03-07-2025, 05:51 PM
Tantric Seated Lotus: The Stillness That Burns
Meghana shifted her weight slowly, after the final pose
One knee at a time,
Until she settled herself gently on Abhi’s lap, facing him
Her legs wrapped lightly around his waist.
Their bodies aligned with a quiet symmetry.
No rush.
No laughter now.
Only breath.
Her micro shorts rode up slightly with the movement,
And the cool morning air kissed the backs of her thighs,
Now pressed against the heat of his skin.
Abhi’s hands instinctively found her waist, not gripping, just resting, grounding.
Meghana’s arms slid up around his shoulders, her palms cradling the nape of his neck,
Fingers threading gently through the ends of his hair.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
They just looked at each other.
The silence was thick, slow like honey.
Her eyes didn’t blink, liquid brown, molten with something far deeper than teasing.
His hands flexed slightly on her waist, feeling the rhythm of her breathing—fast, but steadying.
His chest rose with hers, the fabric of her seamless bra grazing against his bare skin with every inhale.
“You still breathing?” she whispered, a corner of her lip curling upward.
“Barely,” he murmured back. “You?”
She leaned in slowly, until her forehead rested against his. “This is more than I imagined.”
- o -
Meghana shifted her weight slowly, after the final pose
One knee at a time,
Until she settled herself gently on Abhi’s lap, facing him
Her legs wrapped lightly around his waist.
Their bodies aligned with a quiet symmetry.
No rush.
No laughter now.
Only breath.
Her micro shorts rode up slightly with the movement,
And the cool morning air kissed the backs of her thighs,
Now pressed against the heat of his skin.
Abhi’s hands instinctively found her waist, not gripping, just resting, grounding.
Meghana’s arms slid up around his shoulders, her palms cradling the nape of his neck,
Fingers threading gently through the ends of his hair.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
They just looked at each other.
The silence was thick, slow like honey.
Her eyes didn’t blink, liquid brown, molten with something far deeper than teasing.
His hands flexed slightly on her waist, feeling the rhythm of her breathing—fast, but steadying.
His chest rose with hers, the fabric of her seamless bra grazing against his bare skin with every inhale.
“You still breathing?” she whispered, a corner of her lip curling upward.
“Barely,” he murmured back. “You?”
She leaned in slowly, until her forehead rested against his. “This is more than I imagined.”
- o -
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