Adultery The Language of Her Heart

[yazhiniram]

I was sitting straight now.

Proper.

Upright.

No slouching.

No twisting.

Back fixed.


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Body relaxed.

Not a single pain.

Not one muscle complaining.

Only softness.

Only stillness.


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But the real problem?

That was not in my spine.

Or in my joints.

That was somewhere else.


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Somewhere inside.

Underneath.

In that hidden place.

The one no pooja can clean.


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Because ever since he touched me…

Something had started.


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A small twitch.

Very low.

Near panty line.

Where the cloth sits.


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Not strong.

Not sharp.

Just soft.

But it was growing.


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And then—

My eyes—

Like fool—

Went and looked.

Straight.

At his pants.


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The bulge.

That curve.

That shape of cock pressing from inside the uniform cloth.


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Firm.

Visible.

Rounded in the middle.

Wider near base.


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My lips parted slightly.

One soft breath tried to come.

But didn’t.


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Nothing came.

Only heat.

Only awareness.


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I blinked.

Then quickly looked away.

Eyes sharp.


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“Idiot, Pavi,” I muttered inside.

“Why are you checking that?”

“You just prayed an hour ago.”


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I turned in the chair.

Slightly.

Legs stayed together.

Pressed thighs tighter.


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But—

That made it worse.

Because the pressure—

It pushed.


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My pussy pulsed again.

One small throb.

Playful.

Knowing.


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Like it had seen what I saw.

Like it wanted more.


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He was still standing there.

Still silent.

Still facing me.


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I looked up sharply.

Voice came with it.

“Hello?”


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He blinked.

“Yes madam?”

“You again started staring?”


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“No madam…”

I stood up.

Slow.

Careful.

Hands on hips.


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Eyes narrow.

Voice sharp.

“You think you’re hero or what?”


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“No madam…”

“Then why your eyes are travelling like ticket inspector?”


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“Sorry madam…”

“Sorry? Keep your eyes in socket, not on my body!”


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“Yes madam…”

He looked down.

Head bent.

Still.

Silent.


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But that silence…

That guilt on his face…

It didn’t calm me.


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It made it worse.


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Because now?

He looked…

Submissive.


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Still.

Obedient.

Waiting.


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And that bulge?

Still there.

Still full.

Still awake.


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My body…

That useless shameless body…

It throbbed again.


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One small beat.

Right inside.

Behind panty line.


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I clenched.

Useless.

Pointless.

Still warm.

Still wet.

Still wanting.


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I closed my eyes.

One second.

Then cursed softly.


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“God, are you watching this?”

“I asked for strength. You gave me back pain.”


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“I asked for control. You sent cock.”


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Then—

Suddenly—

I stepped forward.

Sharp.

Fast.


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His head lifted.

Confused.

Eyes looking.

Then—

PAK!


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My palm.

Right cheek.

Tight.


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He didn’t expect it.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t block.

Just stood.

Breath held.

Eyes wide.


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“What are you looking at?” I snapped.

His mouth opened slightly.

Then—

“Madam…”

“What?”

“…today you’re looking very beautiful.”


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I stared.

Jaw dropped slightly.

Breath caught.


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“What did you say?”

He swallowed.

Still looking down.


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“I just said…”

“You just said? You’ve started saying directly ah? Praising?”


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“No madam… I didn’t mean—”

PAKKK!


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Second slap.

Left cheek.

His head jerked slightly.

But still—

He stood.


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“Your tongue is becoming long no?”

“No madam…”

“Why? You think I’m wearing saree for you?”

“No madam…”

“Make tea means compliment also you’ll give ah?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Did I ask your opinion?”

“No madam…”

He paused.

Then voice dropped.

“But it’s true…”


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I stared.

Brows lifted.

Slow breath.


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“Ohhh! So now you’re confident?”

“No madam…”

“You’ll tell me I’m beautiful like that?”

“You are, madam.”


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“And what next?”

“You’ll say you want to love me ah?”

“No madam… never…”

“You’ll touch feet and propose?”

“No madam…”


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I stepped forward.

Close.

Now face to face.


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“I should break your teeth.”

He looked down again.

Still didn’t move.

Still quiet.


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That bulge?

Still there.

Bigger now.

Taller.

Thicker.


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And me?

My body was lost.

Gone.

Fully betrayed.


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Chest was rising.

Soft.

Not heaving.

Just awake.


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Thighs pressing together.

Not hiding.

Just holding.


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Panty?

Warm.

Wet.

Laughing.


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I could feel it.

Clearly.

Sticky under the cotton.

Alive.


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And I knew.

I knew one thing.

If I didn’t stop now—

I’d lose.

Fully.


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But I didn’t stop.


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I looked down.

At it.

The shape.

The size.


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Thick.

Long.

Tugging against cloth.

Like trying to escape.


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Waiting.

Waiting for me.


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He didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Just stood.

Like soldier.


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I shook my head.

Whispered.

“This is not me.”


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But I stepped.

One final step.

And then—

Without warning…

Without plan…


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I reached down.

My hand.

Fast.

Wrapped.


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Grabbed it.

Full.

Firm.

Alive.


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Through the cloth.

Thick.

Hot.

Heavy in palm.


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I froze.

So did he.

Air paused.

Nothing moved.


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It was huge.

Hard.

Throbbing faint.


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And I wasn’t even sure…

If this was fully hard yet.


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My hand was still there.

Still wrapped.

Still holding.

That thick, throbbing thing.


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Inside his pants.

Inside my grip.

Firm.

Heavy.

Alive.


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And my whole body…

Not still.

Not calm.

Just…

Shivering.


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Not violently.

Not shaking like fear.

Just slow.

Trembling.

One small wave under the skin.


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My chest?

It was rising.

Not heaving.

Not gasping.

Just full breath.

Each one warm.

Heavy.


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And my control?

Gone.

That calm, temple-woman voice?

Vanished.


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Prayer?

Thrown.

God?

Out.

Temple?

Forgotten like yesterday's newspaper.


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But my face?

It didn’t show.

Not one crack.

Not one flicker.


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Just calm.

Blank.

Like I’m bargaining tomato price.

Not holding one man’s cock.


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Then—

PAKKK!

Another slap.

Sharp.

Quick.


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This time?

Left cheek.

My palm flat.

Hard.

Deliberate.


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His head jerked slightly.

But only slight.

Didn’t cry out.

Didn’t stumble.


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Just stood.

Still.

Silent.

Like scolded child.


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And under my hand?

Still that cock.

Still full.

Still pressing up into my palm like it had opinion.


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Eyes down.

Mouth open just a little.

Breath hot near his lips.


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I spoke sharp.

Proper scolding tone.

“What is this, ah?”


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He blinked.

“…Madam…”

“Why it’s standing like tower?”


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“I… I didn’t…”

“You gave small back sprain and now this thing is doing parade?”


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“I didn’t mean…”

“Meaning you’re doing physical therapy or starting love making?”


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“No madam… I swear…”

“You swear? To who? Your grandmother?”


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He swallowed again.

Throat moved.

But still standing.

Still bulging.


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I stepped.

Closer.

Just one half step.

But now?

My chest was near.


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Almost touching him.

Not brushing.

But near enough that heat passed between us.


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His cock?

Still there.

Still pressing.

Still pulsing.

Like second gas stove near my waist.


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But my face?

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t twitch.

Just eyes steady.

Cold.


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I looked into his eyes.

And said:

“Don’t think I won’t slap again.”


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He nodded quickly.

“I’m sorry, madam.”

“I didn’t say sorry. I asked what you’re thinking.”


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“…Nothing, madam…”

“Nothing? Then why your cock is thinking everything?”


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He bit his lip.

Eyes still down.

Face guilty.


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“I didn’t… I was just helping…”

“Helping? That’s your help? Standing like construction pole in middle of kitchen?”


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“I couldn’t stop…”

“Ohhh… now also it’s not stopping no?”


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I backed away.

One full step.

My hand let go.

But eyes didn’t.


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I turned.

Showed him my side.

Not full.

Just angle.

Just curve.


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The saree had shifted slightly.

Pallu still over my shoulder.

But pleats?

Too tight now.

Hugging belly like cling film.


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And my navel?

It was showing.

Small.

Deep.

Soft line between blouse and pleat.


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I turned my head slowly.

Looked at him.

Saw it.


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His eyes.

Exactly where I thought.

Not on face.

Not on foot.


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Right at the hip.

That skin.

That line.

That belly.


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Like bee looking at sugar.


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I clicked tongue.

“Hello.”

He looked up.

“Yes madam.”

“Your eyes are going there no?”


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“No madam…”

“Liar. Just now you were doing full sightseeing.”


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“No madam, I was just—”

“You want to touch ah?”


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He froze.


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I said it again.

Louder.

“You want to touch my hip and navel area?”


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He looked down again.

Didn’t answer.

Didn’t deny.

Didn’t run.


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I waited.

Arms crossed.

Brows up.

Just staring.


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Then finally—

He nodded.

Small.

One single nod.


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Like collegeboy caught cheating.

Like dog asking permission.


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I smiled.

Slight.

But sharp.


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Not kind smile.

Not warm smile.


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That naughty one.

The one I use when shopkeeper overcharges.


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“Go then.”

He blinked.

“What?”

I pointed down.

Right at the hip curve.

That spot where saree was gripping tight.


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“Go and touch.”


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He hesitated.

But his hand?

It moved.

Slow.

Quiet.

Scared.

Hungry.


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Like it was listening more to cock than to brain.


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And I?

I just stood.


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One hand resting on hip.

Other still pointing.


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My belly?

Already tingling.

Waiting.

Calling.


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But my face?

Still blank.

Still calm.

Still top position.


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And his fingers?

They were coming closer.


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His hand…

It was coming.

Closer.

Not fast.

Not jumping.

Just quiet.

Like it knew the way.


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Like some magnet.

Pulling toward my skin.

Soft pull.

From air.

From heat.

From… somewhere deeper.


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And me?

I stood still.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t twitch.

Just watched.

Let it come.


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Let it reach —

One inch…

Then one more…

Then just two inches away…

Then—

SLAP!


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Not his cheek.

Not his face.

Just his hand.

A sharp one.

Open palm.

Straight on the fingers.


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I blocked it.

Hard.

Fast.

“ENNNNNNH!”

That snap.

Like angry teacher catching naughty boy.


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He froze.

Mid-air.

Hand paused.

Eyes wide.

Mouth slightly open.


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“I told you to touch…”

My voice was sharp.

Low.

Scolding.

“…so immediately you come forward, ah?”


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His face?

Confused.

Like baby monkey who lost tree.

“M-Madam… you only said…”


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“Ohhh I said. So you’ll do everything I say ah?”

His mouth moved.

“I thought—”

“You don’t think. You’re not genius.”


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“…Sorry madam…”

His hand was still raised.

Frozen.

Like statue in museum.


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I gave one small push.

Not big.

Just flicked my wrist and moved his arm.

But inside my palm?

Ayyo.

That forearm.

Like rock.


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I had to give effort to push.

Not joking effort.

Real one.

One full bangle shifted from my wrist.


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“Your hand is made of rock or what?”

I asked.

But I grinned.

A bit.

Couldn’t help it.


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He didn’t reply.

Just stood.

Looking.

Lost.

Like student without textbook.


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And I?

I laughed.

Real one.

Not giggle.

Not nervous.

Proper full laugh.


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“Scared?” I asked.

Still laughing.

“You don’t even know if I’m joking or not.”


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He looked down.

“I don’t understand, madam…”

“Of course you don’t. That’s why you’re like this.”

“I thought you were serious…”


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“You thought ah?”

I raised both eyebrows.

“Next time I say jump from terrace, you’ll also go flying?”

“No madam…”


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I turned.

One half-circle.

Hair moved over my shoulder.

Pallu shifted.

One soft fold dropped near hip.


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He didn’t blink.

Still watching.

Still standing.

Breathing quiet.

But stiff.


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I pointed.

One sharp finger.

“Tell me one thing.”

“Yes madam…”


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“If I say touch… you’ll touch me?”

He didn’t speak.

Just blinked.

Once.

Twice.


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I stepped closer.

Neck tilted.

Eyebrows raised.

Eyes focused.

“Did you hear or you became deaf now?”


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He nodded.

Small nod.

One time.

“Ahh. So you will touch.”

“I thought… you allowed…”


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I clapped.

Sharp.

Echo in kitchen.

“Ohhh so now you need permission also properly stamped ah?”

“No madam… just…”

“Shhh. Don’t explain.”


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“You said yes. So now touch again.”

He blinked.

Once.

“Touch again.”


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His hand moved.

Again.

Same direction.

Same rhythm.

Slower.

Obedient.

Like he’d learned.


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I waited.

Just watched.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.


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When it came near—

SMACK!

My fingers struck his again.

He jumped.

Eyes big.


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“Ah ah ahhh…” I sang.

Like teasing.

Mocking.

“Not so easy.”


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“Madam…”

He started.

“Every time you move hand, I’ll block.”

“Why, madam?”


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“I don’t know.”

I smiled.

Sideways.

Crooked.

“Maybe I’m mad today.”


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He didn’t speak.

Then I leaned closer.

Softer voice.

Mocking again.

“You got excited no?”


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He looked away.

“No madam…”

“Lie again, I’ll slap mouth also.”

He looked down.


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“I was just doing what you said…”

I faced him full.

No teasing now.

Body close.

Breath soft.


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“You like this game?”

No reply.

Again I asked.

“You enjoy when I tease and stop?”

“…Little…”


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I slapped his arm.

Not hard.

Just enough to sting.

“Aaah! Dirty fellow.”

“Sorry madam…”


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“So you’re getting full fun standing and waiting to touch me?”

“No madam… I’m getting confused.”

“Confused? Then shall I draw instruction on paper?”


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He looked up.

Voice soft.

“Please tell what you want, madam.”


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“What I want?”

“Yes madam…”

I pointed at my hip.

One finger.

Slow.

“My waist is here.”

“Yes madam.”

“My navel is just above.”

“Yes madam.”

“You want to touch?”

He swallowed.

Nodded.


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


“Then touch.”

His hand rose.

Slower now.

Serious.

Not excited.

Not playful.

Just… quiet.


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


My heart?

It had started.

Beating fuller.

Faster.

But face?

Still calm.

Still queen.


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


“Come on then.”

I said it soft.

Almost whisper.


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


His hand came closer.

Near.

Nearer.

Right there.


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


I moved palm.

Tried to stop.

“Enough. Wait.”


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


But he didn’t fully stop.

Didn’t go back.


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


His hand came close.

Too close.

Then—

It touched.


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


Palm resting.

Flat.

Soft.

Right on the hip.


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


No grab.

No rub.

Just… resting.

Skin on skin, through the cloth.


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


Warm.

Wide.

Quiet.


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


Right under the pleats.

Right where curve becomes softness.

Right where nothing ever touched before.


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


And me?

I didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

Only breath caught.

Paused.

Held.


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


Because inside me…

That moment…

My pussy…

It pulsed.


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


His hand was still there.

Still on my hip.

Still warm.

Still resting.

Not squeezing.

Not rubbing.

Just… there.


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


Like some prayer hand.

Like it belonged there.

Like my skin was waiting for it.

And my body?

Ayyo. My body was behaving like full idiot.


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


That soft palm — sitting on the curve —

Right on the side.

On that small soft slope just before ass begins.

Even though it wasn’t moving,

My thighs were.

Slight pressure.

Just one small clench.

But I felt it.

Fully.


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


I took breath.

Slow.

One deep one.

Chest lifted softly.

And then —

I slapped.

Not hard.

Just firm.

Right on his hand.


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


It moved.

Easily.

Flew away like paper.

Earlier it was like rock.

Now?

Now it was like his hand was remote-controlled by my palm.


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


I folded my arms.

Raised one eyebrow.

Gave full headmistress tone.

“Hmmmm… becoming bold now, ah?”


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


He looked.

Not scared.

Not brave.

Just silent.

Like he was… watching instructions.

Reading face.


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


“Before you were shivering if I raised voice.”

“Now what? Touching my hip also?”

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t nod.

Didn’t flinch.

Just stood.

“Hero ah?” I snapped.

“No madam…”

“Then why hand came like parcel?”

“I didn’t mean—”


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


“Didn’t mean?”

I stepped forward.

One inch only.

But now —

Now his breath was touching my collarbone.


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


Warm.

Male.

That mix — sweat, cotton cloth, and something… his own skin.

It hit my nose like slow spice.

Made something flutter deep under my ribs.


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


I raised my eyebrows higher.

“You touched my hip. Even when I’m stopping you.”

He opened his mouth—

PAKK!


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


Tight slap.

Right cheek again.

Louder than before.

One loud click in the room.

His head turned slightly.

Just a little.

But body?

Didn’t move.

Didn’t step back.

Didn’t shake.


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


Like that slap…

Wasn’t even punishment.

Like it was some love-tap.

One blessing.


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


He stood there.

Eyes looking down.

Cock still bulging.

Still pressing against pant cloth.

Still thick.

Still waiting.


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


I clicked tongue.

Soft.

But scolding.

“What kind of fellow are you?”

He didn’t reply.

Just stood.

Like he wanted me to decide who he was.


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


“You get scolding, you say ‘yes madam.’”

“You get slap, you say nothing.”

“What next?”

“I put chappal on your head, you’ll say thank you?”


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


He dipped his head.

Soft.

Slow.

“I’m sorry, madam…”


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


I smirked.

Not smile.

That naughty one.

“You’re enjoying this no?”

“No madam…”

“You are.”

“I can see in your pant.”


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


“That thing is standing like cucumber in Sunday market.”

He blinked.

Eyes slightly shy.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t say sorry. Say truth.”

“You’re waiting for next touch only.”


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


“No madam… I…”

“Then show me guts.”

He looked up.

Hesitated.

Breath slow.

Eyes watching me.

Like trying to check if this is real.


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


I raised my chin.

“Touch again.”

He swallowed.

Then slowly…

He lifted his hand.


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


But this time…

It wasn’t going to side.

Not to hip.

Not to curve.

It was coming to centre.

Straight.

Dead centre.


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


Toward my belly.

I blinked.

Brows lifted.

“Hello?”

“Where is your magnet pointing now?”


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


He didn’t speak.

Didn’t explain.

Didn’t stop.

His hand…

It was hovering.

Just above the saree pleats.


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


Not touching.

Just nearing.

I moved slightly.

Shifted weight.

Tried to push his wrist.

One soft shove.

“Oi… I said hip, not stomach…”


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


But this time—

His hand didn’t obey.

Didn’t stop.

Didn’t pull back.


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


It came closer.

Closer.

His fingers touched pleats.

And then—

Moved them.

One small tug.


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


Just from one side.

My pallu was still on shoulder.

But bottom folds?

Shifted.

Spread slightly.

Opened.


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


My navel—

It was visible.

Bare.

That tiny middle dip.

That small round skin hollow.

Now fully open.


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


I gasped.

Small.

Not loud.

But chest moved.

Breath paused.

He was watching.

Not blinking.

Not speaking.

Just… watching.


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


Then—

He touched.

Right there.

Right on it.

His fingertips rested gently in my navel.


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


Not hard.

Not pressing.

Just… sat there.

As if my body was bowl.

And he was placing coin inside.


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


I froze.

One second.

Everything stopped.

My knees.

My neck.

Even breath.


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


Because from that touch…

That tiny spot…

Something spread.

Soft.

Warm.

Round.


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


Like wave.

Like ripple.

Right down.

Through lower belly.

Into thighs.

Through panty.


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


But it didn’t stop.

His thumb moved.

Rubbed.

Slow.

Small circle.

Then—

He squeezed.


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


Not harsh.

Not playful.

Firm.

Direct.

All five fingers.

Right around my navel rim.

Like holding tiny cup.

Like claiming.


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


And my mouth—

Without warning—

It broke.

One heavy moan.

Loud.

Wet.

From deep inside stomach.

“Auhhhh—hh…”


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


I bit my lip.

Too late.