Yesterday, 04:25 PM
Scene 7
The camera clicked, a sound now as intimate as a whisper. Kabir was so close Ananya could see the fine details of the lens, the reflection of her own body in its curved glass. He was completely absorbed in his work, but his body told a different story.
Ananya's smile widened. She shifted slightly, letting her hand fall from Samrat's and rest on her own stomach. She let the silence stretch for another moment before she spoke, her voice calm and laced with a teasing authority.
Ananya: "Kabir, go get in your shorts. I can see you are uncomfortable in those trousers." Kabir, jaakar shorts pehen lo. Main dekh sakti hoon ki tum un trousers mein aaram se nahi ho.
The clicking stopped abruptly.
Kabir froze, his eye pulling away from the viewfinder. He slowly straightened up, his gaze locking with hers. For the first time, a flicker of something other than professional intensity crossed his face, surprise, perhaps even a hint of being caught off guard.
Samrat let out a low chuckle from beside her, the sound rich with amusement. He squeezed her thigh gently.
Samrat: "She has a point, mate. No need to be so restricted on our account." Woh sahi keh rahi hai, dost. Hamari vajah se itna bandhan mein rehne ki zaroorat nahi hai.
The challenge hung in the air, playful but direct. Kabir looked from Ananya's knowing smile to Samrat's relaxed, encouraging expression. He was being invited to drop the last shred of professional pretense. A slow, almost dangerous smile touched his own lips. He didn't offer an excuse or a denial.
Kabir: "Is that what you want?" Kya aap yahi chahte hain?
Ananya: "We want everyone to be… comfortable. Honest. Wasn't that the deal?" Hum chahte hain ki sab… aaram se rahein. Imaandaar. Yahi deal thi na?
He held her gaze for a long moment, a silent negotiation passing between them. Then, he gave a single, sharp nod. Without another word, he placed his camera carefully on a nearby table and walked towards a door that led to a small private room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Samrat leaned over and kissed Ananya, a hard, possessive kiss full of admiration.
Samrat: "You are incredible." Tum kamaal ho.
Ananya: "This is what we came for, isn't it?" Hum isi liye aaye the, hai na?
Before Samrat could reply, the door opened again. Kabir returned. He had changed into a pair of simple, dark grey shorts. He was no longer hiding anything. His arousal was now an open, acknowledged fact in the room, a third presence alongside them on the sofa. The dynamic had irrevocably shifted.
He walked back to the center of the room, standing before them, making no move to pick up his camera.
Kabir: "Better?" Behtar hai?
Ananya’s eyes roamed over him freely, a slow, appreciative look. She leaned forward slightly, her voice a seductive purr.
Ananya: "Much better. Now… where were we?" Bahut behtar. Toh… hum kahan the?
The camera clicked, a sound now as intimate as a whisper. Kabir was so close Ananya could see the fine details of the lens, the reflection of her own body in its curved glass. He was completely absorbed in his work, but his body told a different story.
Ananya's smile widened. She shifted slightly, letting her hand fall from Samrat's and rest on her own stomach. She let the silence stretch for another moment before she spoke, her voice calm and laced with a teasing authority.
Ananya: "Kabir, go get in your shorts. I can see you are uncomfortable in those trousers." Kabir, jaakar shorts pehen lo. Main dekh sakti hoon ki tum un trousers mein aaram se nahi ho.
The clicking stopped abruptly.
Kabir froze, his eye pulling away from the viewfinder. He slowly straightened up, his gaze locking with hers. For the first time, a flicker of something other than professional intensity crossed his face, surprise, perhaps even a hint of being caught off guard.
Samrat let out a low chuckle from beside her, the sound rich with amusement. He squeezed her thigh gently.
Samrat: "She has a point, mate. No need to be so restricted on our account." Woh sahi keh rahi hai, dost. Hamari vajah se itna bandhan mein rehne ki zaroorat nahi hai.
The challenge hung in the air, playful but direct. Kabir looked from Ananya's knowing smile to Samrat's relaxed, encouraging expression. He was being invited to drop the last shred of professional pretense. A slow, almost dangerous smile touched his own lips. He didn't offer an excuse or a denial.
Kabir: "Is that what you want?" Kya aap yahi chahte hain?
Ananya: "We want everyone to be… comfortable. Honest. Wasn't that the deal?" Hum chahte hain ki sab… aaram se rahein. Imaandaar. Yahi deal thi na?
He held her gaze for a long moment, a silent negotiation passing between them. Then, he gave a single, sharp nod. Without another word, he placed his camera carefully on a nearby table and walked towards a door that led to a small private room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Samrat leaned over and kissed Ananya, a hard, possessive kiss full of admiration.
Samrat: "You are incredible." Tum kamaal ho.
Ananya: "This is what we came for, isn't it?" Hum isi liye aaye the, hai na?
Before Samrat could reply, the door opened again. Kabir returned. He had changed into a pair of simple, dark grey shorts. He was no longer hiding anything. His arousal was now an open, acknowledged fact in the room, a third presence alongside them on the sofa. The dynamic had irrevocably shifted.
He walked back to the center of the room, standing before them, making no move to pick up his camera.
Kabir: "Better?" Behtar hai?
Ananya’s eyes roamed over him freely, a slow, appreciative look. She leaned forward slightly, her voice a seductive purr.
Ananya: "Much better. Now… where were we?" Bahut behtar. Toh… hum kahan the?
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