Adultery A SOUTH INDIAN WIFE'S -Unspoken Flames

[thirddemodreamer]

Angith moved closer, taking her right hand in his left and patting it gently as he spoke. "Come on, Vanitha, crying like a kid over this? Look at what a huge achievement you’ve just pulled off, and you’re sitting here homesick!" His unexpected touch startled her briefly, but needing comfort, she let it slide. "It’s not that. Whenever there’s news, Vinith’s the first I tell. But his phone’s been off for so long, and that’s why…" "Cool down! Once we’re at the hotel, he’ll call you himself, you’ll see," Angith reassured her, still patting her hand. She felt a bit better.

For some reason, Vanitha felt an urge to lean on Angith’s shoulder for support. Without thinking, she rested her head there. Wanting to comfort her, Angith slid his right hand up from her hand, gripping her arm just above where her blouse met her skin. They rode like that for a while, her soft arm stirring a quiet thrill in him. Then he noticed the back of his right hand brushing against her right breast. Lust sparked within him again.
Summoning courage, he spread his fingers, pressing them over her right breast through her blouse and saree, deliberately enough for her to feel it. Vanitha jolted, staring at him in the car’s dimness. He feigned ignorance, but she thought, Did he misread my leaning on him for comfort? As she hesitated, Angith increased the pressure on her breast. Losing control, she sank back onto his shoulder.
Thrilled by her tacit permission, Angith gripped her breast fully, squeezing it with his hand. After kneading it for a moment, he slid his fingers to her nipple, stroking it gently. Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes, and Vanitha snapped upright, pulling away. Angith withdrew his hand to his lap, and they scooted apart. The driver cursed in Hindi at someone crossing the road, then resumed driving, chatting again with the front passenger. The middle-row sleepers didn’t even stir.
The car inched along. Angith slid closer to Vanitha again. Sensing what might come next, she resolved to stop him this time, but before she could act, he slipped his right hand past her lap and under her saree. She grabbed his wrist, turning to him with a look that said, No. He countered with a pleading Please, and, overriding her grip, pressed his palm against her belly.
Unable to resist further, Vanitha let her hand fall back to her lap. Angith moved his hand across her stomach, rubbing it fully. After a while, he positioned it on her midriff, his middle finger touching her navel, then slid it deep inside. When he pressed too hard, she sucked in her stomach to ease the pressure. Realizing his force, he softened his touch, stroking her navel up and down, dipping in again to circle it slowly.
He could feel her body trembling slightly, spurring him on. His hand crept upward, this time cupping her left breast and squeezing it firmly. His fingers then traced her left nipple over her bra and blouse, stroking it. Vanitha felt wetness pooling in her pussy. Her mind ached at letting another man touch her, but the pleasure her body craved drowned it out.
As he teased her nipple, she sensed his hand trembling. It moved to her right breast again, kneading it before sliding back to her belly. He slipped his index finger into her navel, using his thumb to grip it from above, stroking briefly before lowering his hand. His fingers hit the edge of her saree’s pleat and stopped. Vanitha wondered what he’d do if she let him go further, while Angith struggled to push past the fabric.
After failing to breach her saree’s pleat, he pondered his next move. Vanitha assumed he’d stop there, but then he pressed his index finger hard into her navel. As she sucked in her stomach, the pleat loosened, and three of his fingers darted inside. Realizing she couldn’t stop him now, she kept her gaze fixed out the window, surrendering to his touch. His fingers reached her pussy over her panties, and her body quaked. She worried what he’d think if he felt how wet she was, but he began rubbing her gently.
Feeling the dampness through her panties, Angith grew excited knowing his touch had aroused her so much. He dragged his middle finger along her slit, but the saree’s pleat blocked him from going further than halfway. Accepting he couldn’t push deeper, he kept stroking her partially. As the car entered their hotel gate, he pulled his hand away with a pang of disappointment and slid apart from her.
Vanitha adjusted herself, glancing at him casually. She noticed his erection bulging against his pants but turned her eyes back to the window, ignoring it. When the car stopped at the hotel entrance, everyone got out and headed to their rooms. The other three men’s rooms were on the ground floor, so only Vanitha and Angith took the elevator up in silence to their suite.
 
 
 
As Angith opened the door, Vanitha darted inside, avoiding his gaze, and hurried to her room, shutting the door behind her. Angith locked the hall door and went to his own room. Inside hers, Vanitha tossed her handbag onto the table opposite the bed and sat on the edge, pressing her hands to either side of her forehead.
Her mind churned: Why did I act like this? Isn’t this a betrayal of my husband? Even if my body enjoyed it, shouldn’t my mind have stopped it? I’m a mother of two, yet I let myself get swept away like some teenage girl—doesn’t that tarnish the sanctity of my motherhood? As guilt and confusion swirled, her phone rang.