27-04-2025, 03:05 AM
Episode 32: Dream That Left Its Mark
The night was heavy with warmth.
Arjun tossed in bed, caught between sleep and something else—something deeper.
When the dream came, it didn't ask permission.
It simply took over.
---
The Dream
The light in the room was soft—almost golden—turning everything into a slow, warm haze.
Meera stood still, wrapped in the soft folds of her pink saree, her sleeveless blouse revealing the clean lines of her arms and shoulders. Her hair tumbled loosely down her back.
Priya was standing right in front of her now, closer than breath, her hands lightly resting on Meera’s hips.
Their eyes met—quiet, sure, without words.
Priya moved first.
She leaned forward, pressing a soft, reverent kiss onto Meera’s bare shoulder.
Meera inhaled sharply—not in surprise, but in something deeper—something that made her eyes flutter closed for a moment.
Priya’s hands slid upward along Meera’s arms, trailing over her skin with featherlight touches, until she reached Meera’s wrists.
Slowly, she lifted Meera’s arms, guiding them to rest around Priya’s own shoulders, bringing their bodies closer.
Then, with aching patience, Priya tilted her head and pressed her lips gently to the inside of Meera’s upper arm, just at the curve where arm met body—the soft, untouched skin hidden from the world.
Meera shivered.
A full-body tremor, small and uncontrollable, ran through her—born not of fear, but of the overwhelming intimacy of the touch.
Her breathing deepened, and a soft, helpless sound escaped her lips, low and almost involuntary.
Priya smiled against her skin—then moved lower.
Her mouth trailed slow, deliberate kisses down Meera’s side, following the curve of her ribs, tracing the edge where saree met bare skin.
And finally—softly, almost reverently—Priya kissed her waist, right at the dip where fabric began.
Meera’s fingers tightened slightly on Priya’s shoulders.
The air between them thickened. Heavy. Electric.
Arjun could only watch—aching.
Frozen.
Desperate to step forward, but utterly helpless to move.
The beauty of the moment wasn’t in hunger—it was in surrender.
In the way Meera gave herself to the touch.
In the way Priya touched her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
---
The Wake-Up
Arjun woke up gasping.
Breathless.
Sheets tangled around his legs.
Chest pounding.
And evidence of his release dampening his clothes.
He pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to steady himself, but the images—the feeling—lingered, vivid and raw.
It hadn't been just a dream.
It had felt real.
Too real.
The sound of Meera’s soft gasp.
The way Priya’s lips had traced along her body.
The way Meera didn’t resist—but melted into it.
He lay there for a long moment, heart slowing, but his mind refusing to forget.
> It’s not just in my head anymore, he thought.
This… whatever it is between them... it’s alive.
And now, he would have to carry it into the day.
---
At college – In the Classroom
When Arjun entered the classroom, Meera was already there.
She wore a simple green saree today, with sleeves down to her elbows, hair neatly tied back.
Everything about her said professional, composed.
But to Arjun—she glowed differently now.
His eyes followed every subtle move she made. The way her fingers curled around the chalk. The way the pleats of her saree swayed as she walked across the room.
He knew it was wrong.
Knew he couldn’t stare.
But he couldn’t stop.
The dream had woven itself into her real presence.
Now every glance, every movement, every breath she took near him was haunted by what he had seen—what he had imagined.
She paused mid-lecture, turning to adjust the chalkboard.
Her hair shifted slightly over her shoulder.
And for a second, the scent of her drifted toward him again—clean, warm, unmistakably her.
Arjun swallowed hard, his throat dry.
He dropped his gaze to his notebook, pretending to write, but his hand shook slightly.
He had crossed a line now—at least in his mind.
And there was no going back.
---
To be continued…
The night was heavy with warmth.
Arjun tossed in bed, caught between sleep and something else—something deeper.
When the dream came, it didn't ask permission.
It simply took over.
---
The Dream
The light in the room was soft—almost golden—turning everything into a slow, warm haze.
Meera stood still, wrapped in the soft folds of her pink saree, her sleeveless blouse revealing the clean lines of her arms and shoulders. Her hair tumbled loosely down her back.
Priya was standing right in front of her now, closer than breath, her hands lightly resting on Meera’s hips.
Their eyes met—quiet, sure, without words.
Priya moved first.
She leaned forward, pressing a soft, reverent kiss onto Meera’s bare shoulder.
Meera inhaled sharply—not in surprise, but in something deeper—something that made her eyes flutter closed for a moment.
Priya’s hands slid upward along Meera’s arms, trailing over her skin with featherlight touches, until she reached Meera’s wrists.
Slowly, she lifted Meera’s arms, guiding them to rest around Priya’s own shoulders, bringing their bodies closer.
Then, with aching patience, Priya tilted her head and pressed her lips gently to the inside of Meera’s upper arm, just at the curve where arm met body—the soft, untouched skin hidden from the world.
Meera shivered.
A full-body tremor, small and uncontrollable, ran through her—born not of fear, but of the overwhelming intimacy of the touch.
Her breathing deepened, and a soft, helpless sound escaped her lips, low and almost involuntary.
Priya smiled against her skin—then moved lower.
Her mouth trailed slow, deliberate kisses down Meera’s side, following the curve of her ribs, tracing the edge where saree met bare skin.
And finally—softly, almost reverently—Priya kissed her waist, right at the dip where fabric began.
Meera’s fingers tightened slightly on Priya’s shoulders.
The air between them thickened. Heavy. Electric.
Arjun could only watch—aching.
Frozen.
Desperate to step forward, but utterly helpless to move.
The beauty of the moment wasn’t in hunger—it was in surrender.
In the way Meera gave herself to the touch.
In the way Priya touched her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
---
The Wake-Up
Arjun woke up gasping.
Breathless.
Sheets tangled around his legs.
Chest pounding.
And evidence of his release dampening his clothes.
He pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to steady himself, but the images—the feeling—lingered, vivid and raw.
It hadn't been just a dream.
It had felt real.
Too real.
The sound of Meera’s soft gasp.
The way Priya’s lips had traced along her body.
The way Meera didn’t resist—but melted into it.
He lay there for a long moment, heart slowing, but his mind refusing to forget.
> It’s not just in my head anymore, he thought.
This… whatever it is between them... it’s alive.
And now, he would have to carry it into the day.
---
At college – In the Classroom
When Arjun entered the classroom, Meera was already there.
She wore a simple green saree today, with sleeves down to her elbows, hair neatly tied back.
Everything about her said professional, composed.
But to Arjun—she glowed differently now.
His eyes followed every subtle move she made. The way her fingers curled around the chalk. The way the pleats of her saree swayed as she walked across the room.
He knew it was wrong.
Knew he couldn’t stare.
But he couldn’t stop.
The dream had woven itself into her real presence.
Now every glance, every movement, every breath she took near him was haunted by what he had seen—what he had imagined.
She paused mid-lecture, turning to adjust the chalkboard.
Her hair shifted slightly over her shoulder.
And for a second, the scent of her drifted toward him again—clean, warm, unmistakably her.
Arjun swallowed hard, his throat dry.
He dropped his gaze to his notebook, pretending to write, but his hand shook slightly.
He had crossed a line now—at least in his mind.
And there was no going back.
---
To be continued…
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