Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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The more his fingers worked the balm into her skin, the more he noticed the flawless beauty of her leg, the gentle curve of her calf, the way her skin seemed to glow in the soft light of the room.

 
It was all so delicate, so feminine, that it took everything in him to maintain control.
 
He could feel the pulse beneath her skin, the subtle way her muscles shifted with every movement. His fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, a gentle caress against the curve of her ankle, his breath catching at how alive she felt under his touch.
 
Sitting on her bed, Ravi felt a heady, almost dizzying mix of exhilaration and nervousness. He still cannot ignore this was the same bed that had held her past, that had witnessed her naked body, enjoying with Amit several nights. The weight of its history pressed on him, yet there was something thrilling about being here, holding a part of her in this private space. Every soft sigh she made, every subtle shift of her leg, magnified the electric tension that thrummed through him. “I shouldn’t be here… but I can’t look away.”
 
“Focus, Ravi. She’s hurt. This is not the time.” He tried to remind himself, but his body was betraying him, sending waves of longing and anticipation that he could neither suppress nor control.
 
Her leg in his lap felt like the most sensuous thing he had ever touched, a mixture of fragile vulnerability and magnetic beauty that pulled him deeper into the moment.
 
As his hands worked the balm into her ankle, she closed her eyes briefly, trying to escape the intensity of him, but it only amplified it.
 
She could feel the tension between them rising in waves, subtle yet impossible to ignore. When his fingers brushed along the curve of her calf, a jolt of conflict and thrill shot through her.
 
“Why is he touching my calf? He said he’d apply balm to my ankle… is he… taking advantage of me?” Her mind waged a battle: “He’s just helping. That’s all. Right? Just the balm…”
 
And yet, she couldn’t deny how good it felt, how the warmth of his hands and the care in his touch stirred something forbidden and intoxicating inside her. “It feels… nice. So wrong, and yet… I can’t stop feeling it.”
 
His fingers moved with deliberate, tender precision, massaging her skin in slow, careful strokes. Every part of her leg that he touched seemed to come alive, her muscles softened, her skin warmed, and that familiar, forbidden ache spread through her.
 
“This isn’t right. He’s just helping. He’s trying to make up for everything… Amit… and yet… him…” The thoughts clashed in her mind, a storm of desire and guilt, caution and surrender.
 
 “Why does it feel like this? Why am I enjoying this? Am I betraying him… or myself?” The conflict tore through her, a delicate tension between reason and desire, between past and present, between fear and longing.
 
Ravi’s heart was pounding, his chest tight with exhilaration and awe, every nerve in his body alive with the thrill of being this close to her, in her private world, in a place charged with history and intimacy. Every brush of his hands, every subtle shift, pulled him deeper, and he knew he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to.
 
The feeling of him, his warmth, his gentle pressure, the steady rhythm of his hands, the way his breath seemed to align with hers, was a contradiction both electrifying and tender, impossible to resist, impossible to ignore.
 
In that quiet, charged space, with her leg resting in his lap and her trust mingling with her uncertainty, something shifted irrevocably between them.
 
The walls, the anger, the pain of the past began to crumble, replaced by a delicate, thrilling connection that neither could yet name but both felt down to their very bones.
 

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