31-08-2025, 05:15 PM
Her laugh was soft, but tinged with an awkward edge, unlike before.
Her eyes dropped to her bare body, and suddenly she became acutely aware of her nakedness.
One arm crossed protectively over her breasts, the other drifted lower, shielding her womanhood.
Yet even in that modest gesture, her fingertips brushed against the lingering wetness, and a deep warmth rippled through her, betraying her restraint.
Ravi’s gaze softened, though amusement still glimmered in his eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper, playful yet edged with something more dangerous, more deliberate.
Ravi: “Shameless? Maybe. But you didn’t seem to mind.”
He caught her wrist gently, pulling her hand away from her breasts.
Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed them, tasting her with deliberate slowness.
Her eyes widened, her breath catching as a rush of color spread across her cheeks.
Despite herself, Sirisha blushed, caught between embarrassment and desire.
She shifted slightly to the side, clinging to the last threads of her pride, even as the invisible current between them grew stronger.
Sirisha: “I did mind, Bhayya. But you didn’t stop. You’re the one who pulled off my shorts and panties—even when I tried to stop you. I should complain to Neetu Bhabhi… you made me lose all my clothes.”
Ravi’s eyes gleamed, amusement flickering with something darker.
Still savoring the taste of her on his lips, he leaned back against the couch with casual arrogance, watching her with growing interest.
Ravi: “Then complain to Neetu Bhabhi tomorrow—at our Threesome Rasmalai Party. Maybe this time, she’ll be the one to undress you.”
His laugh was low, teasing, almost mocking.
Sirisha: “No, Bhayya. I don’t think Bhabhi is like you… You’re the shameless one.”
Ravi: “You didn’t protest either. You’re not as shy as you pretend to be.”
The tension refused to fade. It lingered in the air like static, every glance and gesture threatening to pull them back into the fire they had only just stepped away from.
At last, Sirisha slipped her hand free from his, her damp fingers brushing against his lips one final time.
Then she rose, her movements slow, her body still trembling from the storm of emotions that coursed through her.
She walked toward the small pile of discarded clothes, her silhouette illuminated in the dim light
A figure both vulnerable and defiant, glowing as though the room itself was reluctant to let her go.
Her eyes dropped to her bare body, and suddenly she became acutely aware of her nakedness.
One arm crossed protectively over her breasts, the other drifted lower, shielding her womanhood.
Yet even in that modest gesture, her fingertips brushed against the lingering wetness, and a deep warmth rippled through her, betraying her restraint.
Ravi’s gaze softened, though amusement still glimmered in his eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper, playful yet edged with something more dangerous, more deliberate.
Ravi: “Shameless? Maybe. But you didn’t seem to mind.”
He caught her wrist gently, pulling her hand away from her breasts.
Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed them, tasting her with deliberate slowness.
Her eyes widened, her breath catching as a rush of color spread across her cheeks.
Despite herself, Sirisha blushed, caught between embarrassment and desire.
She shifted slightly to the side, clinging to the last threads of her pride, even as the invisible current between them grew stronger.
Sirisha: “I did mind, Bhayya. But you didn’t stop. You’re the one who pulled off my shorts and panties—even when I tried to stop you. I should complain to Neetu Bhabhi… you made me lose all my clothes.”
Ravi’s eyes gleamed, amusement flickering with something darker.
Still savoring the taste of her on his lips, he leaned back against the couch with casual arrogance, watching her with growing interest.
Ravi: “Then complain to Neetu Bhabhi tomorrow—at our Threesome Rasmalai Party. Maybe this time, she’ll be the one to undress you.”
His laugh was low, teasing, almost mocking.
Sirisha: “No, Bhayya. I don’t think Bhabhi is like you… You’re the shameless one.”
Ravi: “You didn’t protest either. You’re not as shy as you pretend to be.”
The tension refused to fade. It lingered in the air like static, every glance and gesture threatening to pull them back into the fire they had only just stepped away from.
At last, Sirisha slipped her hand free from his, her damp fingers brushing against his lips one final time.
Then she rose, her movements slow, her body still trembling from the storm of emotions that coursed through her.
She walked toward the small pile of discarded clothes, her silhouette illuminated in the dim light
A figure both vulnerable and defiant, glowing as though the room itself was reluctant to let her go.
.
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