Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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Slowly, as her breathing returned to normal and her legs regained their strength, she began to actually wash, soap everywhere she had touched and everywhere she hadn't, scrubbing herself clean with a thoroughness that felt almost ritualistic.
 
She washed her hair, working the shampoo through the long black strands until they were slick and clean, then rinsed until the water ran clear.
 
When she finally turned off the shower, the silence was profound. She stood there for a moment, dripping, feeling the cool air on her wet skin, and looked down at her body with new eyes.
 
This body had just experienced pleasure beyond anything she'd known. These hands, these breasts, these thighs, they had shown her what she was capable of feeling. And that man, Ravi, who probably had no idea what he'd awakened in her, he had been the catalyst for this discovery.
 
She stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, wrapping it around herself. The soft fabric absorbed the water from her skin, and she toweled herself dry with slow, deliberate movements, taking her time.
 
When she finally looked up at the mirror again, she had to wipe away the steam to see her reflection.
 
The woman looking back at her was different from the one who had entered this bathroom.
 
Her hair was wet and tangled, hanging in dark ropes down her back. Her skin was flushed pink from the warm water and from what she had just done. Her eyes were brighter, clearer, as if some fog had lifted.
 
She didn't look guilty. She didn't look ashamed.
 
She looked satisfied. Alive. Awake.
 
She looked like a woman who finally understood her own power, her own desires, her own capacity for passion.
 
"I can't fight this," she whispered to her reflection, the words coming easier now than they had before. "I don't want to fight this."
 
And for the first time in years, she didn't feel wrong.
 
She felt honest.
 
She had stopped lying to herself. About what she wanted. About what she felt. About who she was beneath all the expectations and obligations.
 
She was Priya.
 
In her mid twenties, beautiful, sensual, and awakening to desires she had been taught to suppress. She was a woman who wanted to be seen, to be touched, to be desired.
 
A woman who had just discovered that her body was capable of incredible pleasure, and who now knew the name that made her body sing.
 
She didn't have answers yet. She didn't know what would happen next, didn't know how to navigate these dangerous waters she had just entered. But she had stopped pretending. She had stopped denying.
 
And that, she knew with absolute certainty, was the beginning of something she could no longer ignore.
 
Something inevitable.
 
Something that both terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.
 
She hung up the towel and began to get dressed, her movements slow and deliberate. But even as she donned the armor of respectability again, the fresh petticoat, the clean blouse, the perfectly dbangd saree, she knew that the woman beneath hadn't changed back.
 
That woman was still there. Still aware. Still wanting.
 
Still remembering the name she had cried out in the shower.
 
Still wondering what would happen the next time she saw him.

-- oOo --

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