Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

The Drive Home – Part 5
 

The tension in the car was thick, more palpable than ever, as Ravi’s fingers moved behind her saree with a deliberate slowness, pressing gently into the soft curve of Priya’s left breast over her blouse.
 
Her breath stilled, the slight tremor in her body a clear indication that she felt the weight of what was happening. Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
 
Her eyes were glued to the side window, the shadows outside blurring past, a futile attempt to hide the tornado of emotions swirling inside her.
 
"God… this is insane… what am I doing? What are we doing?" Priya’s thoughts spiraled, but her body… her body wanted this. The heat that had built between them now felt like a pressure, a magnetic pull drawing her into his orbit.
 
Every small touch, every subtle movement of his fingers, sent shockwaves of electricity through her veins, and yet, there was still hesitation.
 
A part of her was afraid, afraid of crossing this line into something that would change everything. She knew that she couldn’t undo it once it had happened. But even as her mind screamed "stop," her body couldn’t resist the allure of his touch.
 
"He’s touching me… his hand is on me… I shouldn’t like this… but I can’t stop…" she thought, trying to pull her thoughts together, but every second felt like it was erasing her ability to think clearly.
 
Priya shifted slightly, her body instinctively responding to the warmth of his hand, though she tried to control it, forcing herself not to lean too much into him. She couldn’t let herself completely go… not yet.
 
The feeling of his fingers on her breast, his hand pressing gently but with a profound intimacy, was like a spark against dry tinder. The softness of her skin beneath his hand made her breath catch in a way she couldn’t explain.
 
"Just one more step… he’s already here… it’s already happening…"
 
The soft hum of the radio filled the air, almost drowning out the pounding of her heartbeat. The music that Amit had turned on was mellow and slow, the faint rhythm of the song playing over the quiet tension in the car. 

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