Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust

[Zoz34]

After the botique they went to the beachside restaurant.


As they sat at the open beachside restaurant, the salty breeze from the ocean played with Afrah’s hair, the waves crashing softly in the background. The setting sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything, making the scene feel surreal. They had just ordered seafood, and Afrah was trying to relax, taking in the beauty around her. But Vishal’s eyes kept wandering to her, and she could feel it—the weight of his gaze moving across her body, lingering on her bust and the bare skin of her waist exposed by the crop top.
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"Stop looking at me like that, you pervert," she said, her voice sharp but colored with a nervous laugh. She could feel her cheeks heating up, the blush creeping up her neck despite herself.

Vishal didn’t even bother to deny it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk, his eyes unapologetically sweeping over her again. "I can’t help it," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You make it impossible to look away."

Afrah crossed her arms over her chest instinctively, trying to shield herself from his gaze, but it only drew his attention further. "You’re unbelievable," she muttered, trying to keep her composure, but her pulse raced in response to his unabashed admiration.

Vishal leaned forward now, his elbows resting on the table as his eyes met hers, holding her gaze. "You know," he began, his tone teasing but laced with something darker, more suggestive, "you’ve got this thing about you, Afrah. You pretend to be all innocent and proper, but deep down, I think you like the attention."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. "I—what?" she stammered, her voice faltering. "That's not—"

"Don’t lie to me," he interrupted, his voice soft but insistent. "You enjoy it. The way you move… you know exactly what you’re doing. You like knowing that I’m watching you, that I can’t take my eyes off you."

Afrah opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She could feel her body betraying her, the way her pulse quickened, how the tension between them was growing thicker with every passing second.

"See?" Vishal chuckled softly, his eyes flicking down to her lips, then back up to her eyes. "You don’t have to admit it out loud, but I can see it in your face. You’re blushing, aren’t you?"

Afrah swallowed hard, trying to regain control. "You’re so full of yourself," she shot back, but even to her own ears, it sounded weak. She wasn’t used to this—being spoken to like this, being looked at like this. And the worst part was, as much as she wanted to deny it, there was a part of her that thrilled at his attention.

Vishal grinned, leaning back again, satisfied with her reaction. "You like it when I look at you, Afrah. And you know what? I’m going to keep looking. Because you look incredible in that outfit, and every guy in here is probably wishing they were me right now, sitting here with you."

Afrah’s heart pounded, a mixture of excitement and unease swirling inside her. His words were bold, teasing, but there was a seductive pull to them, an undeniable magnetism. She could feel the heat of his gaze even when she looked away, trying to focus on the ocean instead of the way her skin tingled under his attention.

"You've got some nerve," she said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper, as she glanced around nervously. The restaurant was open and lively, but she felt exposed under Vishal’s intense gaze. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses faded into the background as the world around them blurred, narrowing down to just the two of them and the charged air between them.

Vishal leaned forward again, the playful smirk on his lips replaced with a serious, seductive intensity that made her heart race. “It’s not nerve, Afrah. It’s the truth.” His voice was a low, velvety murmur, intimate and laced with promise. His eyes flicked down to her exposed waist once again, lingering just long enough to make her squirm in her seat, her body responding to the heat of his gaze despite her mind screaming at her to pull away.

“The truth is,” he continued, his tone dropping even lower, drawing her in, “I want to run my hands along that smooth skin of yours.” His voice was thick with desire, and Afrah felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought. She could almost feel the weight of his hands on her waist, the heat radiating from his palms, igniting her senses and making her skin tingle with anticipation.

“See how you react when I touch you... here,” he said, his fingers tracing an imaginary line along her waist, his eyes watching her every reaction. “And maybe... a little lower.” The suggestion hung in the air like a thick fog, heavy and intoxicating, swirling around them and clouding her thoughts.

Afrah’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding a rapid rhythm against her chest as his words sank in. The tension was unbearable, the line they were toeing dangerously thin. She felt a mix of thrill and fear coursing through her veins, the very real possibility of crossing that line looming like a tantalizing cliff.

“What are you doing to me?” she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She was acutely aware of her bare waist, the way her crop top bared her skin to the warm air, making her feel both exposed and alive. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” Vishal challenged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re the one who looks like a temptress, tempting me with every inch of you.” He leaned in even closer, the distance between them dwindling to nothing, their faces just inches apart. “You’re the one looking so sexy,” he murmured, his gaze drifting down to her midriff, his breath warm against her skin. “And it’s driving me wild.”[img]<a href=[/img]" />

Afrah’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, a mix of embarrassment and thrill at his unabashed admiration. The way he looked at her, so hungrily, made her pulse quicken. She felt alive in a way she had never experienced before, but the reality of their situation sent a wave of panic coursing through her. “Vishal, we can’t,” she protested weakly, even as she found herself leaning closer, her body betraying her as it craved the very closeness she feared.

“But you want to,” he countered, his voice a low whisper, sending ripples of heat through her. His eyes bore into hers, searching, teasing, and she felt utterly exposed under his scrutiny. “You can’t deny that you feel this too. The chemistry between us... it’s electric.”

As he spoke, Afrah could feel the tension crackling in the air around them, almost tangible, like a live wire ready to snap. Every word he said sent jolts of awareness coursing through her, igniting a fire deep within her that she had kept buried for far too long. His gaze, intense and unwavering, held her captive, and she found it impossible to look away.

“Just imagine,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “What it would feel like if I let my fingers glide along your skin.” His words painted vivid images in her mind, igniting her imagination and stirring something primal within her. She felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks, and she bit her lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape.

“Vishal… ” she breathed, her heart racing as her body reacted against her will. She could already picture his hands exploring her waist, trailing lower, where she dared not let her thoughts go. The heat in his gaze, the way he leaned closer, closing the space between them—it all felt so wrong and yet so deliciously right.

“Don’t fight it, Afrah,” he whispered, his voice a silken caress. “Just let it happen.” The promise in his words hung between them, intoxicating and dangerously tempting, and for the first time, she found herself considering the possibilities, the thrill of surrendering to the moment and the wild rush it promised.

Afrah's breath hitched as the charged moment stretched between them, her pulse hammering in her ears. She knew she should pull away, but instead, she found herself biting her lip, her body betraying the warning bells going off in her mind.

Vishal smirked, his eyes never leaving hers. “See? You want this as much as I do,” he whispered, leaning back with a playful grin. His hand brushed hers lightly on the table, sending a spark through her.

With a nervous laugh, Afrah shook her head, trying to regain control. “You’re trouble, Vishal,” she said softly, her voice teasing but still breathless. “You should really watch yourself.”
"This is how you charm all your so-called *girlfriends*, isn’t it, Mr. Playboy?" she quipped, her voice filled with mock amusement. She leaned back in her chair, flipping her hair over her shoulder with an air of nonchalance. "But let me tell you, Vishal—it’s not going to work on me." 

She raised an eyebrow, smirking at him, knowing full well that his teasing was all part of his charm. "Try harder next time. I hear a lot of practice makes perfect," she added with a laugh, her tone light, deflecting the