Adultery Antarvasana: The Forbidden Fire – *** Varnika's First Surrender ***

[shailu4ever]

Chapter - I

Tuesday Morning – A Quiet Room, a Bold Beginning

The clock had just touched 6:30. The soft drizzle outside whispered against the windowpanes, casting a delicate, silvery light across the living room floor. 

The scent of incense lingered faintly, calm, grounding, but there was something else in the air too. Something electric.

Abhi stood at the door of Flat 403, trying to steady his breath. He hadn’t expected this message the night before.

“If you’re up for it, we can do a short session tomorrow morning. Indoors. Just for a few days while the rain is playing games."
—Meghana

Just one message. No emojis. But it had kept him awake for hours.

She opened the door without a word, wearing a soft smile—and something much bolder than he expected. Meghana stood barefoot in a charcoal grey sports bra, the hem ending just under her chest, her toned stomach firm and warm in the pale morning light. Her leggings were deep teal—sleek, sculpted—and he noticed how the high waistband hugged her waist, revealing every graceful curve without apology.

Her hair was tied back, but loosely. 

A few strands curled against her cheek and neck. Her skin glowed, not with makeup or effort, but something deeper. 

A soft, natural heat. Maybe it was the anticipation.

"Come in," she said gently, stepping aside. 

Her voice was calm. 

But even that calmness carried a hum beneath it.



Abhi stepped in. He had been in her house before—Just the day before night dinner—but today felt different. 

The lights were dim. 

The misty morning filtered through the sheer curtains, turning everything soft, quiet, almost sacred.

Two yoga mats lay side by side on the floor, with a towel folded neatly at one end. 

A small copper water jug stood nearby. The air smelled of vetiver and monsoon.


“You remember the flow?” she asked softly, glancing at him over her shoulder.

He nodded. 

But his voice didn’t come. Not yet.

She sat on the mat, stretching her legs out, leaning back slightly on her hands.

That simple stretch pulled her chest forward just a bit, her collarbones sharp and glowing in the faint light.

He sat down beside her. 

Close.

Not too close. 

But close enough for his eyes to flicker down—to the line of her waist, the shape of her ribs just under skin, the soft breath rising and falling.

And then she smiled. 

Not flirtatiously. 

Not teasingly. 

But knowingly. As if this wasn’t a new beginning—but a continuation.

"Let’s just start slow," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Surya Namaskar. Two rounds. Then we’ll move to partners."

Abhi nodded, finally finding his breath.

But his mind?


It was already somewhere else.


On how this wasn’t just yoga anymore.


It was a slow unraveling.

---