01-07-2025, 05:57 AM
Episode 50: The Fever of Desire
Monday’s sultry warmth enveloped St. Mark’s, the air thick with rainclouds and the electric undercurrent of unspoken desires. Meera’s pink saree and deep-back blouse had set the morning ablaze, Priya’s lustful gaze and Arjun’s fixation on her waist leaving her skin tingling with a dangerous thrill.
The poems from last week—Arjun’s fervent words about her navel, ass, and armpit—still echoed in her mind, mingling with the morning’s intensity: Priya’s bold compliments, Arjun’s statue-like stare as the breeze teased her pallu, revealing her navel. Meera moved through her classes, her composure a fragile shield, her body alive with sensation—her waist sensitive, her navel tingling, her spine warm where the blouse bared it. The pink silk clung to her curves, its vibrant hue glowing in the soft light, the sleeveless blouse accentuating her toned arms, the deep back revealing the smooth, elegant curve of her spine.
Her loose bun, with strands brushing her neck, carried her jasmine scent, a subtle tease that lingered in every room.Arjun, meanwhile, carried the secret photo in his pocket, a forbidden treasure burning to be seen. The image of Meera’s swaying ass and deep-back blouse consumed him, his excitement a constant pulse, his body tense with anticipation. The poems, the falls photo, the morning’s glimpse of her navel—they fueled his obsession, and the new photo was a spark waiting to ignite.
The Elusive Moment – Arjun’s Burning Anticipation
Arjun sat through his morning classes, his mind far from the lessons. His phone, tucked in his pocket, was a heavy weight, the photo of Meera’s back and ass a promise he couldn’t yet claim. His heart raced with every thought of her—her pink saree clinging to her curves, her spine’s elegant curve, her ass swaying in the corridor. During the morning interval, he sought solitude, slipping toward a quiet corner near the library, his fingers itching to open the photo. But his friends intercepted him, pulling him into a lively game of cards under the courtyard’s banyan tree, their laughter and banter drowning his frustration. “Come on, Arjun, don’t zone out!” they teased, oblivious to the fire in his mind. He forced a smile, his thoughts on Meera’s curves, the anticipation gnawing at him.
At lunch break, he tried again, stealing away to a secluded stairwell, the air cool and dim, perfect for privacy. His hand hovered over his phone, but footsteps echoed—a teacher patrolling the corridors, her sharp voice calling out to lingering students. Arjun shoved the phone back, his pulse pounding, and rejoined his friends in the canteen, their chatter a blur against his growing need. The image of Meera’s ass, the silk’s cling, her spine’s glow, haunted him, his body tense, a heat spreading, his jeans tightening with every thought.
By the afternoon interval, his desperation was unbearable. The ten-minute break was his chance. He excused himself, claiming a need for the restroom, and hurried to the men’s bathroom at the end of the corridor, its tiled walls echoing faintly with the drip of a leaky faucet. In his haste, he pushed the door shut but didn’t notice the latch fail to catch, leaving it slightly ajar. Alone in a stall, he pulled out his phone, his hands trembling, his breath shallow. The screen glowed, revealing the photo—Meera’s deep-back blouse framing her spine’s smooth curve, the pink saree molding to her full, rounded ass, its sway frozen in a moment of hypnotic allure. The silk clung to her curves, accentuating every detail, the light catching the sheen of her skin, her back a vision of elegance, her ass a provocative tease.
Arjun’s mouth went dry, his body reacting fiercely, a heat surging through him, his jeans impossibly tight. “Sss… Meera ma’am, what a sexy back you have,” he whispered, his voice a low, fervent moan, thick with longing. He began stroking himself, his hand moving in rhythm with his racing pulse, his mind lost in the image—her ass swaying, her spine glowing, the poems he’d written, the dream where her skin trembled under his touch. The pleasure built, intense, consuming, his moans growing louder, “Meera… your back… your curves…” His body shuddered, and within moments, he released a huge load, the volume startling even him, a wave of relief washing over him as he leaned against the stall, gasping, his heart pounding.
The Unseen Witness – Meera’s Shock and Awe
Unbeknownst to Arjun, Meera had slipped into the adjacent women’s bathroom minutes earlier, needing a moment to cool the heat of the morning’s gazes. Her pink saree swayed as she adjusted her pallu, her fingers grazing her waist, the sensation sending a shiver through her, her navel tingling as if still exposed to Arjun’s stare. She splashed water on her face, the mirror reflecting her flushed cheeks, her loose bun slightly mussed, strands clinging to her neck. As she exited, her bangles clinking softly, she heard faint moans from the men’s bathroom, the door ajar, a sliver of light spilling out.
Curiosity, laced with unease, drew her closer, her heart quickening. She peeked through the gap, her breath catching in her throat.There was Arjun, his phone glowing, his hand moving rhythmically, his voice a low moan, “Sss… Meera ma’am, what a sexy back you have.” Meera’s eyes widened, shock crashing over her like a wave, followed by a strange, electric excitement. He was masturbating to a photo of her—her back, her ass, captured in the pink saree, the deep-back blouse. Her gaze darted to his arousal, bigger than she’d expected for his age, a detail that sent a jolt through her, her body responding unbidden. Her waist tingled, her navel sensitive, her spine warm as if his words caressed her. The sight was raw, forbidden, yet intoxicating, her skin flushing, goosebumps rising on her bare arms.
When Arjun released, the sheer volume of his load left her in awe, her breath shallow, her mind reeling. The intensity of his desire, so focused on her, was both unsettling and thrilling, a spark igniting a dangerous warmth within her. She stepped back quickly, her heart pounding, avoiding detection, and hurried toward the staff room, her pink saree swaying, her body trembling with a mix of shock, excitement, and unease. The realization hit her: he’d taken another photo, not the falls image of her waist and navel, but a new one, likely from today’s corridor, capturing her back and ass. The thought sent a shiver through her, her skin alive, her body betraying her with a tingling sensation she couldn’t ignore.
The Staff Room – Meera’s Trance of Thoughts
In the staff room, Meera stood by the window, the pink saree glowing in the soft light filtering through rainclouds, her sleeveless blouse baring her toned arms, the deep back revealing her spine’s elegant curve. The breeze from the open window teased her pallu, brushing her waist, amplifying the tingling sensation that hadn’t faded. The incident replayed in her mind—Arjun’s moans, his hand, the glowing phone, his whispered words, “What a sexy back.” She was in a trance, her thoughts a storm of conflicting emotions.Was he taking photos regularly, behind her back? The falls photo, her waist and navel, was one thing; the poems, with their fervent worship of her navel, ass, and armpit, another. But this new photo, of her back and ass, suggested a pattern—a secret collection of her beauty.
Had he taken it in the corridor, her ass swaying, her spine bared? Or was he capturing her daily, unnoticed, his obsession growing with each image? The thought was unsettling, yet the thrill of being so desired, so worshipped, sent a warmth through her, her navel tingling as if exposed, her spine alive where the blouse left it bare.Her mind lingered on Arjun’s arousal—bigger than she’d expected, a detail that shocked and fascinated her.
The sheer volume of his release, the intensity of his desire, was a testament to his fixation, a fire that consumed him. She wondered, unbidden, how it would feel to touch it, to be the object of such raw passion, the thought sending goosebumps across her arms, her breath deepening. She was an adult, a professional, bound by boundaries, yet the sight of him, lost in her image, had stirred something primal, a forbidden excitement that made her body hum. She pressed her hand to her waist, the spot sensitive, as if his gaze, his words, still lingered there.
The Heated Moment – Priya’s Intimacy
As Meera stood lost in her trance, Priya entered the staff room, her eyes lighting up at Meera’s radiant figure, the pink saree a beacon of allure. “Well, well, madam, lost in a daydream by the window?” she teased, her voice low and playful, stepping close behind Meera.
“Are you thinking about all the hearts you’re breaking today, or is it something more… specific?” Her tone was teasing but charged, her eyes tracing Meera’s bare arms, the curve of her back, a spark of admiration flickering.Meera turned slightly, her cheeks flushed, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Just catching my breath, Priya,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady, the morning’s intensity still coursing through her.
“It’s been a long day already.”Priya raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, her presence warm, intimate.
“Long day? You’re glowing like it’s your first. That saree, that blouse—you’re making it hard to focus on anything else.” Her voice dropped, a playful challenge in her words, her gaze lingering on Meera’s spine, the pink silk clinging to her curves.
Before Meera could respond, Priya’s fingers grazed her bare waist, a light, teasing touch that sent shivers through Meera’s body, already primed by her trance. Meera let out a soft, erotic moan, the sound involuntary, charged with the morning’s intensity.
Priya, sensing the moment’s heat, pressed closer, wrapping her arms around Meera from behind, her hands resting on Meera’s waist, gently tracing the smooth skin toward her stomach.The touch was electric, sending shivers through Meera’s already primed body, her breath hitching. Priya’s lips brushed Meera’s shoulder, planting soft, deliberate kisses, moving slowly toward her neck, each kiss a spark of heat.
Meera trembled, a soft, continuous moan escaping, her body alive, her waist tingling, her navel sensitive. She raised her hand, placing it on Priya’s head, her fingers tangling in her hair, her arm lifting to expose her armpit—smooth, sheened with warmth, a glowing hollow catching the light.Priya’s kisses deepened, her lips warm and teasing on Meera’s neck, her hands caressing Meera’s stomach, the touch intimate, almost possessive. Meera’s expressions were erotic, her eyes half-closed, her moans soft but persistent, “Mmm… Priya…” The moment was heated, a dance of desire, Priya’s touch amplifying the thrill of Arjun’s earlier act. Meera’s skin flushed, her spine warm, her body surrendering to the sensation, the morning’s intensity converging in this intimate embrace.
The Witness – Arjun’s Secret Record
Unbeknownst to them, Arjun approached the staff room, sent by his social studies teacher to retrieve a set of reference books. He stopped short at the doorway, his breath catching at the sight: Priya hugging Meera from behind, her hands caressing Meera’s waist and stomach, her lips kissing Meera’s shoulder, moving to her neck. Meera’s arm was raised, her armpit exposed, glowing in the soft light, its smooth curve a vision of allure.
Her expressions were intensely erotic, her soft moans—“Mmm… Priya…”—echoing, her pink saree swaying, the deep-back blouse revealing her spine. The scene was overwhelming, a sensual tableau that shook Arjun to his core.His body reacted fiercely, a heat surging through him, his jeans tightening, his heart pounding. The sight of Meera’s armpit, Priya’s kisses, the interplay of their bodies—it was more than his dreams, more than the poems, more than the photos. Driven by impulse, he pulled out his phone, his hands trembling, and began recording, capturing every detail: Meera’s exposed armpit, Priya’s lips on her neck, the pink saree’s cling, Meera’s moans.
The moment was a treasure, a forbidden vision that fueled his obsession, his excitement bordering on euphoria.As Priya’s hands moved to the saree pleats at Meera’s waist, her fingers brushing the fabric hiding her navel, poised to loosen it, the college bell rang loudly, its shrill tone shattering the moment. Meera and Priya snapped back to reality, their eyes meeting in an awkward, flushed glance.
Meera quickly adjusted her saree, her hands trembling slightly, her face warm as she moved to her desk to collect books for her next class. Priya, her own cheeks flushed, stepped outside for air, her heart racing, the intensity of the moment lingering. Arjun pocketed his phone, his excitement undimmed, and entered the staff room, pretending normalcy.Meera glanced up as he approached, their eyes meeting for a fleeting second, a spark of tension passing between them. She saw the flush in his cheeks, the intensity in his gaze, and wondered if he’d seen, if he knew. Arjun, retrieving the books, kept his expression neutral, but his mind was a storm, the recording a burning secret in his pocket. They both proceeded with their tasks, the air thick with unspoken desires, the weight of their shared moments hanging heavy.
The Math Class – A Tense Anticipation
An hour later, Meera entered the math classroom for her afternoon session, the pink saree radiant in the soft light filtering through the windows, its silk clinging to her curves, the low pleats accentuating her waist. Her sleeveless blouse bared her toned arms, the deep back a subtle tease, her loose bun swaying, strands brushing her neck. Her composure was intact, but her body carried the day’s weight—Arjun’s moans in the bathroom, the photo of her back, Priya’s kisses, the tingling sensation of their desires. Her waist and navel were sensitive, her spine warm, her armpit tingling as if still exposed. She began the lesson, her voice steady, explaining integrals, but her eyes flicked to Arjun, noting his tense posture, his fixed gaze.Arjun sat in his usual seat, his heart racing, the recording and photo in his pocket a secret fire.
The sight of Meera—her pink saree, her bare arms, the memory of her armpit and Priya’s kisses—consumed him. His body was alive, his jeans tight, his mind replaying the staff room scene, her moans, her allure. He waited patiently, his eyes tracing her every movement, her waist, her grace, his obsession deepening with every glance. The class proceeded, but the tension between them, unspoken, hung heavy, a prelude to what was to come.
To be continued.....
![[Image: 20250701-054553.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/dwCvL9gM/20250701-054553.jpg)
Monday’s sultry warmth enveloped St. Mark’s, the air thick with rainclouds and the electric undercurrent of unspoken desires. Meera’s pink saree and deep-back blouse had set the morning ablaze, Priya’s lustful gaze and Arjun’s fixation on her waist leaving her skin tingling with a dangerous thrill.
The poems from last week—Arjun’s fervent words about her navel, ass, and armpit—still echoed in her mind, mingling with the morning’s intensity: Priya’s bold compliments, Arjun’s statue-like stare as the breeze teased her pallu, revealing her navel. Meera moved through her classes, her composure a fragile shield, her body alive with sensation—her waist sensitive, her navel tingling, her spine warm where the blouse bared it. The pink silk clung to her curves, its vibrant hue glowing in the soft light, the sleeveless blouse accentuating her toned arms, the deep back revealing the smooth, elegant curve of her spine.
Her loose bun, with strands brushing her neck, carried her jasmine scent, a subtle tease that lingered in every room.Arjun, meanwhile, carried the secret photo in his pocket, a forbidden treasure burning to be seen. The image of Meera’s swaying ass and deep-back blouse consumed him, his excitement a constant pulse, his body tense with anticipation. The poems, the falls photo, the morning’s glimpse of her navel—they fueled his obsession, and the new photo was a spark waiting to ignite.
The Elusive Moment – Arjun’s Burning Anticipation
Arjun sat through his morning classes, his mind far from the lessons. His phone, tucked in his pocket, was a heavy weight, the photo of Meera’s back and ass a promise he couldn’t yet claim. His heart raced with every thought of her—her pink saree clinging to her curves, her spine’s elegant curve, her ass swaying in the corridor. During the morning interval, he sought solitude, slipping toward a quiet corner near the library, his fingers itching to open the photo. But his friends intercepted him, pulling him into a lively game of cards under the courtyard’s banyan tree, their laughter and banter drowning his frustration. “Come on, Arjun, don’t zone out!” they teased, oblivious to the fire in his mind. He forced a smile, his thoughts on Meera’s curves, the anticipation gnawing at him.
At lunch break, he tried again, stealing away to a secluded stairwell, the air cool and dim, perfect for privacy. His hand hovered over his phone, but footsteps echoed—a teacher patrolling the corridors, her sharp voice calling out to lingering students. Arjun shoved the phone back, his pulse pounding, and rejoined his friends in the canteen, their chatter a blur against his growing need. The image of Meera’s ass, the silk’s cling, her spine’s glow, haunted him, his body tense, a heat spreading, his jeans tightening with every thought.
By the afternoon interval, his desperation was unbearable. The ten-minute break was his chance. He excused himself, claiming a need for the restroom, and hurried to the men’s bathroom at the end of the corridor, its tiled walls echoing faintly with the drip of a leaky faucet. In his haste, he pushed the door shut but didn’t notice the latch fail to catch, leaving it slightly ajar. Alone in a stall, he pulled out his phone, his hands trembling, his breath shallow. The screen glowed, revealing the photo—Meera’s deep-back blouse framing her spine’s smooth curve, the pink saree molding to her full, rounded ass, its sway frozen in a moment of hypnotic allure. The silk clung to her curves, accentuating every detail, the light catching the sheen of her skin, her back a vision of elegance, her ass a provocative tease.
Arjun’s mouth went dry, his body reacting fiercely, a heat surging through him, his jeans impossibly tight. “Sss… Meera ma’am, what a sexy back you have,” he whispered, his voice a low, fervent moan, thick with longing. He began stroking himself, his hand moving in rhythm with his racing pulse, his mind lost in the image—her ass swaying, her spine glowing, the poems he’d written, the dream where her skin trembled under his touch. The pleasure built, intense, consuming, his moans growing louder, “Meera… your back… your curves…” His body shuddered, and within moments, he released a huge load, the volume startling even him, a wave of relief washing over him as he leaned against the stall, gasping, his heart pounding.
The Unseen Witness – Meera’s Shock and Awe
Unbeknownst to Arjun, Meera had slipped into the adjacent women’s bathroom minutes earlier, needing a moment to cool the heat of the morning’s gazes. Her pink saree swayed as she adjusted her pallu, her fingers grazing her waist, the sensation sending a shiver through her, her navel tingling as if still exposed to Arjun’s stare. She splashed water on her face, the mirror reflecting her flushed cheeks, her loose bun slightly mussed, strands clinging to her neck. As she exited, her bangles clinking softly, she heard faint moans from the men’s bathroom, the door ajar, a sliver of light spilling out.
Curiosity, laced with unease, drew her closer, her heart quickening. She peeked through the gap, her breath catching in her throat.There was Arjun, his phone glowing, his hand moving rhythmically, his voice a low moan, “Sss… Meera ma’am, what a sexy back you have.” Meera’s eyes widened, shock crashing over her like a wave, followed by a strange, electric excitement. He was masturbating to a photo of her—her back, her ass, captured in the pink saree, the deep-back blouse. Her gaze darted to his arousal, bigger than she’d expected for his age, a detail that sent a jolt through her, her body responding unbidden. Her waist tingled, her navel sensitive, her spine warm as if his words caressed her. The sight was raw, forbidden, yet intoxicating, her skin flushing, goosebumps rising on her bare arms.
When Arjun released, the sheer volume of his load left her in awe, her breath shallow, her mind reeling. The intensity of his desire, so focused on her, was both unsettling and thrilling, a spark igniting a dangerous warmth within her. She stepped back quickly, her heart pounding, avoiding detection, and hurried toward the staff room, her pink saree swaying, her body trembling with a mix of shock, excitement, and unease. The realization hit her: he’d taken another photo, not the falls image of her waist and navel, but a new one, likely from today’s corridor, capturing her back and ass. The thought sent a shiver through her, her skin alive, her body betraying her with a tingling sensation she couldn’t ignore.
The Staff Room – Meera’s Trance of Thoughts
In the staff room, Meera stood by the window, the pink saree glowing in the soft light filtering through rainclouds, her sleeveless blouse baring her toned arms, the deep back revealing her spine’s elegant curve. The breeze from the open window teased her pallu, brushing her waist, amplifying the tingling sensation that hadn’t faded. The incident replayed in her mind—Arjun’s moans, his hand, the glowing phone, his whispered words, “What a sexy back.” She was in a trance, her thoughts a storm of conflicting emotions.Was he taking photos regularly, behind her back? The falls photo, her waist and navel, was one thing; the poems, with their fervent worship of her navel, ass, and armpit, another. But this new photo, of her back and ass, suggested a pattern—a secret collection of her beauty.
Had he taken it in the corridor, her ass swaying, her spine bared? Or was he capturing her daily, unnoticed, his obsession growing with each image? The thought was unsettling, yet the thrill of being so desired, so worshipped, sent a warmth through her, her navel tingling as if exposed, her spine alive where the blouse left it bare.Her mind lingered on Arjun’s arousal—bigger than she’d expected, a detail that shocked and fascinated her.
The sheer volume of his release, the intensity of his desire, was a testament to his fixation, a fire that consumed him. She wondered, unbidden, how it would feel to touch it, to be the object of such raw passion, the thought sending goosebumps across her arms, her breath deepening. She was an adult, a professional, bound by boundaries, yet the sight of him, lost in her image, had stirred something primal, a forbidden excitement that made her body hum. She pressed her hand to her waist, the spot sensitive, as if his gaze, his words, still lingered there.
The Heated Moment – Priya’s Intimacy
As Meera stood lost in her trance, Priya entered the staff room, her eyes lighting up at Meera’s radiant figure, the pink saree a beacon of allure. “Well, well, madam, lost in a daydream by the window?” she teased, her voice low and playful, stepping close behind Meera.
“Are you thinking about all the hearts you’re breaking today, or is it something more… specific?” Her tone was teasing but charged, her eyes tracing Meera’s bare arms, the curve of her back, a spark of admiration flickering.Meera turned slightly, her cheeks flushed, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Just catching my breath, Priya,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady, the morning’s intensity still coursing through her.
“It’s been a long day already.”Priya raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, her presence warm, intimate.
“Long day? You’re glowing like it’s your first. That saree, that blouse—you’re making it hard to focus on anything else.” Her voice dropped, a playful challenge in her words, her gaze lingering on Meera’s spine, the pink silk clinging to her curves.
Before Meera could respond, Priya’s fingers grazed her bare waist, a light, teasing touch that sent shivers through Meera’s body, already primed by her trance. Meera let out a soft, erotic moan, the sound involuntary, charged with the morning’s intensity.
Priya, sensing the moment’s heat, pressed closer, wrapping her arms around Meera from behind, her hands resting on Meera’s waist, gently tracing the smooth skin toward her stomach.The touch was electric, sending shivers through Meera’s already primed body, her breath hitching. Priya’s lips brushed Meera’s shoulder, planting soft, deliberate kisses, moving slowly toward her neck, each kiss a spark of heat.
Meera trembled, a soft, continuous moan escaping, her body alive, her waist tingling, her navel sensitive. She raised her hand, placing it on Priya’s head, her fingers tangling in her hair, her arm lifting to expose her armpit—smooth, sheened with warmth, a glowing hollow catching the light.Priya’s kisses deepened, her lips warm and teasing on Meera’s neck, her hands caressing Meera’s stomach, the touch intimate, almost possessive. Meera’s expressions were erotic, her eyes half-closed, her moans soft but persistent, “Mmm… Priya…” The moment was heated, a dance of desire, Priya’s touch amplifying the thrill of Arjun’s earlier act. Meera’s skin flushed, her spine warm, her body surrendering to the sensation, the morning’s intensity converging in this intimate embrace.
The Witness – Arjun’s Secret Record
Unbeknownst to them, Arjun approached the staff room, sent by his social studies teacher to retrieve a set of reference books. He stopped short at the doorway, his breath catching at the sight: Priya hugging Meera from behind, her hands caressing Meera’s waist and stomach, her lips kissing Meera’s shoulder, moving to her neck. Meera’s arm was raised, her armpit exposed, glowing in the soft light, its smooth curve a vision of allure.
Her expressions were intensely erotic, her soft moans—“Mmm… Priya…”—echoing, her pink saree swaying, the deep-back blouse revealing her spine. The scene was overwhelming, a sensual tableau that shook Arjun to his core.His body reacted fiercely, a heat surging through him, his jeans tightening, his heart pounding. The sight of Meera’s armpit, Priya’s kisses, the interplay of their bodies—it was more than his dreams, more than the poems, more than the photos. Driven by impulse, he pulled out his phone, his hands trembling, and began recording, capturing every detail: Meera’s exposed armpit, Priya’s lips on her neck, the pink saree’s cling, Meera’s moans.
The moment was a treasure, a forbidden vision that fueled his obsession, his excitement bordering on euphoria.As Priya’s hands moved to the saree pleats at Meera’s waist, her fingers brushing the fabric hiding her navel, poised to loosen it, the college bell rang loudly, its shrill tone shattering the moment. Meera and Priya snapped back to reality, their eyes meeting in an awkward, flushed glance.
Meera quickly adjusted her saree, her hands trembling slightly, her face warm as she moved to her desk to collect books for her next class. Priya, her own cheeks flushed, stepped outside for air, her heart racing, the intensity of the moment lingering. Arjun pocketed his phone, his excitement undimmed, and entered the staff room, pretending normalcy.Meera glanced up as he approached, their eyes meeting for a fleeting second, a spark of tension passing between them. She saw the flush in his cheeks, the intensity in his gaze, and wondered if he’d seen, if he knew. Arjun, retrieving the books, kept his expression neutral, but his mind was a storm, the recording a burning secret in his pocket. They both proceeded with their tasks, the air thick with unspoken desires, the weight of their shared moments hanging heavy.
The Math Class – A Tense Anticipation
An hour later, Meera entered the math classroom for her afternoon session, the pink saree radiant in the soft light filtering through the windows, its silk clinging to her curves, the low pleats accentuating her waist. Her sleeveless blouse bared her toned arms, the deep back a subtle tease, her loose bun swaying, strands brushing her neck. Her composure was intact, but her body carried the day’s weight—Arjun’s moans in the bathroom, the photo of her back, Priya’s kisses, the tingling sensation of their desires. Her waist and navel were sensitive, her spine warm, her armpit tingling as if still exposed. She began the lesson, her voice steady, explaining integrals, but her eyes flicked to Arjun, noting his tense posture, his fixed gaze.Arjun sat in his usual seat, his heart racing, the recording and photo in his pocket a secret fire.
The sight of Meera—her pink saree, her bare arms, the memory of her armpit and Priya’s kisses—consumed him. His body was alive, his jeans tight, his mind replaying the staff room scene, her moans, her allure. He waited patiently, his eyes tracing her every movement, her waist, her grace, his obsession deepening with every glance. The class proceeded, but the tension between them, unspoken, hung heavy, a prelude to what was to come.
To be continued.....
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