Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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She was chasing something now, pursuing it relentlessly, and nothing else mattered, not the water still pouring over her, not the way her legs were shaking, not the obscene sounds escaping her throat.
 
The hand at the entrance of her pussy withdrew and moved to spread her folds wider, allowing her other hand better access, more direct contact.
 
She pressed hard now, her fingers moving in rapid circles, and she felt the tension coiling impossibly tight, felt her muscles beginning to contract in preparation for release.
 
The water fell over her in an endless cascade, streams running over every curve, over her breasts, down her stomach, joining with the wetness between her legs, adding to the sensory overload, making everything more intense, more overwhelming.
 
She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her belly, spreading out through her thighs, making her legs shake, making her whole body tremble with the approaching release.
 
She was so close now, teetering on the edge, and she imagined Ravi's voice in her ear, commanding her: "Come for me, Priya. I want to feel you come on my fingers. Let go."
 
That imagined command pushed her over the edge.
 
"Oh God, Ravi, I'm, I'm going to, yes, YES!"
 
And then she was there, tipping over the edge, falling into the abyss of pleasure.
 
The orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing over her with such intensity that her knees buckled.
 
She cried out, the sound echoing off the tile walls, her body convulsing with pleasure that seemed to go on and on, pulsing through her in waves.
 
Her hand kept moving, drawing out every last shudder, every last tremor, until finally she was too sensitive to continue and she pulled her hand away.
 
She stood there, leaning heavily against the wall, her body shaking with aftershocks, the water still streaming over her. Her breathing was ragged, her heart pounding, and tears were mixing with the water on her face though she couldn't say exactly why she was crying.
 
Relief? Shame? Joy? Grief?
 
All of it. None of it. Everything.
 
She had just pleasured herself to thoughts of a man who wasn't her husband.
 
She had moaned his name while touching herself in ways she'd never touched herself before. She had discovered a capacity for passion, for desire, for physical pleasure that she hadn't known existed within her.
 
And she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

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