13-06-2025, 04:47 PM
Day Three – Partner Poses and Closer Spaces
The air was already warm when Abhi stepped onto the terrace, a fine layer of early sun brushing the edge of the concrete. The quiet of the morning gave everything a heightened clarity—the way the city yawned below, the breeze lifting his shirt slightly, and the figure already stretching on the far side of the terrace.
Meghana.
Today, she wore a dark wine-colored sports bra that clung snugly to her torso, the fabric stopping just under her chest, showcasing her strong chest muscles as they bulge against the fabric. Her leggings, deep charcoal and smooth as silk, sat low on her hips—way below the navel, revealing a generous stretch of her sculpted belly.
Every motion she made rippled lightly through the flat plane of her stomach.
Her navel, a tiny indentation in the middle of her stomach, lies slightly below the level of her hips.
It's a natural beauty mark that highlights her midriff.
The dark color of her sports bra emphasizes Meghana's skin seem even more ivory white.
Her smooth torso extends down to her waist, which is slender yet strong enough to support her movements.
The smooth fabric clings to her skin, outlining each muscle as if it was made for this dress.
And Abhi couldn’t not look.
The soft dip of her navel, the subtle definition of muscle under satin skin—it was distracting, magnetic and alive. She moved like someone who had long since made peace with her own beauty.
She turned toward him,
catching his gaze—“again”—and offered the kind of smile that didn’t apologize for being seen.
Their didn't look away for a few moments.
“You ready?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I think so.”
“You think?” She walked over, barefoot and smooth.
“Today’s about trust. I’ll hold you. You’ll hold me.”
Abhi’s pulse quickened.
“Try not to drop me,” she added, teasing. “Or yourself.”
---
The air was already warm when Abhi stepped onto the terrace, a fine layer of early sun brushing the edge of the concrete. The quiet of the morning gave everything a heightened clarity—the way the city yawned below, the breeze lifting his shirt slightly, and the figure already stretching on the far side of the terrace.
Meghana.
Today, she wore a dark wine-colored sports bra that clung snugly to her torso, the fabric stopping just under her chest, showcasing her strong chest muscles as they bulge against the fabric. Her leggings, deep charcoal and smooth as silk, sat low on her hips—way below the navel, revealing a generous stretch of her sculpted belly.
Every motion she made rippled lightly through the flat plane of her stomach.
Her navel, a tiny indentation in the middle of her stomach, lies slightly below the level of her hips.
It's a natural beauty mark that highlights her midriff.
The dark color of her sports bra emphasizes Meghana's skin seem even more ivory white.
Her smooth torso extends down to her waist, which is slender yet strong enough to support her movements.
The smooth fabric clings to her skin, outlining each muscle as if it was made for this dress.
And Abhi couldn’t not look.
The soft dip of her navel, the subtle definition of muscle under satin skin—it was distracting, magnetic and alive. She moved like someone who had long since made peace with her own beauty.
She turned toward him,
catching his gaze—“again”—and offered the kind of smile that didn’t apologize for being seen.
Their didn't look away for a few moments.
“You ready?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I think so.”
“You think?” She walked over, barefoot and smooth.
“Today’s about trust. I’ll hold you. You’ll hold me.”
Abhi’s pulse quickened.
“Try not to drop me,” she added, teasing. “Or yourself.”
---
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