Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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They stood there.
 
So close now that it felt deliberate.
 
Priya exhaled softly, shoulders relaxing for the first time since they had started. She set the rolling pin down, hands resting on the cool, smooth counter.
 
The faint brush of air from the open window carried the subtle scent of rain outside, mingling with the warm smell of cooked bread.
 
“That’s all of them,” she said.
Her voice calm. Her body not.
 
Ravi stepped behind her. Slowly. Carefully. Giving her space to retreat.
 
She didn’t. Instead, she leaned back, just slightly, until she could feel the solid warmth of him at her back. The contact was subtle but unmistakable.
 
Her breath hitched, then settled, a soft pulse of anticipation threading through her.
 
This time, she chose it.
 
Ravi’s hands stayed at his sides. His restraint was deliberate, reverent. He lowered his head, inhaling the faint scent of her hair, of flour and warmth and something uniquely hers.
 
The tiny rise and fall of her shoulders pressed against his chest was hypnotic.
 
Her dark saree clung to her form with effortless grace, the dark color fabric folding elegantly around her waist and dbanging over her shoulder in soft, fluid lines.
 
The delicate embroidery along the border caught the light, subtle yet mesmerizing, drawing his eye along the curve of her body.
Her blouse, fitted and rich in color, framed her slender arms and accentuated the graceful line of her neck and her breasts. The warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric seemed almost to radiate outward, brushing against him with every slight movement.
 
"God, she’s breathtaking."
"And so close…"
 
The soft sway of the pallu as she adjusted her stance, the way it clung and then fell, revealed glimpses of the curve of her waist and the gentle line of her hips.
Her hair, dark and lustrous, spilled in soft waves down her back, brushing lightly against his chest as she leaned back. The subtle scent of jasmine mixed with the warm bread and flour, a heady combination that made his pulse race.
 
The slight displacement of the pallu as she adjusted her stance, the way it clung and then fell, revealed not only the gentle curve of her hips but a delicate strip of her waist, below her blouse.
 
A hint of her navel peeked out, smooth and round, framed by the deep color of her saree, accentuating the subtle hollow of her abdomen.

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