Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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Amit cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently as he kissed and nibbled on her nipples. She cried out in pleasure, arching her back as he continued to tease her sensitive buds with his tongue.
 
“Ravi.” She cried inside
 
The memory surged forward with startling clarity. Ravi’s lips hadn’t lingered gently; they had pressed with urgency, as though restraint was impossible. His hands had pulled her close, almost desperate, leaving no room for hesitation.
 
The contrast struck her sharply.
 
Priya’s breath quickened as Amit kissed her nipple again, a soft promise of intimacy woven into every touch.
 
But the sensation blooming inside her wasn’t born solely of Amit’s tenderness. It was fueled by memory—by the intensity Ravi had awakened in her.
 
“Why does this feel wrong?” she wondered, a knot forming in her chest. “Why does it feel like betrayal when I’m doing nothing wrong?”
 
Amit’s hand slid to her waist, drawing her closer to him. His breath was warm against her skin when he murmured her name, his voice thick with desire.
 
The sound made her pulse race, but not for the reason it once had.
 
Her body leaned into him instinctively. The response was automatic, undeniable. Yet even as she moved with him, her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
 
“I’m responding like I did with Ravi.”
 
The realization sent a tremor through her. Amit kissed her lips softly, unhurried, his touch careful.
 
Priya kissed him back—but not gently. Her mouth moved against his with a sudden intensity that startled even her.
 
Her hands pulled him closer, fingers clutching his shirt as though proximity alone could anchor her.
 
But it wasn’t Amit’s lips she felt.
 
In her mind, Ravi’s kiss overtook everything—hungry, consuming, leaving no space for doubt.
 
Amit’s hands roamed her body, cupping her with reverence, and still, the comparison burned.
 
Ravi’s touch had been rougher, more possessive, igniting something wild she hadn’t known she missed.
 
He took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling, and Priya’s back arched involuntarily. The sensation was exquisite, but it was Ravi’s phantom touch she felt—the memory of his hands on her body, the way he had explored her with a fierce, unyielding need.
 
“Why does this feel so right?” she thought desperately. “Why does my body want this?”

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