Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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She leaned back slightly, her shoulder brushing his. The simple touch of her skin against his sent a soft tremor through him, a reminder that she was there, that she had been there, always. 

He realized with a sudden clarity that he didn’t want to move, not now, not when the air between them felt so electric, so full of possibility. 

There was a warmth in her that both steadied and set him on fire in a way he couldn’t name.
 
“I… I don’t know what to do,” Ravi confessed in a low, unsteady voice, his words hanging in the air between them. “I feel like everything’s falling apart.”
 
Neetu’s hand moved to cover his briefly, her fingers brushing over his skin with deliberate care, her touch gentle but intentional.

Her thumb moved in slow circles, a quiet motion that held an unspoken promise of comfort, and something more. “It’s not falling apart,” she said, her voice steady, soft. “It’s just… messy. Life is messy. People are messy. And you’re human, Ravi. And that’s okay.”
 
The words, simple as they were, settled deep inside him, easing some of the pressure in his chest. He let out a shaky laugh, feeling the tension in his body loosen just a little. 

Her hand didn’t pull away right away, and when she kept it there, fingers lingering on his, it wasn’t accidental.

It was a lifeline. It was a reminder that he wasn’t alone. And as the quiet stretched between them, the air thickened, not with discomfort, but with a growing, undeniable tension.
 
Neetu tilted her head, letting it rest softly against his shoulder. The unexpectedness of the gesture caught him off guard, but he didn’t pull away. 

Instead, he froze for a moment, letting himself feel the subtle weight of her head on his shoulder, the warmth of her body pressing into his side. It wasn’t overwhelming. But it was intimate, close enough to stir a flutter deep inside him.
 
He felt the small rise and fall of her chest against his, the faint brush of her hair against his neck, and suddenly, everything that had felt chaotic, everything that had felt beyond repair, seemed to settle into something simpler. Something softer. Something that he didn’t want to pull away from.
 
The room stayed quiet, but in that silence, the space between them deepened. Hands brushed again, so lightly, so intentionally, that it sent a wave of heat through Ravi’s chest. 

The touch was unspoken, but it was enough to make his breath catch. His chest tightened, not from anxiety, but from the awareness of her closeness, the soft charge of being near her, seen and understood in such a raw, unguarded way.
 
Neetu whispered, almost to herself, her breath warm against his skin. “It’s okay to let yourself feel, Ravi.”
 
The words were like a permission he hadn’t realized he needed. 

The weight of them sank into him, and for the first time since entering the room, he allowed himself to feel, to breathe her in, to soak up her warmth, her comfort, and the delicate, almost forbidden tension that hummed between them.
 
His gaze found hers then, and there was no need for words. 

In that look, they both felt it, the tension, the pull, the quiet hunger that neither of them dared to speak aloud. 

And yet, for a moment, just a fleeting one, Ravi wondered what it would feel like to lean into this pull.
 
And in that stillness, Ravi realized that the day could stretch long, and maybe, just maybe, he could let himself lean into her presence, carefully, naturally, one step at a time.

 
 

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