Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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He was careful, always conscious of her reaction, of how she was feeling. 

But every second, every moment that passed with her hand resting on his thigh, felt like he was being pulled deeper into something he couldn’t control.
 
Priya’s body tensed at the weight of his hand on her thigh. 

The sensation was so intimate, so overwhelming, that she almost couldn’t breathe. 

She could feel the warmth of his hand on her skin, the pressure of his fingers barely brushing against the fabric of her clothes, and the undeniable reality of his presence so close to hers. 

It was as if every nerve in her body was tuned to him, to his touch.
 
“This is dangerous…” She thought, every part of her mind screaming to pull away, but her body refused to listen. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to pull back.
 
"Please, didi..." Ravi’s voice came again, almost pleading, his hand now gently resting on her lap, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin. "Let me… Please... just this one time… I will be very careful…" His words were soft as his hands on her thigh, a mere whisper against the rising tension between them.
 
He moved with care, slow, deliberate, making sure she felt in control of the situation, yet unable to stop the growing connection between them.
 
“He’s asking for permission...” Priya’s thoughts were a whirlwind. “It’s so dangerous… but… his touch…” The way his hand felt against her lap was almost too much to ignore.
 
His fingers traced small circles on her thigh, a careful, tender exploration. It sent heat spiraling through her body, making her breath catch in her throat as her chest rose and fell in quick succession.
 
Ravi, sensing her hesitation, continued to move slowly, his fingers brushing gently against her soft thigh. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and he could feel her tension mixed with an undeniable response to him.
 
“This is what she wants… he thought, even as his heart raced. She’s not pulling away. She’s not stopping me.”
 
His hand on her thigh felt like an anchor, a point of connection between them, grounding him in the fire they were both feeding. 

As he touched her, he could feel her pulse under his fingertips, the warmth of her skin, the softness of her body responding to his touch.

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