Adultery The Untold Story of Abhiram's Erotic Journey - Part 1

[tweeny_fory]

The small space between their bodies shrinking as the bus jolted over a pothole. His arm shifted instinctively, and for a brief, electric moment, his hand brushed against the smooth, warm skin of Madhavi’s waist—bare just below the edge of her blouse where the saree’s pallu had slipped slightly.

Time seemed to slow. Abhi froze, heart pounding, unsure whether to pull back or linger just a fraction longer. The softness beneath his fingers was undeniable—the subtle curve of her waist revealed a skin glowing with golden warmth, untouched and silky.

Madhavi’s breath caught softly, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, her hand moved lightly to rest near his, a quiet invitation wrapped in the warmth of the moment. Her eyes met his, dark and steady, with a flicker of something tender and unspoken.

Abhi swallowed hard, the rush of heat flooding his cheeks. His fingers twitched but remained still, afraid to break the fragile connection.

The bus jerked again, and their hands parted almost reluctantly. Madhavi adjusted her saree with a gentle grace, the fabric sliding back into place as if nothing had happened. Yet the electric charge between them remained — a silent promise hanging in the air.

Neither spoke for a moment, but the unspoken language of that fleeting touch lingered deeply, weaving a thread of anticipation neither could ignore.

The warmth of her waist still lingered on his fingertips, like a secret etched into his skin. Abhi sat still, eyes fixed forward, but inside his mind, everything was in motion—spinning, burning, alive with what had just happened. He slowly palmed her waist and his fingers moved along her bare skin sending electric waves to both of them

She didn’t move away.

She let it happen.

She felt it too.

His thoughts replayed the moment with hungry precision—the softness of her bare skin under his fingers, the gentle inward curve of her waist, where blouse ended and saree dipped low enough to reveal a narrow band of golden flesh. That skin had felt impossibly smooth, warm, and almost too perfect to be real.


His eyes drifted down, openly now, but through flickering glances. The blouse she wore, though simple and elegant, hugged her body in all the right ways. Her breasts, full and mature, filled the fabric with graceful volume, and the neckline dipped just low enough to offer fleeting glimpses of the shadowed valley between them. Not too open—she wasn’t careless—but the kind of woman who knew her beauty and let it speak without words.

She knows what he’s doing.

She must’ve caught me looking. Maybe she wanted me to.

He remembered her smile—that calm, almost teasing curve of her lips when she caught him staring earlier. Not offended. Not cold. Just… aware. It had felt like she had reached across the space between them and touched him, not with hands, but with that subtle power only women like her possess.

Her posture was relaxed but composed, back straight, shoulders drawn slightly back, letting the blouse stretch lightly across her chest. The way her saree wrapped her lower body made her curves look even more alluring—soft, round hips that swayed gently with each movement of the bus, and thighs hidden beneath layers of fabric, yet unmistakably full and womanly.

The chain around her neck rested between her breasts, occasionally swaying with the motion of the ride. It drew his eyes again and again to that forbidden spot—where the blouse dipped, where skin glowed.

And then there was her scent. Even now, as the bus crowded more and strangers pressed in, that warm mix of jasmine and something deeper—sandalwood, maybe—clung to her like a second skin. Every breath he took pulled more of her into his lungs, filling his senses.

Abhi tried to keep his hands still, his body calm, but his heart was anything but. Every accidental brush of her arm, every sigh she let out, every shift in her seat made his body ache with anticipation.

He wasn’t sure what this was yet. But he was certain of one thing: this woman—Madhavi—was beginning to take over his thoughts in ways he hadn’t imagined. Slowly. Deeply. Seductively.

And she wasn’t stopping him.

Abhi’s fingers still tingled from the brief brush against Madhavi’s bare waist, the memory alive in his mind like a whispered secret. He caught her eyes once again, those deep, knowing pools reflecting a calm strength, yet flickering with something softer—an invitation wrapped in caution.

Madhavi’s breath came slowly, steadying herself. She adjusted the pallu of her saree with deliberate grace, the fabric sliding over her hips, the movement sending a subtle wave of warmth that Abhi could feel more than see. Her skin gleamed softly, a warm golden hue that seemed to glow even in the dim light.

The space between them felt smaller with every passing moment. Neither spoke, but the silence was heavy with unspoken words.

The bus neared their stop. His heart raced as they prepared to leave this charged cocoon. She turned slightly to face him, just enough to catch the curve of her neck and the soft swell of her breast beneath the delicate blouse.

As the bus slowed and he stood, their hands brushed lightly — a fleeting contact, electric and lingering. Madhavi didn’t pull away immediately, letting the moment stretch a heartbeat longer.

They got down the bus and walk silently towards their houses. When they reach

“Abhi,” she said softly, her voice low and intimate, “take care.”

Her words were simple, but the warmth behind them wrapped around him like a caress.

He nodded, feeling the weight of the moment press down on his chest.

Then, with a gentle smile, she stepped into her apartment. Abhi watched go into her home, the subtle sway of her hips beneath the saree imprinting itself on his mind.

As the doors closed — but inside, Abhi’s thoughts were quiet, filled with the memory of warmth, skin, and the promise of something just beginning.



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Wow Shailu, those bus ride between Abhi and Madhavi were erotically detailed and captivating! The way you narrated the feelings and emotions of each character truly showcases the maturity of your imagination and writing skills. The subtle imitations and unspoken desires came alive on the story. 

It's especially interesting to see how the tension built throughout such a short encounter. And at the end, when Madhavi said "Take care," I'm left wondering about its true meaning. Was it just a casual, polite goodbye, or was there a deeper intention behind it? Is she hinting at a desire for more, or simply acknowledging the connection they shared in that moment? 

It leaves the readers wanting to know what happens next.