27-06-2025, 05:11 PM
Removing of the first piece of clothing (Saree) off her body
Abhi’s hands rested gently on the fabric of her saree
The soft material still clinging to her form, but his touch was both firm and tender.
His fingers traced the delicate edges of the fabric, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath
The anticipation building with each movement.
He could sense the tension in her body, could feel her pulse quicken under his fingertips.
But neither of them rushed—each touch, each movement, was a deliberate act of intimacy.
Madhavi’s breath hitched as he slowly began to pull at the saree.
He pulled her pallu off her sholders exposing her blouse fighting to hold her full breasts.
The fabric slipping just a little as his hands gently lifted it at the waist.
The sensation was electric, the fabric soft and smooth, but still a barrier between them.
With a quiet reverence, Abhi let the material fall just slightly, exposing the soft curve of her hip.
His hands lingered there for a moment, his fingers brushing the warm skin just beneath the fabric, savoring the contact before continuing.
Madhavi’s body trembled ever so slightly under his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she shifted closer, urging him on, her fingers brushing through his hair,
silently asking for more, but letting him take the lead.
Her body was on fire, aching for more of him.
The way each layer of fabric revealed another part of her.
His hands slid lower, the saree now starting to pool around her hips.
The fabric was gentle, but with each movement, it seemed to hold on, teasing them both with its refusal to let go.
His fingers traced the waistband of the saree,
dipping just beneath it, and with a soft sigh
He pulled the fabric free
Abhi’s hands rested gently on the fabric of her saree
The soft material still clinging to her form, but his touch was both firm and tender.
His fingers traced the delicate edges of the fabric, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath
The anticipation building with each movement.
He could sense the tension in her body, could feel her pulse quicken under his fingertips.
But neither of them rushed—each touch, each movement, was a deliberate act of intimacy.
Madhavi’s breath hitched as he slowly began to pull at the saree.
He pulled her pallu off her sholders exposing her blouse fighting to hold her full breasts.
The fabric slipping just a little as his hands gently lifted it at the waist.
The sensation was electric, the fabric soft and smooth, but still a barrier between them.
With a quiet reverence, Abhi let the material fall just slightly, exposing the soft curve of her hip.
His hands lingered there for a moment, his fingers brushing the warm skin just beneath the fabric, savoring the contact before continuing.
Madhavi’s body trembled ever so slightly under his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she shifted closer, urging him on, her fingers brushing through his hair,
silently asking for more, but letting him take the lead.
Her body was on fire, aching for more of him.
The way each layer of fabric revealed another part of her.
His hands slid lower, the saree now starting to pool around her hips.
The fabric was gentle, but with each movement, it seemed to hold on, teasing them both with its refusal to let go.
His fingers traced the waistband of the saree,
dipping just beneath it, and with a soft sigh
He pulled the fabric free
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