Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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Her hand stroked slowly down Sirisha’s back, unhurried, reassuring, until she leaned back just enough to see her face.

Sirisha’s eyes shimmered with uncertainty, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t quite find the words. Neetu tilted her head, her smile tender, patient.
 
“You’re so strong, Sirisha… even when you don’t see it. You don’t have to be afraid of your feelings here, or hide them from us. We understand.”
 
As she spoke, Neetu’s thumb brushed across Sirisha’s cheekbone, a feather-light caress. She leaned forward slowly, her lips grazing Sirisha’s temple, lingering there with a whisper of warmth. Sirisha closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her, the tension in her shoulders softening.
 
Neetu’s lips drifted lower, to her cheek, pressing there with quiet affection. Sirisha’s breath quickened, her hands clutching lightly at Neetu’s arms as if afraid to let go. The closeness felt electric, not overwhelming but alive, each second stretching into something deeper.
 
“See?” Neetu whispered against her skin, her breath warm, her tone laced with tenderness. “There’s no judgment here. Only us… only care. You can let go. You can feel… and still be safe.”
 
Her lips moved again, this time brushing the corner of Sirisha’s mouth, lingering just enough to send a shiver through her. Sirisha’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Neetu’s gaze, wide, uncertain, but not resisting.
 
Neetu searched her face, her own heart thudding, a rush of affection and something softer, more dangerous, stirring inside her. She cupped Sirisha’s face with both hands now, her thumbs stroking gently along her jaw. Slowly, deliberately, she closed the remaining distance.
 
Their lips met in a tender kiss, slow at first, almost tentative, as if giving Sirisha every chance to pull away. But Sirisha didn’t. Instead, she melted into it, her breath mingling with Neetu’s, her lips soft and trembling beneath the gentle pressure.
 
For Sirisha, the kiss was like stepping into a world she had never known, where warmth and care wrapped her in ways no guilt or shame could penetrate.
 
The first brush of Neetu’s lips sent a quiver through her, a soft, deliberate press that felt different from Ravi’s earlier kiss, not protective in the same way, not tethered to a past mistake, but intimately affirming, almost sacred.
 
It carried patience, tenderness, and a depth of desire that made her tremble with both surprise and relief.
Her lips parted instinctively, drinking in the sensation, the gentle yielding of Neetu guiding her like water over stone, each movement slow, deliberate, and impossibly soft.
 
She could feel the heat radiating from Neetu’s body through every inch of contact, the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the steady rhythm of her breath. Every second pressed against Sirisha like a promise: she was seen, wanted, and entirely safe.

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