27-06-2025, 12:22 PM
Abhi’s chest tightened as he took her hand
His fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin of her palm.
The touch felt like everything, tender, yet full of promise.
He turned back to the sink, adjusting the temperature of the water until it was just right,
The warm flow creating gentle ripples against the porcelain.
He held her hand under the stream, the water running softly over her fingers.
Gently, he squeezed a dollop of soap into his palm, his hands beginning to lather as the foam built up.
As he worked the soap between his hands, he slowly started to move over her fingers
The lather thickening with each motion.
He could feel the subtle curve of her palm, the gentle lines of her fingers, and the delicate skin of her wrist.
Madhavi’s breath caught just slightly,
Her body leaning into the touch
Her eyes closing as if she was lost in the simple act of his hands on hers.
Abhi worked slowly, with care, focusing on each individual finger as he ran his soapy hands over them.
Feeling the silky smoothness of her skin.
He wanted to memorize every inch of her, each curve, each soft contour—as he gently massaged the soap into her skin.
He let his fingers linger longer than necessary, the soap making everything feel warmer, more intimate.
His hands moved with purpose, slow and deliberate, as he traced the lines of her hand, the palm, the soft webbing between her fingers.
There was a softness in his touch, as if he were handling something fragile, something precious.
He noticed the faint tremble in her fingers, the way she held her breath every time he moved over a new spot,
It sent a shiver through him.
His fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin of her palm.
The touch felt like everything, tender, yet full of promise.
He turned back to the sink, adjusting the temperature of the water until it was just right,
The warm flow creating gentle ripples against the porcelain.
He held her hand under the stream, the water running softly over her fingers.
Gently, he squeezed a dollop of soap into his palm, his hands beginning to lather as the foam built up.
As he worked the soap between his hands, he slowly started to move over her fingers
The lather thickening with each motion.
He could feel the subtle curve of her palm, the gentle lines of her fingers, and the delicate skin of her wrist.
Madhavi’s breath caught just slightly,
Her body leaning into the touch
Her eyes closing as if she was lost in the simple act of his hands on hers.
Abhi worked slowly, with care, focusing on each individual finger as he ran his soapy hands over them.
Feeling the silky smoothness of her skin.
He wanted to memorize every inch of her, each curve, each soft contour—as he gently massaged the soap into her skin.
He let his fingers linger longer than necessary, the soap making everything feel warmer, more intimate.
His hands moved with purpose, slow and deliberate, as he traced the lines of her hand, the palm, the soft webbing between her fingers.
There was a softness in his touch, as if he were handling something fragile, something precious.
He noticed the faint tremble in her fingers, the way she held her breath every time he moved over a new spot,
It sent a shiver through him.
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