11-10-2025, 05:16 PM
Neetu’s Bedroom, Sunday Afternoon
The afternoon had a soft, almost lazy quality to it, the kind of quiet that settled after a busy morning, when everything had found its rhythm and the world outside seemed distant. Neetu, Sirisha, and Ravi were lounging in Neetu’s bedroom, no longer bound by the usual constraints of formality or awkwardness.
It was just the three of them, and the air between them had shifted, lighter, more relaxed, and undeniably close, like an invisible thread woven between their bodies, drawing them together in a space where boundaries blurred.
The room, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon, seemed to breathe with them. The air had started to settle, the restless warmth giving way to a slower, quieter rhythm, one that allowed each of them to feel a strange, magnetic peace.
Neetu slipped off the bed and reached for her earrings, her fingers lingering at the edges of her neck as she adjusted her hair, stealing a quick glance in the mirror.
Sirisha still slept, completely naked and cross-legged on the bed, tugging absentmindedly at a corner of the bedsheet, her cheeks flushed with a gentle glow.
Ravi remained propped against the headboard, his eyes tracing the room, his mind still lost in the haze of what had transpired just moments ago. The calm that followed felt unreal, almost like a dream where nothing could go wrong.
Neetu broke the silence, her voice light, teasing, but with an underlying steadiness.
"See? That wasn’t so bad. Right, beta? Now that we’ve formed the circle, what happens between us stays between us."
Ravi nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. Satisfaction and a deeper sense of relief were clear on his face, but inside, his mind was still replaying the events, each touch and look a whisper he couldn’t silence.
He had never imagined it to feel this beautiful, this provoking.
Sirisha leaned closer to him, narrowing her eyes in mock reprimand.
“Bhayya, don’t look so serious. You’ll get lines on your forehead.”
He blinked at her, surprised by the playful tone, running his hand on her bare and tender breasts. She was innocent, her teasing lighthearted, but there was something in the way she spoke that disarmed him. She grinned, satisfied that she’d cracked his shell of silence.
The afternoon had a soft, almost lazy quality to it, the kind of quiet that settled after a busy morning, when everything had found its rhythm and the world outside seemed distant. Neetu, Sirisha, and Ravi were lounging in Neetu’s bedroom, no longer bound by the usual constraints of formality or awkwardness.
It was just the three of them, and the air between them had shifted, lighter, more relaxed, and undeniably close, like an invisible thread woven between their bodies, drawing them together in a space where boundaries blurred.
The room, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon, seemed to breathe with them. The air had started to settle, the restless warmth giving way to a slower, quieter rhythm, one that allowed each of them to feel a strange, magnetic peace.
Neetu slipped off the bed and reached for her earrings, her fingers lingering at the edges of her neck as she adjusted her hair, stealing a quick glance in the mirror.
Sirisha still slept, completely naked and cross-legged on the bed, tugging absentmindedly at a corner of the bedsheet, her cheeks flushed with a gentle glow.
Ravi remained propped against the headboard, his eyes tracing the room, his mind still lost in the haze of what had transpired just moments ago. The calm that followed felt unreal, almost like a dream where nothing could go wrong.
Neetu broke the silence, her voice light, teasing, but with an underlying steadiness.
"See? That wasn’t so bad. Right, beta? Now that we’ve formed the circle, what happens between us stays between us."
Ravi nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. Satisfaction and a deeper sense of relief were clear on his face, but inside, his mind was still replaying the events, each touch and look a whisper he couldn’t silence.
He had never imagined it to feel this beautiful, this provoking.
Sirisha leaned closer to him, narrowing her eyes in mock reprimand.
“Bhayya, don’t look so serious. You’ll get lines on your forehead.”
He blinked at her, surprised by the playful tone, running his hand on her bare and tender breasts. She was innocent, her teasing lighthearted, but there was something in the way she spoke that disarmed him. She grinned, satisfied that she’d cracked his shell of silence.
.
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