Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

Down below, she was a symphony of softness:


Her pussy petals unfurling, smooth and damp, swelling slightly as if anticipating a touch.

The delicate line of her vulva was framed by a dark dusting of pubic hair that caught the light like spun gold.

Even in this moment of raw vulnerability, she was breathtaking.

She wasn't simply naked; she was an embodiment of femininity unveiled,

A vision of pure, untamed beauty.


Everything about her was gentle and overwhelming at once.

She looked like she belonged on the cover of a couture magazine,

Or in a royal portrait.

But she was married.

Cooking lunch, folding clothes in a Mumbai apartment.

And no one saw.

The world looked past her.

Her husband… barely looked at all.

    “Look at you.”
    “Tell me... what’s wrong with you?”
    “Too fair?”
    “Too soft?”
    “Too much for him to handle?”
    (smiling faintly) “Or too easy to take for granted?”

A long silence.

    “I could’ve been on any magazine cover.”
    “I could’ve walked the ramp, done ads, contests, anything I wanted.”
    “People used to stop my parents on the street and say, ‘Your daughter is movie material.’”
    (bitter laugh) “And now?”
    “Now I’m folding laundry. Cooking. Smiling politely in a sari.”


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