Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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He reached for the spoon again, but instead of feeding him, 

she dipped her finger into the rasmalai and touched it to his cheek.

“Now,” she said, “you owe me a bite.”

She leaned in, not for the dessert, but for his reaction.

For that flicker in his eyes.

For the way his breath hitched.

She was enjoying the power of her tease, like a dancer in rhythm with silence.

In the still air, he noticed her earrings brushing her neck,

The curve of her waist where the dream’s logic let the fabric slip slightly,

Showing just a hint of skin where reality would be too shy.

His hands didn’t move. 

His body didn’t dare.

But his mind, his dream, etched every line of her as if he’d been given permission to paint her from memory.

She stepped closer.

"Careful, Ravi," she said softly. "Dreams reveal what you want... and what you fear."

“And what if I want this to never end?”

She smirked. “Then wake up slowly.”

He reached for her,  not greedy, not bold, just as a man trying to keep the moment stitched to his breath.

But the kitchen shimmered, the silver plate glowed brighter... and the scent of cardamom faded like mist.

And then...

The alarm buzzed.

He woke up with a dry throat and a racing heart, still tasting sweetness he hadn’t eaten,

Still feeling the warmth of something that hadn’t quite happened.

Ravi blinked, letting out a long breath, whispering to himself.


“…I don’t think I’ll ever look at Rasmalai the same way again.”

-- oOo --

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