22-09-2025, 11:18 PM
Scene: Sirisha’s Bra: Coin toss
The words hung in the room like a slow-burning fuse:
“Sirisha’s Bra.”
Sirisha’s breath hitched sharply. Her hands flew almost instinctively to the straps across her chest, fingers pressing against the thin fabric as though the slip of paper itself had reached forward to tug it away. A rush of heat crawled up her neck, blooming across her cheeks until it seemed her whole face was on fire.
Her mind twisted in knots. My bra? Now? Before them both? The thought was mortifying, she could hardly bear the idea of being exposed, of feeling the cool air on her bare skin while their eyes watched, drank her in.
And yet, beneath that fear pulsed something darker, something hotter: a thrill that sent her stomach fluttering and her thighs pressing closer together. She wanted to run, but she also wanted to stay. Especially to stay.
Neetu saw the storm in her eyes. Leaning in, she laid a hand softly on Sirisha’s knee, her touch tender, grounding. “It’s alright, beta,” she murmured, voice husky but laced with warmth. “You’re beautiful. Let the game guide you.”
The words soothed and inflamed her in equal measure. Sirisha’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. She had seen Neetu like this, radiant, confident, unapologetic, but never imagined she herself would be pulled into such a daring current.
Ravi, still holding the slip of paper, struggled to keep his expression steady. Inside, however, he was undone. The image of Sirisha’s lips on Neetu’s breast still burned in his mind, and now the idea of her half-naked before them was nearly too much to bear.
She’s going to… she might really… He clenched the chit tighter, his knuckles pale, as though that scrap of paper was the only thing anchoring him to composure.
Neetu’s smile widened, playful now. She reached for the glass jar again, swirling the coins inside so they chimed like small bells. “Now,” she purred, “let’s see who gets the honor.”
The coin gleamed as she fished one out, its worn edges catching the glow of the daylight. She held it up between two fingers, her eyes glinting with mischief as she turned to Sirisha. “Call it, Ravi. Heads or tails?”
Sirisha swallowed hard, caught between fear and anticipation.
“Heads.” Ravi’s voice very excited with high anticipation and longing.
The words hung in the room like a slow-burning fuse:
“Sirisha’s Bra.”
Sirisha’s breath hitched sharply. Her hands flew almost instinctively to the straps across her chest, fingers pressing against the thin fabric as though the slip of paper itself had reached forward to tug it away. A rush of heat crawled up her neck, blooming across her cheeks until it seemed her whole face was on fire.
Her mind twisted in knots. My bra? Now? Before them both? The thought was mortifying, she could hardly bear the idea of being exposed, of feeling the cool air on her bare skin while their eyes watched, drank her in.
And yet, beneath that fear pulsed something darker, something hotter: a thrill that sent her stomach fluttering and her thighs pressing closer together. She wanted to run, but she also wanted to stay. Especially to stay.
Neetu saw the storm in her eyes. Leaning in, she laid a hand softly on Sirisha’s knee, her touch tender, grounding. “It’s alright, beta,” she murmured, voice husky but laced with warmth. “You’re beautiful. Let the game guide you.”
The words soothed and inflamed her in equal measure. Sirisha’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. She had seen Neetu like this, radiant, confident, unapologetic, but never imagined she herself would be pulled into such a daring current.
Ravi, still holding the slip of paper, struggled to keep his expression steady. Inside, however, he was undone. The image of Sirisha’s lips on Neetu’s breast still burned in his mind, and now the idea of her half-naked before them was nearly too much to bear.
She’s going to… she might really… He clenched the chit tighter, his knuckles pale, as though that scrap of paper was the only thing anchoring him to composure.
Neetu’s smile widened, playful now. She reached for the glass jar again, swirling the coins inside so they chimed like small bells. “Now,” she purred, “let’s see who gets the honor.”
The coin gleamed as she fished one out, its worn edges catching the glow of the daylight. She held it up between two fingers, her eyes glinting with mischief as she turned to Sirisha. “Call it, Ravi. Heads or tails?”
Sirisha swallowed hard, caught between fear and anticipation.
“Heads.” Ravi’s voice very excited with high anticipation and longing.
.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)