Romance College Confessions: with Priya and others

[rajesh93]

 
Scene 8 – The Weight of Her Presence

 
Sushma sat back in the armchair across from me, her saree perfectly arranged, her blouse, sleeveless, cut deep at the sides, hugging her body with quiet elegance. From where I sat, taller than her, I could see more than I should. The pallu covered most of her chest, but on the right side, the silk had slipped just enough to leave a generous curve of her breast uncovered above the blouse’s edge.
 




It wasn’t indecent. It was worse, graceful, teasing, the kind of accidental exposure that made it impossible to look away. The smooth slope of her skin, the way the blouse framed her fullness, pulled my gaze again and again like a force I couldn’t resist.
 
She noticed.

Her lips curled into a faint smile, her eyes glinting as though she could read every thought flashing across my face. “Rahul,” she said softly, “why do you keep looking away whenever I catch your eyes?”
 
My throat tightened. “I… I’m not, Aunty. Just… distracted.”
 
“Hmm.” She shifted, tugging her pallu closer, but in doing so only pressed the fabric tighter against her chest. The movement made my pulse stutter. “Distracted by what, beta?”
 
I clutched the glass harder. “Nothing… just… college stress.”
 
Her laugh was low and velvety. “College stress doesn’t make a young man’s eyes wander, does it?”
 
Heat rushed through me. I dropped my gaze, only to find it caught again, the bare swell of her right breast from my angle above her. Shame and desire tangled in me, leaving me speechless.
 
Sushma leaned forward slightly, her voice dipping lower, her smile amused. “You’ve grown so tall, Rahul. Sitting there above me, looking down… does it feel strange? To see your Aunty like this?”
 


I stammered, “N-no, Aunty, I didn’t…”
 
Her laugh cut me off, warm but edged with pride. “Relax, beta. You’re nineteen. A young man noticing a woman’s beauty is natural. And if a woman my age can still make you tense…” She let the words hang, her gaze locked on mine. “…then I suppose I should be proud.”
 
Her eyes gleamed with playful cruelty, as though she was savoring every second of my discomfort, feeding on it, enjoying the power she held over me.
 




I sat frozen, my breath heavy, my gaze betraying me once more, drawn helplessly to the bare slope of her chest framed by that black blouse.
 
And then…
 
From upstairs, the sound of footsteps. Light, quick, unmistakable. Priya.
 
Her steps grew louder, descending toward us.