02-04-2025, 11:15 PM
The car moved steadily toward the airport. Vanitha and Angith sat on opposite sides, each gazing out their respective windows. Angith, on the right, subtly shifted his eyes toward her. Her hair fluttered in the breeze as she looked outside, her red lips enhanced by lipstick, adding to her allure. His gaze traveled down her graceful neck, along her arm covered by the black blouse, and settled on her waist. When Vanitha raised her right hand to adjust her hair, her midriff came fully into view, offering Angith an unobstructed sight. Confirming her attention was elsewhere, he let his eyes caress her bare skin.
Between the folds of her black saree, her waist curved with three soft rolls of flesh, her navel partially concealed by the fabric’s edge. Even that glimpse of her navel was enough to make his cock twitch. Adjusting his position, he double-checked that she wasn’t looking, then let his gaze trace the first fold of her waist, glide past the second, and linger on the third before settling on her half-exposed navel. As she shifted in her seat, the saree slipped further, revealing more of her navel and sending a shiver through him. Lost in the sight, he didn’t notice Vanitha catch his reflection in the driver’s side mirror. She casually adjusted her saree to cover herself, as if it were unintentional. Pretending he hadn’t been caught, Angith turned his eyes outward. Vanitha brushed it off as a typical male weakness, soothing her own unease.
By 12:30 PM, the car reached the airport. They got out, completed the formalities, and boarded the 12:50 flight. Inside the plane, Vanitha pulled the tickets from her handbag and checked their seat numbers. Turning to Mr. Angith, she said, "The window and middle seats in the fifth row are ours," and led the way to their spots, with Angith following.
Once they reached the seats, she said, "I don’t like window seats, so you take the window." Mr. Angith replied, "No problem," and settled into the window seat. As Vanitha lifted her handbag to the overhead bin, her saree rode up, exposing her entire midriff and a hint of one breast to Angith. This time, he saw her waist up close—stretched taut, her navel elongated and straight. He could even make out the faint stretch marks around it from childbirth, lines that framed her belly like a sensual sketch, making it all the more erotic. The sight sent a tremor through his body; his mind screamed to grab her waist and kiss it. His eyes refused to leave her navel until she lowered her arms, placed the bag, and sat beside him with a small gap between them. They exchanged smiles—hers fresh and bright, his tinged with a sheepish lust.
Moments later, a stout woman in a churidar approached their row. "Madam, this corner seat is mine," she said. Vanitha smiled and shifted closer to Angith to make room. When the woman sat, her bulk forced Vanitha to press against Angith, their bodies brushing together. Though it felt awkward, it secretly thrilled him. They shared uneasy smiles, masking the tension. Soon, as the plane prepared for takeoff, the air hostess instructed passengers to fasten their seat belts. Angith buckled his and glanced at Vanitha, who was fumbling with hers.
Leaning over to help, he bent toward her lap to secure the belt. His hand accidentally pressed against her breast, the contact firm and unmistakable. Though it unsettled her, a shiver of arousal coursed through her body. Finishing, Angith looked up and grinned, "It’s over." Her return smile carried a hint of nervousness. Minutes later, the plane lifted off, soaring into the sky.
Shortly after takeoff, an air hostess approached with a tray of juice glasses. "Ma’am," she said. The stout woman took one first. Vanitha reached for hers, and as Angith extended his hand for his, his elbow pressed into her breast again. This time, they both felt it keenly. The pressure sent a quiet thrill through him, his cock stirring in his pants. Vanitha, too, registered the jolt—another man’s touch on her breast made her body tingle, despite her mind’s protest. They drank their juice, chatted briefly about company matters, and soon drifted off to sleep.
Half an hour later, Angith woke from his nap and found Vanitha sitting close beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as she slept. He realized his right hand had slipped past her arm and was hovering near her waist, his fingers brushing directly against her bare skin. Understanding that his hand must have landed on her midriff unconsciously during sleep, a wave of temptation surged through him. Slowly, he spread the fingers that had been grazing her waist, pressing his palm fully against her flesh. His middle and ring fingers began to softly stroke her belly. Angith shifted closer to her, narrowing the gap between them. His body now trembled slightly, a mix of fear and overflowing desire.
His fingers, lingering on the third fold of her waist near the edge of her saree’s pleat, glided upward, caressing the second fold before reaching the first, just below her blouse, then slid back down. After teasing her like this for a moment, they moved straight from the third fold toward the depths of her saree. Confirming she was still asleep, Angith summoned a flicker of courage and placed all five fingers flat against her stomach, guiding them toward her navel. As his fingers gently roamed her belly, his middle finger was the first to touch her navel, and he felt his body shudder. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he let his middle finger—hidden beneath her saree—trace the rim of her navel in slow circles.
After circling her navel for a while, his middle finger slipped gently inside it. His trembling intensified. He then placed his thumb on the upper edge of her navel, using it to stroke the top while his middle finger probed within. After a moment, he lowered his thumb inside her navel and slid his middle finger downward, caressing the lower part of it. Just then, the stout woman sleeping beside Vanitha stirred clumsily, bumping into her. Vanitha woke with a start, her eyes fluttering open in a half-daze.
Still groggy, Vanitha sensed something shifting in her body. Then she realized Angith’s hand was stroking her navel, and shock jolted her awake. She instinctively wanted to slap his hand away, but in that split second, she felt her body reveling in the pleasure of his touch. Her mind screamed that letting him continue was a betrayal of her marriage, yet her body refused to heed the warning. In the battle between mind and flesh, her body won. Pretending to still be asleep, she silently permitted Angith’s caresses without him knowing.
His middle finger, which had been stroking the lower part of her navel, slid upward, dipping back inside and circling its inner walls. His cock now stood fully erect, straining against the fabric of his pants. After a while, he withdrew his finger from her navel and placed his entire palm flat against her midriff, rubbing it slowly. Vanitha marveled inwardly at his boldness and the tenderness of his touch.
His hand began to creep upward from her belly. Her mind blared a warning—“If you don’t stop this now, it’s a betrayal of Vinith”—but his fingers had already reached the upper curve of her left breast over her blouse. When his hand brushed her breast, Vanitha felt her nipples harden, pressing against her bra.
Angith’s hand started circling her breast slowly. After a few moments, he slid it to the underside, using his index finger to stroke her nipple up and down through the fabric. The sensation sent shivers through her, and she felt wetness seep into her pussy. His index finger, now teasing her nipple outside the blouse, joined his thumb to grip it fully, twisting it gently as if to knead it. The motion overwhelmed her senses, leaving her reeling. She ached to press his hand harder against her breast, but her mind flashed to her marriage, forcing her to steady herself.
After playing with her nipple for a while, his hand drifted back down to rub her belly. Suddenly, the stout woman jolted awake, brushing heavily against Vanitha as she rose to head to the bathroom. Startled, Angith yanked his hand from beneath Vanitha’s saree and rested it in his lap. Realizing she could no longer feign sleep, Vanitha slowly lifted her head from his shoulder, acting as if she’d just woken up. They exchanged smiles, but this time, both carried a hint of awkwardness.
Soon, the stout woman returned from the bathroom and settled back into her seat. Vanitha rose gently, giving Angith—whose hands had been roaming her belly—a chance to feast his eyes on her as she walked to the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door, lifted her saree to her waist, and slid her panties down to her knees before sitting on the Western toilet. As she sat, she ran her left hand over her pussy, feeling the slickness from Angith’s touch. The realization that she’d not only allowed another man’s caress but had enjoyed it filled her with self-loathing. She resolved firmly that this must never happen again—and if it did, she’d stop it immediately. After relieving herself, she stood, adjusted her clothes, washed her face, wiped it dry, and returned to her seat.
Angith, who had been facing the window, turned to her as she sat. "Good nap, huh?" he asked. "Mm," she murmured, unwilling to engage further. She grabbed a magazine from the seat pocket and started reading. Angith, acting as if nothing had happened, picked up his own magazine and began to read, though a faint tremor of fear lingered in his mind.
Five minutes later, an announcement declared the plane would land soon. They set their magazines down and sat up straighter, preparing to disembark. Exactly five minutes later, the plane touched down at Delhi airport. They exited, collected their luggage, and made their way to the terminal entrance. A driver sent for them stood there, holding a sign with their names. They approached him with a polite smile, handed over their bags, and followed him to the car, where they climbed in and settled down.
Between the folds of her black saree, her waist curved with three soft rolls of flesh, her navel partially concealed by the fabric’s edge. Even that glimpse of her navel was enough to make his cock twitch. Adjusting his position, he double-checked that she wasn’t looking, then let his gaze trace the first fold of her waist, glide past the second, and linger on the third before settling on her half-exposed navel. As she shifted in her seat, the saree slipped further, revealing more of her navel and sending a shiver through him. Lost in the sight, he didn’t notice Vanitha catch his reflection in the driver’s side mirror. She casually adjusted her saree to cover herself, as if it were unintentional. Pretending he hadn’t been caught, Angith turned his eyes outward. Vanitha brushed it off as a typical male weakness, soothing her own unease.
By 12:30 PM, the car reached the airport. They got out, completed the formalities, and boarded the 12:50 flight. Inside the plane, Vanitha pulled the tickets from her handbag and checked their seat numbers. Turning to Mr. Angith, she said, "The window and middle seats in the fifth row are ours," and led the way to their spots, with Angith following.
Once they reached the seats, she said, "I don’t like window seats, so you take the window." Mr. Angith replied, "No problem," and settled into the window seat. As Vanitha lifted her handbag to the overhead bin, her saree rode up, exposing her entire midriff and a hint of one breast to Angith. This time, he saw her waist up close—stretched taut, her navel elongated and straight. He could even make out the faint stretch marks around it from childbirth, lines that framed her belly like a sensual sketch, making it all the more erotic. The sight sent a tremor through his body; his mind screamed to grab her waist and kiss it. His eyes refused to leave her navel until she lowered her arms, placed the bag, and sat beside him with a small gap between them. They exchanged smiles—hers fresh and bright, his tinged with a sheepish lust.
Moments later, a stout woman in a churidar approached their row. "Madam, this corner seat is mine," she said. Vanitha smiled and shifted closer to Angith to make room. When the woman sat, her bulk forced Vanitha to press against Angith, their bodies brushing together. Though it felt awkward, it secretly thrilled him. They shared uneasy smiles, masking the tension. Soon, as the plane prepared for takeoff, the air hostess instructed passengers to fasten their seat belts. Angith buckled his and glanced at Vanitha, who was fumbling with hers.
Leaning over to help, he bent toward her lap to secure the belt. His hand accidentally pressed against her breast, the contact firm and unmistakable. Though it unsettled her, a shiver of arousal coursed through her body. Finishing, Angith looked up and grinned, "It’s over." Her return smile carried a hint of nervousness. Minutes later, the plane lifted off, soaring into the sky.
Shortly after takeoff, an air hostess approached with a tray of juice glasses. "Ma’am," she said. The stout woman took one first. Vanitha reached for hers, and as Angith extended his hand for his, his elbow pressed into her breast again. This time, they both felt it keenly. The pressure sent a quiet thrill through him, his cock stirring in his pants. Vanitha, too, registered the jolt—another man’s touch on her breast made her body tingle, despite her mind’s protest. They drank their juice, chatted briefly about company matters, and soon drifted off to sleep.
Half an hour later, Angith woke from his nap and found Vanitha sitting close beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as she slept. He realized his right hand had slipped past her arm and was hovering near her waist, his fingers brushing directly against her bare skin. Understanding that his hand must have landed on her midriff unconsciously during sleep, a wave of temptation surged through him. Slowly, he spread the fingers that had been grazing her waist, pressing his palm fully against her flesh. His middle and ring fingers began to softly stroke her belly. Angith shifted closer to her, narrowing the gap between them. His body now trembled slightly, a mix of fear and overflowing desire.
His fingers, lingering on the third fold of her waist near the edge of her saree’s pleat, glided upward, caressing the second fold before reaching the first, just below her blouse, then slid back down. After teasing her like this for a moment, they moved straight from the third fold toward the depths of her saree. Confirming she was still asleep, Angith summoned a flicker of courage and placed all five fingers flat against her stomach, guiding them toward her navel. As his fingers gently roamed her belly, his middle finger was the first to touch her navel, and he felt his body shudder. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he let his middle finger—hidden beneath her saree—trace the rim of her navel in slow circles.
After circling her navel for a while, his middle finger slipped gently inside it. His trembling intensified. He then placed his thumb on the upper edge of her navel, using it to stroke the top while his middle finger probed within. After a moment, he lowered his thumb inside her navel and slid his middle finger downward, caressing the lower part of it. Just then, the stout woman sleeping beside Vanitha stirred clumsily, bumping into her. Vanitha woke with a start, her eyes fluttering open in a half-daze.
Still groggy, Vanitha sensed something shifting in her body. Then she realized Angith’s hand was stroking her navel, and shock jolted her awake. She instinctively wanted to slap his hand away, but in that split second, she felt her body reveling in the pleasure of his touch. Her mind screamed that letting him continue was a betrayal of her marriage, yet her body refused to heed the warning. In the battle between mind and flesh, her body won. Pretending to still be asleep, she silently permitted Angith’s caresses without him knowing.
His middle finger, which had been stroking the lower part of her navel, slid upward, dipping back inside and circling its inner walls. His cock now stood fully erect, straining against the fabric of his pants. After a while, he withdrew his finger from her navel and placed his entire palm flat against her midriff, rubbing it slowly. Vanitha marveled inwardly at his boldness and the tenderness of his touch.
His hand began to creep upward from her belly. Her mind blared a warning—“If you don’t stop this now, it’s a betrayal of Vinith”—but his fingers had already reached the upper curve of her left breast over her blouse. When his hand brushed her breast, Vanitha felt her nipples harden, pressing against her bra.
Angith’s hand started circling her breast slowly. After a few moments, he slid it to the underside, using his index finger to stroke her nipple up and down through the fabric. The sensation sent shivers through her, and she felt wetness seep into her pussy. His index finger, now teasing her nipple outside the blouse, joined his thumb to grip it fully, twisting it gently as if to knead it. The motion overwhelmed her senses, leaving her reeling. She ached to press his hand harder against her breast, but her mind flashed to her marriage, forcing her to steady herself.
After playing with her nipple for a while, his hand drifted back down to rub her belly. Suddenly, the stout woman jolted awake, brushing heavily against Vanitha as she rose to head to the bathroom. Startled, Angith yanked his hand from beneath Vanitha’s saree and rested it in his lap. Realizing she could no longer feign sleep, Vanitha slowly lifted her head from his shoulder, acting as if she’d just woken up. They exchanged smiles, but this time, both carried a hint of awkwardness.
Soon, the stout woman returned from the bathroom and settled back into her seat. Vanitha rose gently, giving Angith—whose hands had been roaming her belly—a chance to feast his eyes on her as she walked to the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door, lifted her saree to her waist, and slid her panties down to her knees before sitting on the Western toilet. As she sat, she ran her left hand over her pussy, feeling the slickness from Angith’s touch. The realization that she’d not only allowed another man’s caress but had enjoyed it filled her with self-loathing. She resolved firmly that this must never happen again—and if it did, she’d stop it immediately. After relieving herself, she stood, adjusted her clothes, washed her face, wiped it dry, and returned to her seat.
Angith, who had been facing the window, turned to her as she sat. "Good nap, huh?" he asked. "Mm," she murmured, unwilling to engage further. She grabbed a magazine from the seat pocket and started reading. Angith, acting as if nothing had happened, picked up his own magazine and began to read, though a faint tremor of fear lingered in his mind.
Five minutes later, an announcement declared the plane would land soon. They set their magazines down and sat up straighter, preparing to disembark. Exactly five minutes later, the plane touched down at Delhi airport. They exited, collected their luggage, and made their way to the terminal entrance. A driver sent for them stood there, holding a sign with their names. They approached him with a polite smile, handed over their bags, and followed him to the car, where they climbed in and settled down.
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