Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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What is it about her that pulls me in? Ravi wondered, his chest tightening in that familiar way. She has a way of making the ordinary seem extraordinary. There’s an elegance to her that feels almost out of place, like she belongs in a different time, in a different world.
 
Ravi rolled out of bed, rubbing his face as he moved toward the bathroom. He did not look at the mirror, not today. His reflection was something he didn’t want to face. Instead, he focused on the simple motions of getting ready. Dressing. Showering. Preparing himself for the day ahead.
 
When Ravi stepped out of his room, the apartment was still. The door to Amit’s room was closed, and the soft hum of the ceiling fan above him was the only sound in the hallway.
 
He moved quietly toward the kitchen, the scent of warm spices and freshly brewed tea already filling the air.
 
And there, in the kitchen, stood Priya Didi. She was bent slightly over the counter, focused on the task at hand, chopping vegetables with a steady, practiced hand.
 
The apron she wore clung to her form in a way that accentuated the gentle curve of her waist, the soft slope of her shoulders. She didn’t need to try—everything about her radiated beauty effortlessly.
 
The morning light was perfectly positioned, catching the edges of her face, making her skin glow with a soft radiance that made Ravi stop in his tracks.
 
There was something ethereal about the way she looked, like the light itself had chosen her to illuminate. “How is it possible for a woman to look so... perfect?”
 
Her hair was loosely tied back, stray strands falling softly around her face, catching the light in their own way.
 
She looked like an angel caught in a fleeting moment of grace. For a long moment, Ravi stood in the doorway, watching her, unable to move, as if entranced by the simple beauty of her presence.
 
Her neck, slender and elegant, held a quiet strength that captivated him. His eyes traced the subtle curve of her body, the way she moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy gravity.
 
She wasn’t just chopping vegetables; she was creating a rhythm, a delicate dance of motion that made the ordinary act of cooking look like poetry in motion.

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