Adultery The Language of Her Heart

[yazhiniram]

Another lick.

Just like that.

But this one…

Stronger.

Different.

Heavier.


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I felt it the second it started.

Not like before.

This was not soft.

Not shy.


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That hot, wet drag of his tongue—

It landed.

Firmly.

Confidently.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing.


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This time, it started lower.

Not on the pussy lips.

Not there.

But just above.

Right in between.


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That small patch of skin.

That flat, quiet space.

Between the pussy and the asshole.

That hidden zone.


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Right there.

Where the nerves live quietly.

Sleeping.

Until now.


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He started from that.

Right from that middle.

That untouched place.

The forgotten spot.


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“nooo…” I whispered.

Mouth barely moving.

“This guy…”

My breath was tight.

My chest trembling.


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The tongue came up.

Slowly.

Not rushing.

Not darting.

Just rising.


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Not touching the pussy.

But brushing close.

Too close.

Dangerously close.


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My thighs trembled.

Both sides.

Quivering like scared animal.

Not from fear.

But from that trembling heat.


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“Eh… Prakash…”

I warned softly.

Voice weak.

Legs weaker.

“Don’t go too wild…”


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Still no answer.

Not even one sound.

Only his breath.

And his tongue.


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His tongue went higher.

Steady.

Sure.

Climbing that groove.


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One long stroke.

From bottom to top.

Upward.

Over the soft, tight skin.


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Then it landed.

Right at the asshole.

Right there.


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“AAHHH!” I cried.

Loud.

Sharp.

“haaaa!”

My body jumped.


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That spot—

Already licked once.

Now again.

But deeper.


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Wetter.

Hotter.

His tongue felt heavy now.

Full of purpose.


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I clutched the mattress tighter.

My fingers wrapped the sheet.

Tense.

Clawing.


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My knees pressed.

Trying to stay upright.

Trying not to fall.


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My mouth opened—

But no words came.

Only sound.

Only breath.

Only rawness.


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“Ahhhhhh… aiyyyaaaa… uhhh…”

The sounds spilled.

Like milk from overboiled pot.

Messy.

Hot.

Unstoppable.


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His tongue paused.

Right there.

Right on that small, puckered point.

Not moving now.

Just resting.


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And I was melting.

Fully.

Like sugar on hot plate.


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No pride.

No scolding.

No words.

Just one shaking woman.


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Bent forward.

Like heat-struck cow.

Bare backside out.

Shivering.


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Then—

The tongue went up again.

Another stroke.

Slow.


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Over the crack.

That private line.

Climbing higher.


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Past the asshole.

Over the curve of cheek.

Upward.

Rising.


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Till the top of the ass line.

That upper end.

That soft finish.


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Then—

It came down.

Slowly.

One slow return stroke.


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Downward.

Dragging.

Like his tongue was painting.


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Painting something with spit.

With heat.

With madness.


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“Godddddd…” I moaned into the bed.

Face pressed down.

“Mad… this is mad…”


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It ended exactly where it started.

At the asshole.

Full circle.

One complete stroke.


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And stayed there.

No movement.

No leaving.

Just stillness.


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He didn’t speak.

I didn’t move.


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My body?

Buzzing.

Like live wire.

Sharp.

Tingling.


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My pussy was dripping.

I could feel it.

Sticky heat.

Running slowly.


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And he hadn’t even touched it.

Not once.

Not yet.


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He took his face back slightly.

Lifted it.

I exhaled.

Big breath.


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Then—

THUPP.

One small sound.


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His hand.

Slapping my ass cheek.

Not hard.

Not angry.


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Just a soft, open-palmed, lovely slap.

Like how you pat soft bread.

Fresh bread.

Puffy bread.


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I twisted slightly.

Neck turned.

“Now what’s this…”

I whispered.

Voice lazy.


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“Slapping like I’m your. .. …”

Still no reply.

Only breath.

Only body.


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Then I heard it.

Khkhkh…

That throat-clearing sound.

Wet.

Warning.


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“Eh…” I muttered.

Nervous.

Unsure.

“Don’t you dare…”


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He made that spitting sound.

Thick one.

Sticky one.

Wet.


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“PRakash!” I shouted.

High-pitched.

“Don’t act like insane!”


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Too late.

SPIT.

Right there.

Right on my asshole.


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I gasped.

Mouth wide.

Back straightened.

“noooo!”


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The chill.

That sudden splash of cold spit—

Landing exactly on the most hot, tingling part of me.


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It hit like ice.

Wet ice.

Mad ice.


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I jerked.

My spine curved.

Toes curled.

Hands grabbed sheet tighter.


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“HeyI! You spat?!”

I shouted.

Voice full confusion.

Full heat.


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He didn’t answer.

But I could feel him there.

Face close again.

Closer.


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And next second—

LICK.

From bottom to up.


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One full lick.

Over the spit.

Over the wet skin.


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One slow stroke.

Tongue sliding across coldness.

Blending the hot and cold.


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And me?

I broke.

I melted.

I moaned.


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“Ahhh… ahhh… ahhh…”

I moaned.

Loud.

Ugly.

Full.


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Like my body had become instrument.

Playing one mad song.


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I wasn't talking anymore.

Just moaning.

Just shaking.

Just breathing.

Waiting.

Waiting for the next one.


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He moved back slightly.

Just one step.

Only one.

But I felt it.

Fully.


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That warmth behind me—

It disappeared.

Gone in one breath.

One second.


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I blinked.

Once.

Then again.

Suddenly there was air.

Cool air.


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On my backside.

Still wet.

Still open.

Still tingling.


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Then—

His hands came.

Quickly.

Suddenly.

From the sides.


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They held both my arms.

Strong grip.

Full hold.

Not tight.

Not cruel.

But steady.


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Then slowly—

He lifted me.

Guided me.

Pulled me upward.


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From that bent position.

From that folded pose.

He made me stand.

Straight.


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My knees shook slightly.

Trembled like young calf.

But I stood.

Somehow.


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Chest rising.

Up and down.

Heavy.

Rushed.


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Backside still tingling.

Still stinging.

Still burning.

Still open to air.


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Hair stuck to my cheek.

One strand.

Maybe two.

Sweaty.

Ticklish.


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Then—

He turned me.

One sudden twirl.

Fast.

Unexpected.


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Again.

Another spin.

This man was not done spinning me.


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Now I was facing him.

Face to face.

Fully.

Nothing hidden.


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Except My breasts in bra—

They rose.

Then fell.

Then rose again.


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My lips were open.

Mouth parted.

No words.

Only breath.

Only heat.


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And before I could speak—

PAK.


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He slapped me.

Right across my cheek.

Sudden.

Real.


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I jerked.

Head turned.

Eyes wide.

Very wide.


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Not hard like the ass slaps.

Not like those.

But still real.


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Real enough to sting.

Sharp.

Direct.

One clean line.


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My jaw tilted.

Slightly sideways.

Neck moved.

Like pulled by string.


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Hair bounced.

A little messy wave.

Back to my shoulder.

Back to my face.


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“WHAT THE—”

I started.

Mouth open.

Shocked.

But he interrupted.


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“This what you want, right, Pavitra?”

His voice.

Low.

Serious.

Still.


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My mouth stayed half open.

Like stuck.

Frozen.


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He was looking at me.

Eyes locked.

No smile.

No softness.


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“Tell me,” he said.

Again.

“Right?”

One word.

One question.


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I swallowed.

Quietly.

Slowly.

Even that felt difficult.


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His hand—

Had just been inside my panty.

Just now.


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His tongue—

Had just been inside my ass.

Ten seconds ago.


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And now?

He was slapping me.

On the face.

Open.

Raw.


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And I was…

Standing.

Still.


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Not fighting.

Not running.

Just standing.

Breathing.


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It hurt.

Yes.

That slap.

It had power.


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It left a line on my cheek.

Like memory.

Hot.

Real.


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But under the sting…

There was something else.

A small thrill.


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That strange, twisting warmth.

The one that comes when someone shows boldness.

True boldness.


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And I couldn’t say no.

Not really.

So I didn’t say anything.

Nothing at all.


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Just stood.

Still.

Silent.

Breathing.


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Then—

PAK.

Second slap.


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Opposite cheek.

Opposite sting.

Opposite heat.


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My head jerked again.

Sharp.

Quick.


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My eyes closed.

Automatically.

Tight squeeze.


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And this time—

I nodded.

Once.

Small.

Barely visible.


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But he saw it.

He caught it.


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“Good,” he said.

Just that.

Then softer.

“Come closer to me.”


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I didn’t move.

Not at first.

My legs refused.


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But he stepped in.

One step.

No waiting.


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Now I could feel him.

Again.

The heat from his chest.

The breath from his nostrils.


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The press of his thigh near mine.

Almost touching.

Almost melting.


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Then—

His face came closer.

Bit by bit.

My breath caught.


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I froze.

Completely.

Just stood there.

Staring.

Waiting.


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His lips—

They were coming closer to mine.

Inches now.

Just inches.


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Closer…

Closer…

One breath away.


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I could smell him.

That smell—

Raw.

Male.

Human.


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Old sweat.

Faint cigarette.

That unwashed-shirt smell.


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That half-unclean.

Half-male.

Mouth-smell.


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And some part of me…

Liked it.

Without shame.

Without sense.


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It was wrong.

It was raw.

But it was him.

It was real.


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Then—

He kissed me.

For the first time.


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His mouth.

On mine.

Full contact.


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His lips—

Just ten seconds ago—

They were on my asshole.


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Now—

Inside my mouth.

Wet.

Warm.

Open.


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And I didn’t pull back.

Not even a little.

Not even an inch.


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After that kiss…

That wild, unthinkable kiss…

His lips finally left mine.

Gently.

Suddenly.

Quietly.


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I was still breathing hard.

Mouth open.

Chest moving.

Everything inside me shaken.

Everything outside me hot.


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Still confused.

Still pulsing.

Still not believing.

That his lips were just now—

On my mouth.

After being on… there.


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His face moved slightly back.

Only a little.

Enough for breath to enter between us.

But his eyes?

His eyes stayed.


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Right on me.

Right on my face.

Right on my lips.

Like something was still unfinished.


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Then—

His hands moved up.

Slow.

Both sides.

Softly rising.

Not sudden.

Not rough.


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They slid over my waist.

Slow drag.

His fingers traced the curves.

They passed my sides.

They reached my ribs.


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Then higher.

To the bra line.

That edge of cloth.

That tight strap.

He stopped there.


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On the cups.

Right over them.

His palms resting.

Warm.

Still.


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“Eh—” I said immediately.

One hand came up.

I slapped his wrist.

Lightly.

But sharp.

“Don’t touch that!”


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He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.


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“Listen,” I said sharply.

Finger pointing.

Voice scolding.

“This bra is not cheap, okay?”


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He kept staring.

Eyes on mine.

No reply.

Not one word.


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“It’s costly,” I said.

Chin raised.

Defensive.

“One of my costliest.”


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Still nothing.

Still silence.

Still hands resting.


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“I’m serious, Prakash.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“I’m not joking.”

“One bra cost more than your full month’s salary.”


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His hand didn’t move.

Still sitting on my breast.

Like statue.

Like wall.


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“You think you can break this? Like panty?”

My eyebrows lifted.

“No way.”

“You tear it—I’ll tear you.”


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Still nothing.

Still that quiet, slow defiance.


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



Then—

His hand slid behind me.

Smooth.

Like thief hand.

To the hook.


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



“Eh. EHH!”

I shouted.

Real now.

My voice jumped.


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



“Don’t even THINK about it!”

My body twisted.

Shoulder leaned.

Elbow blocking.


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



“PRakash, I’m not joking!”

“This is TIGHT HOOK, you’ll damage it!”


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



He didn’t speak.

Didn’t reply.

Didn’t even nod.


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



His fingers started working.

Clumsy at first.

Guessing.

Feeling.


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



I gasped.

My spine tensed.

My belly tightened.


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



“Hey! Don’t pull blindly—”

“One wrong move and underwire will poke my heart!”


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



Still he didn’t speak.

Still his fingers played.

Still the bra held.

For now.


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



Now I was full shouting.

Real volume.

Angry.

Afraid.


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



“STOP IT I SAID!”

“I’ll remove!”

“I’ll remove myself, wait!”


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



Still no reply.

Just tugging.

Just testing.


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



I could feel his fingers on the back hook.

Fumbling.

Jerking.


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



He didn’t even know the clip style.

This fool was guessing.


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



“Idiot!” I shouted.

“You think all bras have same hook?”

“This is triple-layered!”


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



Then—

In one sudden move—

PULL.


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



The bra came off.

Just like that.

Clean.

Total.


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



My eyes went wide.

Mouth opened.

Shocked.


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



“AYYYYYY!” I yelled.

Loud.

Wild.

“How?!”

“You what?!”


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



He didn’t answer.

Didn’t even smirk.

Just held the bra.

In one hand.


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



Not torn.

Not broken.

Just… removed.

Fully.


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



He held it like trophy.

Like prize.

Like conquered thing.


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



Then—

With no respect—

He threw it.


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



Like it was some old rag cloth.

Like it had no value.

No memory.


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



It flew.

Floated.

Then hit the corner wall.

Then fell.

Onto the floor.

Silent.


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



And me?

I was standing.

Bare.

Fully.

Completely.


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



Naked.

In front of my building's security guard.


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



Fully nude.

In daylight.

In open air.


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



I looked down.

Slowly.


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



My breasts — full, heavy, brown — were right there.

Right in the open.


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



Backside still tingling.

Thighs slightly wet.

Hair messy.


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



Lips swollen.

Chest red.

Face dazed.


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



And him?

He didn’t wait.


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



He leaned forward.

One step.

No warning.

No asking.


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



And put his mouth…

Directly on my breast.

One side.


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



That wet, strong mouth.

Just moments ago, it was on my ass.

Now—

On my nipple.


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



“Heyyyyy!” I shouted.

“What you’re doing—mad dog ah?!”


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



He didn’t answer.

His tongue circled.

Slow.

Sticky.

Warm.


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



Then sucked.

Deep.

Full.

Sharp inhale of my skin.


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



My knees bent slightly.

Unsteady.


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



“aaahhhhhh…” I groaned.

My head tilted.

Back arched.


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



At the same time—

His other hand…

Came up.

Reached the other boob.


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



Full grip.

Fingers wide.


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



“Not like that!” I scolded.

Breathless.

Confused.

“It’s not dough!”


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



But he was squeezing.

Firmly.

Pressing.

Owning.


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



Kneading.

Like parotta dough.

Warm palms rotating.


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



Thumb pressing the side curve.

Flattening.

Spreading.

Massaging.


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



I moaned.

Eyes shut.

Skin trembling.


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



But also—

“IDIOT,” I hissed.

Through teeth.

“You can't eat fully…”


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



Still he didn’t stop.

Mouth on one.

Hand on other.

And me?


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



Just standing.

Naked.

Owned.

Breathing like steam pipe.


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



He moved.

His body shifted.

Just a little.

But I felt it.

All of it.


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



His mouth—

Wet.

Hungry.

Warm.

It left the first boob.

Just lifted away.


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



A small pull.

A soft sound.

A tiny smack of suction.

Gone.

Off.


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



And without even asking,

Without even pausing,

He switched.


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



To the other side.

One smooth shift.

No announcement.


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



His lips landed.

Right on my second breast.

That untouched one.


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



Fresh.

Unbitten.

Unfelt till now.

Clean and warm and waiting.


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



“Aaaah…” I moaned low.

Neck tilted.

Lips parted.

“Again ah…”

My voice was weak.

Playful.


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



“You can’t milk me…”

I said it soft.

But it came out hot.

Like whisper inside fire.


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



At the same time—

His free hand—

That greedy one—

It moved across.


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



Now holding the first one.

Again.

Still soft from sucking.

Now grabbed again.


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



Both my breasts—

Under attack.

Taken.

Owned.


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



One by tongue.

One by palm.

His mouth hot.

His hand heavier.


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



He sucked the nipple.

Properly.

With full force.


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



Full mouth sealed.

Like vacuum.

Like clamp.


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



“Oye…”

I groaned.

Back arching.

“Don’t eat it like ice candy…”


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



His tongue flicked.

Quick circles.

Smooth.

Fast.

Swirling on the tip.


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



I was shaking.

Fully.

From spine to toes.


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



My chest bounced.

Up and down.

Side to side.

His mouth dragging it.


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



Hair falling over my face.

Strands sticking to cheek.

Some near my lips.


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



My body?

Gone.

Out of control.

Swaying.


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



My pussy?

Wet.

Dripping.


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



Leaking like broken tap.

Warm trails sliding down.


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



I couldn’t stop moving.

Hips twitching.

Thighs rubbing.


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



Back arched.

Toes curling.

My whole shape trembling.


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



“Prakash…”

I whispered.

Soft.

Like prayer.

Like begging.


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



He didn’t reply.

Nothing.

Just sucked harder.

Like challenge.


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



Then—

He stood up.

Suddenly.

Mouth pulled away.


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



My breast shivered from the release.

My skin felt cold there.


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



His mouth shiny.

Lips wet.

Chin gleaming.


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



He was breathing deep.

Like he had done workout.

Like he had claimed something.


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



I thought maybe he’ll calm down now.

Maybe it’s enough.

Maybe.


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



Instead—

THWACK.

His palm slapped my breast.


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



“AAAIYEEE!”

I screamed.

Full volume.


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



The whole boob shook.

Jiggled.

Bounced.


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



Pain—

Straight from the skin to my ribs.

A hot line.


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



“Heyyyy!” I shouted.

Loud.

Angry.

“What you doing?! Are you mad?!”


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



Still no words.

Still no expression.

Just breath.

And hands.


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



THWACK.

Second slap.

Other boob.

Harder.


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



I cried out.

Neck bent back.

Chest jolted.


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



Hands slapped the air.

Reflex.

Pain rising.


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



“STOP IT!”

I yelled.

Spit flying.

Throat shaking.


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



“I said ENOUGH!”

But still he didn’t stop.

Not yet.


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



My boobs were full red now.

Stinging.

Throbbing.

Full heat.


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



I tried to turn.

To twist away.

Escape.


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



He held my waist.

Gripped it firm.

Kept me.


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



Then—

His fingers came up.

To my nipple.


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



And twisted.

Hard.

Sharp.

Mean.


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



“AAAHHHHH nooo!”

I screamed.

Bent forward.


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



“NOT LIKE THAT!”

Voice cracked.

Full crying.


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



He kept turning.

Like opening bottle cap.

Tight lid.


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



“WHAT are you trying to do?!”

I shouted.

Still burning.


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



Still no mercy.

Fingers gripping tight.

Thumb and finger—

Turning.

Pinching.

Twisting that sensitive tip.


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



Pain climbing.

Rising.

Building.


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



But pleasure…

Also rising.

Curling.

Mixing.


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



My knees bent.

Legs buckling.

My mouth opened.

Wider.


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



Tears at corner of eye.

Wet.

Salty.

Shaking.


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



“PRakash!”

I cried.

“Stop! Stop it!”

Begging now.


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



He moved again.

To the other breast.

Same grip.

Same pressure.

Same twisting.


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



“NOOOO—!”

I shouted.

“Too much!”

“That side also burning!”


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



Still he did.

Still he twisted.

Still he played.


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



My hips buckled.

I was dropping.

Losing balance.


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



“Heyyy… ENOUGH!”

“It’s TOO MUCH!”


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



I slapped his shoulder.

Weak.

Light.

Desperate.


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



“Just leave it… please…”

“I’ll fall…”


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



Then he stopped.

Finally.

His hand let go.

Relief.


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



And I breathed.

Heavy.

Long.

Full chest.


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



But before I could even speak—

He raised his hand.

Fast.


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



PAK.

One slap.

Right on my cheek.


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



My face turned.

Sharp.

My neck jerked.


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



Then—

He spoke.

Low.

Clear.

Firm.

Right in front of my face.


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



“Don’t order me, Pavitra.”