone ringing.
Sohail's heart raced as he listened to Afrah’s voice, a mixture of relief and dread flooding through him. “Sorry, it’s been a hectic day, she said, her tone laced with exhaustion. “I barely stepped outside the meeting room. It’s all paperwork and client calls.”
What are you doing now?” he asked, hoping for something that would anchor his mind away from his spiraling thoughts.
“I’m at the hotel poolside,”she replied, her voice light but busy.
Just then, he heard a male voice in the background, calling her name. His stomach dropped. “Who was that?” he demanded, the edge creeping into his tone despite himself.
“It’s Aman,”she replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “He’s inviting all to join the group for dinner.”
I will call you later,she said .
Afrah's call didn't gave him that much relief but it escalated his insecurity.
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