16-06-2025, 03:32 AM
The Return Drive
The evening air had thickened by the time they left the function.
Distant thunder rolled low in the horizon, and the sky was veiled in the silvery haze of an approaching drizzle.
Abhi adjusted the rearview mirror and eased the car into traffic as streetlights blinked into life, smearing orange streaks across the windshield.
Madhavi sat beside him, her expression softened, lips curved in a quiet smile.
The saree she wore shimmered like wet rose petals, the silk catching occasional flashes of light.
Her sleeveless blouse hugged her frame with a gentle elegance, and the pallu, already loosely dbangd earlier, now looked barely anchored on her shoulder, exposing the right side of her blouse.
The right side of her blouse is visible, struggling to hold her curvaceous and firm breasts
The air inside the car was warm, close.
“It was a nice function,” she said, watching the city pass them by. “You were a bit of a celebrity there.”
Abhi smiled. “Only because I was one of the three men among thirty women.”
She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Not just that. You stood out. You always do.”
The rain began then — soft, playful — drumming lightly on the car’s roof, streaking the windows in slender rivulets.
It blurred the world outside, cocooning them in a little glowing bubble of sound and breath and presence.
As they slowed down near a signal, her fingers brushed the edge of her saree at her lap, adjusting it absently.
The movement brought her hand near the gear stick — close to his.
There was a silence.
Electric.
Open.
Abhi looked at her.
Then, gently — without speaking — he placed his hand over hers.
The evening air had thickened by the time they left the function.
Distant thunder rolled low in the horizon, and the sky was veiled in the silvery haze of an approaching drizzle.
Abhi adjusted the rearview mirror and eased the car into traffic as streetlights blinked into life, smearing orange streaks across the windshield.
Madhavi sat beside him, her expression softened, lips curved in a quiet smile.
The saree she wore shimmered like wet rose petals, the silk catching occasional flashes of light.
Her sleeveless blouse hugged her frame with a gentle elegance, and the pallu, already loosely dbangd earlier, now looked barely anchored on her shoulder, exposing the right side of her blouse.
The right side of her blouse is visible, struggling to hold her curvaceous and firm breasts
The air inside the car was warm, close.
“It was a nice function,” she said, watching the city pass them by. “You were a bit of a celebrity there.”
Abhi smiled. “Only because I was one of the three men among thirty women.”
She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Not just that. You stood out. You always do.”
The rain began then — soft, playful — drumming lightly on the car’s roof, streaking the windows in slender rivulets.
It blurred the world outside, cocooning them in a little glowing bubble of sound and breath and presence.
As they slowed down near a signal, her fingers brushed the edge of her saree at her lap, adjusting it absently.
The movement brought her hand near the gear stick — close to his.
There was a silence.
Electric.
Open.
Abhi looked at her.
Then, gently — without speaking — he placed his hand over hers.
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