Adultery The Language of Her Heart

[yazhiniram]

EPISODE 115 & 116

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He took another sip.

Slow.

Not like before.

Now it was almost lazy.

Careful.

Savoring.

His lips just rested on the rim of the tumbler.

The steel touched his mouth soft.

But his eyes…

They didn’t leave mine.


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“Hmm,” he murmured.

Low sound. Almost from his chest.

“Coffee is strong.”


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I turned my face slightly.

Sideways. Not fully.

Just enough to look at him from corner of my eye.

“Too strong, ah?” I asked softly.


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He shook his head, slow.

“No,” he said. “Just right. Perfect.”


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A small smile came on my lips.

Not big.

Not wide.

Just that soft one — where one corner lifts.

The one that’s half private.

Only for this moment.


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I reached up and wiped the corner of my mouth.

There was one small dot of coffee there.

Warm.

Sticky.

My finger brushed it away, slow.

I felt it cling.


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“I made it thick today,” I said, voice soft. “Half milk, half decoction.”


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He didn’t stop watching me.

Still holding the tumbler.

“Can feel it,” he said quietly.

Then placed it on the table.

The metal touched the wood.

A small thak.

Like a signal.


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But his eyes weren’t on coffee anymore.

They dropped.

Lower.

To my waist.


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My saree was tucked clean.

Black cotton.

Tight around the curve of my stomach.

The pleats were neat.

Falling naturally along my thigh.

The side curve where my hip dipped inward — he was staring there.


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Then his eyes moved again.

Up.

To my chest.

Where the pallu rested.

Soft cotton.

But light.

Blouse underneath was full — round — stretched gently.

He was seeing all.

Not touching.

Not moving.

Just seeing.

And I could feel it.

Like a finger sliding slowly up my skin.


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But this wasn’t like Prakash.

Not greedy.

Not rough.

This stare was quiet.

Steady.

Like he already knew this skin.

Had tasted it.

Wanted to taste again.

But better this time.

More.


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I adjusted my pleats a little.

Then pulled my pallu up.

Covered better.

Tighter over chest.

Still modest.

Still clean.

But I knew.

He saw everything.

Even the shifts in fabric.


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He didn’t hide his stare.

I looked away once.

Then again.

But third time…

I turned fully.

Met his eyes.

No smile now on my face.

Just quiet.

Just bold.

Eye to eye.


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He didn’t blink.

He smiled — just a little.

Waited.


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I narrowed my eyes.

Voice dropped.

“Don’t look at me like that.”


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He tilted his head.

“Like what?”


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“Like…” I said, searching.

“Like you’re going to eat me alive or something.”


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He didn’t laugh.

He didn’t deny.

He just said it.

Plain.

Low.

“Maybe I want to.”

A pause.

“But you’re not letting me.”


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My chest gave a small tight pull.

Not painful.

Just… aware.

I bit my lower lip.

Pretending innocence.

Playing.


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“What you want to eat, anna?”

Voice slow.

Mocking.

But I knew.

I knew what I was asking.

I wanted him to say.


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He smiled gently. “What, Pavi. You don’t know?”

He lifted his eyebrows.

That man look.

That I-want-you look.


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“I want rasgulla only.”

His eyes dropped.

To my breasts.

Just one second.

Then back to my face.


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I covered my mouth with my fingers.

Shaking head.

“Ayyyo… you’ve started again.”

My face felt hot.

Ears burning.

But I was smiling inside.

Full.


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He leaned back.

Arms open.

Chest relaxed.

“That’s not starting,” he said. “I never stopped.”

“You’re the one who gave only smell. Didn’t serve fully.”


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I couldn’t breathe for a second.

Those words.

“Only smell.”

“Didn’t serve.”

He knew exactly what to say.

To press the heat deeper.


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I leaned back against sofa.

Didn’t know where to keep my hands.

My fingers were playing with saree border.

Clutching.

Releasing.

Again.


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He leaned forward now.

Elbows on knees.

Body coming near.

Voice low.

“Pavi.”


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“Hmm?” I said.

Not fully facing him.

Half shy.

Half caught.


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“I want to finish my dessert.”

His tone was soft.

But serious.


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“Anna…” I laughed nervously.

Brushed hair from forehead.

“I already gave no? What else you’re asking now?”


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He shrugged.

But no play in his eyes.

Just that quiet hunger.

“That’s not enough.”

“Smell is not enough.”

“I want to taste.”

He leaned closer.

“Proper.”

“On my lips.”


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My legs moved on their own.

Pressed tight.

Thighs touched.

My knees locked inward.

The space between burned.


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“Ayyyo…” I whispered.

“Stop it.”

But I didn’t move.

I stayed.

I didn’t scold.

Didn’t call Radhika.

Just sat.

Let the words sit inside my chest.


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He was watching everything.

How my hands were nervous.

How my breath had slowed.

How my chest moved under cotton.

He saw.

He sipped it all like coffee.

With eyes.


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“Pavi.”

“Hmm?”

He looked straight.

“I meant what I said.”

“I want rasgulla.”


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I looked at him sideways.

Half smiling.

Half hiding.

“Aah… see now… you’re becoming too much.”

“Whatever I did… that was already too much.”

I said it, but my voice didn’t sound strong.

It sounded like breath.

Like warning mixed with remembering.


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Outside, Radhika’s voice kept rising and falling.

From the balcony.

That mother-daughter voice.

Sharp in the beginning, softer in the end, then sharp again.

I didn’t catch the words.

Only tones.

Names here and there.

“Aiyo…” she said once. Then silence. Then louder.


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She was still busy.

Still arguing.

Still standing in wind.

She wasn’t coming inside.

Not soon.

But…

I couldn’t relax.

Not fully.


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Raj sat in front of me.

Still.

His elbows resting on his knees.

Tumbler empty.

Just sitting on the table like forgotten toy.

But his body didn’t move.

Only his eyes.

Only that.

Looking.

Watching.

At me.


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I didn’t sit fully toward him.

Just slightly sideways.

Upright.

My hands were tight together in my lap.

Fingers twisting the edge of my pallu.

Fidgeting it.

Rolling. Unrolling.

Eyes flicking now and then to the curtain.

The sliding door was closed.

But the wind still made that soft tap-tap on the glass.

One curtain thread danced alone.


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Still I said it.

Soft.

Without turning.

“Radhika will come any time…”


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He didn’t answer fast.

He just inhaled.

That kind of breath where air feels thick.

Then leaned back.

Casual now.

Like nothing.

“No. She won’t,” he said.

“You heard her. Her mother started something big.”


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I turned slightly toward him.

Half-face.

“Still,” I said.

“Anything can happen. You’re playing with me like there’s no risk.”


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“I’m not playing,” he said.

Calm.

Not defensive.

Just calm.

“I’m asking.”


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My hand squeezed pallu edge tighter.

Rolled it like one stick.

His body shifted.

Not toward me fully.

Just enough.

Just that slow angle.

Intentional.


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“Pavi…” he said again.

Low voice.

“Give me my dessert.”


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I closed my eyes.

One full second.

Not thinking.

Just… letting my breath slow.

Then I said softly.

“Anna…”


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He didn’t speak.

Just waited.

Not pushing.

Not begging.

Just there.

Still.


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I turned my face again.

Now fully.

Looked at him.

My eyes narrow.

Not angry.

Not sweet.

Just warning.

Soft warning.

“You’re becoming mad.”


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He smiled. That slow one.

That kind where no teeth show.

Just lips.

“I didn't ask dessert after dinner. You asked about dessert.”

“You asked me what I want.”

“You started it.”


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“I didn’t start rasgulla, I asked about coffee,” I said sharply.

Low.

Through my teeth.


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“But you didn’t feed me properly,” he replied.

“I’m half full,” he continued, voice soft.

“Because it was covered completely. I could smell.”

“Not taste.”

“I’m still hungry.”


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My stomach clenched.

My teeth pressed on lower lip.

That line he said — still hungry — it stayed in my body like heat.


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“Don’t say like that.”


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“Then give,” he said.


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I shifted.

One leg tucked under the other.

My saree rustled soft.

“What give?” I asked.

But I knew.

I just wanted him to say.


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“You know.”


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I shook my head.

Voice shook with it.

“No way. Akka’s here.”


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“She’s not here. She’s outside.”


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“Stop it…” I whispered.

“Why now, suddenly?”


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He looked at me.

Calm face.

“No reason. Just now I’m getting chance.”

“When else will I get?”


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I looked toward the curtain.

Her voice was still rising.

She was saying some cousin name now.

Sharp tone.

Half shout.

She was still outside.

Still locked in that call.


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“I can’t do like that, anna.”

“Why not?”

“What if she comes? What if I didn’t see?”

“She can’t see us here. She won’t hear anything. Next forty minutes, she won’t return.”


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My head moved. No.

But even that no felt soft.

Felt confused.


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He lowered his voice more.

Just a thread.

“Just taste. One time. Rasgulla.”


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“You’re talking like it’s some sweet in fridge,” I said, trying to laugh.

But it came out nervous.

Dry.


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“It is,” he said.

“Fresh. Soft. White.”


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“Stop…” I whispered again.

My mouth was dry.

Tongue sticking.

Palms were sweating.

But my legs…

Still.

I hadn’t moved.


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“You asked me dessert,” he said.

“I said. You let me smell. Now give me taste.”


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“Anna…” I said. “Don’t…”


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“I’m asking. That’s all.”

“One proper taste. In my mouth. Only that.”


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My knees were not closed anymore.

They had separated without telling me.

Cool air touched that space between.

My thighs were shivering softly.


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I looked at him.

He hadn’t moved.

Not one inch.

But his eyes…

They were holding everything.

Not wild.

Not greedy.

But full.


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“I’m scared,” I said softly.

Then…

“I never did like that… and even Radhika akka is in balcony only…”


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He nodded. “But she cannot see or hear.”

“It’s only me. And you.”


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My eyes blurred.

Some strange heat behind them.

Fear.

Shyness.

Excitement.

All packed together.


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“You won’t do anything else?” I asked.


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“Nothing.”

“You’ll be in control?”

“You tell. I’ll stop.”


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My hand touched my chest.

Not pressing.

Just staying.

Feeling.

Over the blouse.

Not offering.

Not guarding.

Just… feeling.

It was warm.

Inside.

Outside.

Everywhere.


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He was still looking.

Waiting.


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I breathed out. Long.

“Only one time, you stop it, when I say stop” I whispered.


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He nodded. “One.”

“If anything goes wrong…”

“You stop it.”


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My body was shaking.

Not outside.

Inside.

That slow, warm shake that comes before something starts.


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Fingers fidgeted again.

Not acting.

Just trying to decide.

Then…

I looked down.

Once.

Then up again.

“…I’ll come there,” I said.

My voice caught on the last word.


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He didn’t act like boy.

Didn’t jump.

Didn’t shout.

Just leaned back.

Opened space near him.

On the sofa.

Gave room.

Welcoming.

Not dragging.


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I didn’t stand.

I didn’t rush.

I moved on the sofa itself.

One slow shift.

Then another.

My hips sliding over cushion.

My saree rubbing under me.

Warm cotton.

My breath short.

Each inch closer.

To him.


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The fabric under me was warm now.

My saree had started bunching slightly under my thigh.

It folded and creased near my hip as I dragged across the sofa.

The soft hiss of cotton brushing against the cushion filled the silence.

It was not loud.

But I could hear it.

Like slow breath.

Like cloth learning the shape of skin.


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I just moved.

One slow drag.

My hips shifting, sliding with weight.

Dragging myself one inch closer to him.

Then again.

Another small push.

The cushion dipped slightly with my movement.

I could feel the soft resistance of fabric.


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My breath had shortened.

Not panting.

Just tighter.

More inside than out.

My thighs brushed as I adjusted again.

My petticoat clung at the back.

That sticky warmth stayed with me.


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He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t lean or stretch.

Just waited.

That still posture.

That full patience.

Only his eyes on me.

Only that.


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By the time I reached beside him, I could feel it.

That heat.

Not touch yet.

But close.

The nearness of his body.

That warm pressure of a man sitting firm beside me.

It made the left side of my body alert.

Like skin waking.


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My knee was almost grazing his thigh.

One inch gap, maybe less.

My shoulder not touching, but not far.

My saree adjusted, but I didn’t check.

I just sat.

Still.


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Akka’s voice kept floating.

Still from the balcony.

Still arguing.

Still emotional.

Names and half-sentences.

Daughters. Uncles. Something.

But her presence — it was just beyond that curtain.

That thin sliding door.

A line of glass.

Anything could happen.


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“Anna…” I said.

My voice didn’t rise.

Just came out.

Small.

Like from inside a folded towel.


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He turned his face slightly. “Hmm?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I swallowed.

My throat felt dry now.

“Close your eyes.”


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He raised one eyebrow, smile tugging. “Why?”


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“Just close,” I said. “No questions.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He gave that lazy smile. “I’m not a college boy, Pavi. I’ll peek.”


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I narrowed my eyes. “If you peek, you won’t get what you want.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Oh ho…” he chuckled, low and rough. “Violence before rasgulla?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Close, anna.” My voice firmer now. “Close properly.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His smile didn’t leave.

But it softened.

He nodded. “Okay.”

And closed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His eyes.

Gone now.

Just eyelids.

Peaceful.

But not asleep.

His chest was rising.

Slow.

His arms resting beside him.

Open.


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I looked once at the curtain.

Still no shadow.

Still no hand pulling it open.

Her voice still flowing — faster now.

But feet still outside.

Safe.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My hand lifted.

Shaking slightly.

I reached my shoulder.

That left side.

Where the safety pin sat.

Holding the pallu in place.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My thumb moved.

Slipped under the pin-head.

And unhooked it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Click.

Small metal sound.

Like coin dropping on tile.

The pin loosened.

And the pallu…

Fell.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It slid down.

From my shoulder.

Across my chest.

Over my navel.

Into my lap.

A soft fall.

A quiet cloth river.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Now my blouse.

Exposed fully.

Black.

Tight.

Slightly stretched from earlier.

The hooks across my chest were pulling gently.

That pressure line showing.

My breast full inside.

Barely contained.

I could feel the blouse touching my skin directly.

And air now…

Soft on the fabric.

I didn’t move.

Just breathed.

One time.


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I looked at Raj.

His eyes were closed.

But his lips…

Still had that smile.

Not playful.

Just knowing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Are you looking?” I whispered.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Swear.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I swear, Pavi.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared.

One more second.

Then I moved.

My fingers reached the bottom hook of the blouse.

The one resting just above my navel.

Cold.

Metal.

Touching skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I unhooked it.

Then the second.

Slow.

Each parting made the blouse loosen more.

Fabric started giving.

The curve of my breast pressed against the blouse harder now.

But I left the top hook.

Didn’t open that.

That one still held the shape.

Still closed the top.

Still gave me the chance to back out.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked again.

To the balcony.

Curtain still swaying.

Her voice rising now.

Some word — sounded like “marriage”.

She was in full mood.

She wasn’t coming.

Not yet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned back.

“Anna…”

“Hmm?”

His eyes were still closed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No opening, okay?”

“No opening.”

“You won’t cheat?”

“I won’t cheat.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’ll just wait?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll not grab?”

“I’ll only take if you give.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I took a long breath.

Then another.

Then I moved.

My hand reached up.

Touched the cloth.

I spread the blouse slightly.

Not full.

Just pulled it apart a little.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Warmth hit me first.

From inside.

Then air.

From outside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My hand slid in.

Inside the blouse.

Under the bra.

Fingers slow.

Careful.

Shivering slightly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I pushed one thumb under the strap.

Tugged gently.

The cup lifted.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The fabric moved.

Slid.

And my right breast…

Came out.

Freed.

Heavy with heat.

Round with want.

The nipple already tight.

Already alive.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Left one stayed hidden.

Safe.

Right one…

Open.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My chest moved softly with breath.

I adjusted the blouse edges.

Made sure it wasn’t too open.

Just enough.

Ready to close.

Ready to run.

But…

I didn’t.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked once more at the curtain.

No shadow.

Just her voice.

Still going.

Faster now.

She was talking about some family fight.

Still outside.

Still safe.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned back.

He was there.

Eyes closed.

Breath calm.

Still waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Anna,” I whispered.

He smiled slightly. “Hmm?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No looking, okay?”

“I’m not.”

“You won’t cheat?”

“I won’t cheat.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stared at him.

One last time.

Then down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My right breast was there.

Full.

Alive.

Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He sat still.

Eyes closed.

His back rested softly into the sofa. Not stiff. Just leaning, just enough.

Legs long — stretched.

Feet flat on the floor.

Arms spread gently over the cushions. Fingers relaxed.

He looked like a man waiting for temple prasad. Quiet. Calm. Not greedy.

But ready.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And I was beside him.

Still.

But not calm.

My heart felt like it was inside my neck.

Not in my chest.

It was pulsing near my throat.

Tight. Fast.

My blouse hung loose below — the bottom hooks open.

The right side pulled out, my bra cup pushed up like crumpled cloth.

It pinched a little under my arm.

But I didn’t fix it.

Couldn’t.

Didn’t even blink.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My right breast was fully outside now.

Soft and heavy.

Still.

Open.

Exposed.

Alive.

The air inside the hall wasn’t cold, but it felt cold there.

Because that skin — it was never shown before.

Never touched open air before.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I sat like stone.

Not because I wanted.

Because I didn’t know how to move.

My fingers held the edge of my pallu — fidgeting, twisting, rubbing the silk like habit.

The saree covered me below.

But above…

That one breast sat out.

Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bent slightly.

My mouth near his ear.

My breath touched his cheek.

I whispered, “Anna.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His head turned slightly. Just his face.

“Hmm?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“It’s ready.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He smiled. That small curve again.

“So rasgulla is ready to serve?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I swallowed.

My tongue felt thick.

“Hmm,” I said softly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He tilted his face downward, still keeping his eyes closed.

I saw his neck stretch.

He was trying to bend forward.

Trying to lower his mouth toward my chest.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But his back didn’t bend properly.

His long body didn’t curl like that.

The sofa’s angle was wrong.

He grunted softly. “I can’t reach.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I blinked.

Watched him struggle again.

His neck lowered.

Shoulders rounded.

But his chin barely came past my waist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No use,” he said. Whispering. “You’re too small, Pavi.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked down.

Yes.

He was trying.

But his neck strained.

His back stiff.

He couldn’t do it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Come,” he said, voice soft now. “Sit.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Sit where?” I asked.

I knew.

But I asked.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Here.” His voice dropped one step deeper. “On my lap. I can’t bend so much. Just come sit.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“No, anna…” I whispered.

Scared.

But not running.

Still beside him.

Still with one breast bare.

Still… close.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“It’s okay,” he said. “Don’t stand. Just move little. Sit on me.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I turned my head.

Looked at the curtain.

It moved softly in the breeze.

But no feet.

No shadow.

Only voice.

Still going.

Still arguing.

Still sharp.

Akka wasn’t coming.

Not now.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My hand stayed on my blouse.

Covering halfway.

Holding nothing.

Just there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I can’t, anna…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t pull.

Didn’t touch.

Didn’t move.

Only said, “Pavi… she cannot see you. She won’t come now. It’s safe. Just… shift. You’re trembling already. You’ll drop the rasgulla before serving.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I closed my eyes.

Half a second.

That’s all.

Then opened.

Looked again at the curtain.

Still safe.

Still only wind.

Still only her voice.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I bit my lip.

Then… shifted.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Didn’t stand.

Didn’t lift.

Just turned.

My hips twisted toward him.

My knees bent gently.

Feet adjusted.

And I moved…

Onto his lap.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His thighs received me.

Firm.

Strong.

Steady.

One knee on either side now.

Saree still covering between.

My ass rested over his thighs.

My back straight.

My arms unsure.

But I was there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hands moved.

Not sudden.

One arm reached behind.

Rested over my back.

Fingers landing near my hip.

Just holding.

Not pulling.

Just letting me stay.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I didn’t look at him.

My head stayed down.

Eyes on his shirt.

My right breast now close to his face.

Open.

Near.

Ready.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And below…

I felt it.

His cock.

It had started rising.

Slow.

Not hard yet.

Not pushing.

But it was there.

Firm.

Warm.

A weight under my thigh.

Saree between.

But I could feel the shape.

The press.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My cheeks flushed.

Hot now.

Like fever in both sides.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He was breathing softly.

Not fast.

But I could feel his chest rise and fall.

Under me.

With me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Still closed?” I whispered.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He nodded. “Still.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t open, anna.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I took one breath.

Then lifted my hand.

Touched his head.

My fingers slid into his hair.

Warm.

Thick.

Slightly sweaty.

I held.

Then…

Guided.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Slowly.

Steady.

I pulled his face forward.

Not pushing.

Just bringing.

Gently.

Toward my chest.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His breath touched me first.

Soft.

Warm.

Right over the curve of my breast.

I gasped.

One soft inhale.

It hit me straight.

Like lightning made of heat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then I moved his face again.

One inch more.

Final.

And his mouth…

Touched the rasgulla.