19-08-2025, 05:20 PM
Chapter 36: Slipping Flames
The office weeks blended into a haze of charged glances and whispered temptations, Nivi's presence a flame that drew the team like moths, her kurtis tracing her breasts' curves just enough to tease, leggings hugging her hips, ass swaying with a power that turned heads. Raghavan's absence stretched longer, his rare calls brief—voice low, promising "soon," but no visits, leaving her aching for his commanding touch.
Fuck, he's gone too long—his eyes on my tits, his growls owning me, she thought, her body heating as she worked, thighs brushing together. Without him, my fire's wild, uncontrolled—Mohan's advances hitting harder, testing me. The uncertainty fueled a naughty edge: He owns my submission, but this void... it's letting the flames slip, making me stumble.
Mohan's pursuit escalated, hints of his activity weaving through the days—a "helpful" hand on her lower back during a file handoff, his breath warm as he leaned in. "Nivi, you make these reports exciting," he'd say, voice low, playful but hungry, eyes lingering on her ass as she walked away.
Fuck, he's relentless—brushing me, staring like he wants to claim, she thought, her body sparking, ass shifting to tease despite herself. Raghavan's not here to anchor me—my fire's responding, slipping a little.
Another hint came in a late meeting, Mohan claiming the seat beside her, knee pressing hers under the table, his hand grazing her thigh as he passed a pen. "You got this, Nivi—your ideas are fire," he'd tease, voice naughty, eyes on her lips.
The gang didn't notice, but she did—his touch lingering, bold. Fuck, he's pushing—thigh graze, implying more, she thought, her body warming, thighs not pulling away fast enough. Without Raghavan, I stumble—allowing too much, my fire wild.
One evening, Mohan offered a ride home after overtime, his car close, hand on her arm as he opened the door. "Nivi, bus is late—let me drop you; we can talk," he said, voice casual but eyes intense. Fuck, he's close—arm touch, wanting time alone, she thought, her body tingling, ass brushing his as she got in, a slip she didn't correct. Raghavan's absence aches—Mohan's flame tempts, and I'm stumbling, letting it burn closer.
Nivi tried to control it—teasing back subtle, voice sultry but firm— but slips happened, her fire wild without Raghavan's hold. Fuck, he's not here, and Mohan's advances... I'm allowing more, stumbling into the heat, she thought, a naughty guilt mixing with thrill. The chapter closed on her restless night, flames slipping, Raghavan's return a distant promise.
Continues...
The office weeks blended into a haze of charged glances and whispered temptations, Nivi's presence a flame that drew the team like moths, her kurtis tracing her breasts' curves just enough to tease, leggings hugging her hips, ass swaying with a power that turned heads. Raghavan's absence stretched longer, his rare calls brief—voice low, promising "soon," but no visits, leaving her aching for his commanding touch.
Fuck, he's gone too long—his eyes on my tits, his growls owning me, she thought, her body heating as she worked, thighs brushing together. Without him, my fire's wild, uncontrolled—Mohan's advances hitting harder, testing me. The uncertainty fueled a naughty edge: He owns my submission, but this void... it's letting the flames slip, making me stumble.
Mohan's pursuit escalated, hints of his activity weaving through the days—a "helpful" hand on her lower back during a file handoff, his breath warm as he leaned in. "Nivi, you make these reports exciting," he'd say, voice low, playful but hungry, eyes lingering on her ass as she walked away.
Fuck, he's relentless—brushing me, staring like he wants to claim, she thought, her body sparking, ass shifting to tease despite herself. Raghavan's not here to anchor me—my fire's responding, slipping a little.
Another hint came in a late meeting, Mohan claiming the seat beside her, knee pressing hers under the table, his hand grazing her thigh as he passed a pen. "You got this, Nivi—your ideas are fire," he'd tease, voice naughty, eyes on her lips.
The gang didn't notice, but she did—his touch lingering, bold. Fuck, he's pushing—thigh graze, implying more, she thought, her body warming, thighs not pulling away fast enough. Without Raghavan, I stumble—allowing too much, my fire wild.
One evening, Mohan offered a ride home after overtime, his car close, hand on her arm as he opened the door. "Nivi, bus is late—let me drop you; we can talk," he said, voice casual but eyes intense. Fuck, he's close—arm touch, wanting time alone, she thought, her body tingling, ass brushing his as she got in, a slip she didn't correct. Raghavan's absence aches—Mohan's flame tempts, and I'm stumbling, letting it burn closer.
Nivi tried to control it—teasing back subtle, voice sultry but firm— but slips happened, her fire wild without Raghavan's hold. Fuck, he's not here, and Mohan's advances... I'm allowing more, stumbling into the heat, she thought, a naughty guilt mixing with thrill. The chapter closed on her restless night, flames slipping, Raghavan's return a distant promise.
Continues...
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