31-07-2026, 11:10 PM
We stepped inside his room. Rajesh closed the door behind us and turned the lock from the inside with a soft, final click. The sound sealed the rest of the lodge away. For a moment I simply stood there, the purple saree still and quiet around my legs, and felt as if I had walked into the continuation of the dream that had been following me for many days.
The room was larger than the one we had left. A wide bed, a wooden chair, a small table, and a single wardrobe. The lighting was low and warm.
Rajesh turned to me and spoke in the same calm voice he had used all evening.
“Help me with the coat.”
I moved toward him at once. My hands rose to his shoulders and slid the black coat off his arms the way a wife would remove her husband’s coat after a long day. The black coat came away smoothly. I carried it to the wall and hung it carefully on the single nail that was fixed there. When I turned back he was already unfastening the strap of his wristwatch. He placed the watch on the table with a quiet metallic sound, then pulled the bottom of his white shirt free from the waistband of his black pants. The white shirt hung loose over his trousers now.
He walked to the wooden chair and sat down to remove his shoes.
Something shameless and already heated moved inside me. Before he could bend fully, I stepped forward and knelt on the floor in front of him. The purple saree pooled around my knees on the cement. My fingers found the laces of his right shoe and began untying them.
“It’s okay, Sudha,” he said, looking down at me. “I can do it.”
“It’s okay,” I answered softly, without raising my head.
I loosened the laces completely, eased the shoe off his foot, and set it aside. Then I did the same with the left shoe. When both shoes were removed I reached for his socks, sliding them down his ankles and off his feet one after the other. The simple act of kneeling in front of him, handling his shoes and socks, made the heat between my legs thicker and more insistent. My white panties were already damp. My breasts felt heavy inside the white bra.
I was still on my knees when he leaned forward. Both of his hands came up and held my face — palms warm against my cheeks, fingers resting lightly near my ears. He tilted my head up just enough and pressed his lips to my forehead in a slow, lingering kiss.
The moment his mouth touched my forehead, I began to melt.
Whatever cold, sharp purpose had carried me through the market, the auto, the dark roads, and the violence downstairs softened and dissolved under that single kiss. My eyes closed. My hands rested on his knees. The dream and the real room became the same place. I stayed kneeling in front of him, his hands still cupping my face, the warmth of his lips still present on my forehead, and felt myself opening in a way that had nothing left to do with revenge.
Rajesh’s hands were still lightly holding my face when he spoke again, his voice quiet and steady above me.
“I will drop you home in the morning, Sudha.”
The promise settled into the warm air of the room. He released my cheeks and straightened up. I remained kneeling for a moment longer, then slowly rose to my feet, the purple saree falling back around my legs.
He began undressing without any hurry. First he unbuttoned the white shirt completely, pulled it off his arms, and placed it over the back of the chair. His bare upper body was dark, solid, and well-defined under the low light. Next he removed the thin white banian, dragging it up over his head and dropping it onto the shirt. Finally he unfastened his black pants, pushed them down his legs, and stepped out of them. He stood in front of me wearing only a pair of black underwear.
The sight of him in nothing but the black underwear sent a fresh, heavy wave of heat straight between my thighs. My eyes moved over the dark skin of his chest, the line of his stomach, and the clear, thick shape of his cock resting heavily against his left thigh inside the black underwear. My white panties, already damp, grew wetter. My nipples tightened almost painfully inside the white bra. I could not look away.
He walked to the wide bed, pulled the blanket back, and sat on the edge. Then he looked at me and spoke in the same calm voice.
“Come. Join me.”
I walked toward the bed. The purple saree whispered around my legs with each step. When I reached him he shifted to make space. I climbed onto the mattress and lay down beside him. The bed was firm and cool at first. He reached over, drew the blanket up, and covered both of our bodies with it, enclosing us together in the shared warmth and darkness under the blanket.
Under the blanket the heat of his body reached me immediately.
I lay on my back first, the purple saree still fully wrapped around me, my white bra and white panties underneath. His bare arm rested only inches from mine. The mild scent of his skin mixed with the leftover cologne filled the small space under the blanket. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat and in the tips of my breasts. Between my legs the wetness had already soaked through the white panties; I could feel the damp white panties clinging to the lips of my pussy with every small breath I took.
I turned slightly onto my side, facing him. The movement made my heavy breasts shift inside the white bra, and the sensitive nipples scbangd lightly against the inner cups of the white bra. A soft, involuntary pulse went through my pussy. My thighs pressed together for a second, trapping the wet heat there.
I blamed the dream.
This was happening because of the dream. The same dark face, the same mouth, the same body I had kissed and wanted so shamelessly in my sleep for many nights. That was why my white panties were already soaked. That was why my nipples stayed tightly peaked inside the white bra. That was why my pussy kept throbbing in slow, heavy waves. It was the dream still controlling my body, not the real man lying only a hand’s width away. I told myself this again and again while the wetness continued to spread through the white panties and my breathing stayed uneven.
Every time I breathed I could smell him. Every time the blanket shifted I felt the warmth of his bare chest and the solid shape of his body so close to mine. My white panties were thoroughly soaked now. The thin white panties stuck to my pussy lips, and each tiny movement sent a slow, aching throb deep inside me. My nipples remained tightly peaked, rubbing against the white bra with every rise and fall of my chest. I could feel my own pulse between my legs, steady and heavy.
The cold purpose that had carried me through the entire night — the market, the driver’s hands, the dark roads, the demand for Santosh’s death — had dissolved completely. What remained was only this shameless, open hunger that I kept blaming on the dream.
I lay there beside Rajesh Mani under the same blanket, my body reacting without any restraint, and felt myself wanting nothing more than to stay exactly where I was.
Under the blanket Rajesh turned toward me fully. His right hand came to my waist, fingers spreading over the purple saree and gripping me firmly, pulling my body closer until my heavy breasts almost touched his bare chest. He looked straight into my eyes, then slowly over my entire face, studying every feature in the low light.
“Don’t worry about Santosh,” he said, his voice low and certain. “I will make him suffer before he dies. I will make sure of it. He will feel everything your husband felt, and then I will kill him. You have my word.”
I stared at his lips — the same lips from the dream — and the words left me before I could stop them.
“I have seen you in my dream… many times. For many days. The same face. The same mouth. Every time I woke up I was already wet because of you.”
His eyes darkened. His fingers pressed harder into my waist through the purple saree. A slow breath left him.
“So that is why you looked at me like that downstairs,” he said quietly. “You already knew my mouth. You already tasted me in your sleep.” He leaned even closer, his nose almost brushing mine. “Then tonight we will not stop at a dream, Sudha.”
The heat between my thighs pulsed harder. My white panties were soaked and clinging. My nipples ached inside the white bra. I wanted to kiss his lips so badly that my own mouth parted without permission.
He saw it.
“Now let me taste your lips.”
He closed the last small distance and pressed his mouth to mine.
The kiss was slow at first, then deepened at once. His lips were warm and firm. I kissed him back passionately, opening my mouth under his, my tongue meeting his without any hesitation. The hunger was exactly the same as the dream, only stronger. I sucked on his lower lip, then pushed my tongue deeper, moaning softly into his mouth. His right hand tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him so that my heavy breasts crushed against his bare chest through the purple blouse and white bra. My left hand rose and gripped the back of his neck, holding him there while I kissed him harder.
The dream was no longer a dream.
It was real. His mouth was real. The weight of his body under the blanket was real. The wet heat soaking through my white panties was real. I kept kissing him with the same shameless need I had felt every morning while waking up, only now there was no fading, no interruption, no husband beside me. Only Rajesh Mani’s mouth moving against mine, open and deep and relentless, while my body melted completely into the kiss I had already tasted in my sleep.
The kiss did not end.
Rajesh kept his mouth on mine, deeper now, slower, tasting me thoroughly. His tongue slid against mine in long, deliberate strokes while his right hand left my waist and began gathering the purple saree and the petticoat upward together. The cool air of the room touched my bare calf first, then my knee, then the soft skin of my outer thigh. I shivered against his mouth and kissed him harder.
His palm travelled higher, warm and firm, sliding along my thigh under the raised purple saree and petticoat. He stroked the smooth skin slowly, up and down, as if memorising the shape of my leg. Then his hand moved inward, brushing the sensitive inner thigh, higher and higher until his fingers reached the edge of my white panties.
He broke the kiss just enough to speak against my lips, his voice low, smooth, and tempting.
“Don’t hold back, Sudha… enjoy every second of this. Your body already knows what it wants.”
His hand slid fully over my ass, cupping the round cheek over the white panties, squeezing with open hunger and pulling me tighter against him.
“Feel how soft you are here… how perfectly you fill my hand. Let yourself enjoy it.”
I loved it.
A soft, broken sound left my throat into his mouth. My white panties were already soaked; now the heat of his palm on my ass made fresh wetness spill out. My nipples scbangd desperately against the white bra. I held his face with both hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks, and pulled my mouth away just long enough to kiss him everywhere — his upper lip, the corner of his mouth, his jaw, the side of his neck, then back to his lips again with even more hunger.
He squeezed my ass harder and whispered between kisses, still smooth, still encouraging.
“That’s it… kiss me the way you want. There is no one here to stop you. Enjoy my mouth. Enjoy my hand on your ass. This is only for you.”
“I have never felt anything like this,” I whispered against his mouth, voice shaky and thick. “Never… not even in the dream… Rajesh…”
“Then take more,” he murmured, kissing me deeper while his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my ass cheek over the white panties, lifting and kneading it. “Don’t think. Don’t stop yourself. Let your body enjoy everything I am giving you.”
I kept holding his face, kissing him wildly — lips, chin, the tip of his nose, then his mouth once more — my body pressing fully against his under the blanket. Every time his hand moved on my ass a fresh pulse of pleasure went straight to my wet pussy. His smooth words kept melting whatever control I had left, tempting me to open further, to take more, to stop resisting the shameless heat flooding through me. I was lost in the kisses, the whispers, the feeling of his palm owning my ass over the white panties, and the impossible reality that the man from my dreams was finally touching me like this and telling me to enjoy every second of it.
The room was larger than the one we had left. A wide bed, a wooden chair, a small table, and a single wardrobe. The lighting was low and warm.
Rajesh turned to me and spoke in the same calm voice he had used all evening.
“Help me with the coat.”
I moved toward him at once. My hands rose to his shoulders and slid the black coat off his arms the way a wife would remove her husband’s coat after a long day. The black coat came away smoothly. I carried it to the wall and hung it carefully on the single nail that was fixed there. When I turned back he was already unfastening the strap of his wristwatch. He placed the watch on the table with a quiet metallic sound, then pulled the bottom of his white shirt free from the waistband of his black pants. The white shirt hung loose over his trousers now.
He walked to the wooden chair and sat down to remove his shoes.
Something shameless and already heated moved inside me. Before he could bend fully, I stepped forward and knelt on the floor in front of him. The purple saree pooled around my knees on the cement. My fingers found the laces of his right shoe and began untying them.
“It’s okay, Sudha,” he said, looking down at me. “I can do it.”
“It’s okay,” I answered softly, without raising my head.
I loosened the laces completely, eased the shoe off his foot, and set it aside. Then I did the same with the left shoe. When both shoes were removed I reached for his socks, sliding them down his ankles and off his feet one after the other. The simple act of kneeling in front of him, handling his shoes and socks, made the heat between my legs thicker and more insistent. My white panties were already damp. My breasts felt heavy inside the white bra.
I was still on my knees when he leaned forward. Both of his hands came up and held my face — palms warm against my cheeks, fingers resting lightly near my ears. He tilted my head up just enough and pressed his lips to my forehead in a slow, lingering kiss.
The moment his mouth touched my forehead, I began to melt.
Whatever cold, sharp purpose had carried me through the market, the auto, the dark roads, and the violence downstairs softened and dissolved under that single kiss. My eyes closed. My hands rested on his knees. The dream and the real room became the same place. I stayed kneeling in front of him, his hands still cupping my face, the warmth of his lips still present on my forehead, and felt myself opening in a way that had nothing left to do with revenge.
Rajesh’s hands were still lightly holding my face when he spoke again, his voice quiet and steady above me.
“I will drop you home in the morning, Sudha.”
The promise settled into the warm air of the room. He released my cheeks and straightened up. I remained kneeling for a moment longer, then slowly rose to my feet, the purple saree falling back around my legs.
He began undressing without any hurry. First he unbuttoned the white shirt completely, pulled it off his arms, and placed it over the back of the chair. His bare upper body was dark, solid, and well-defined under the low light. Next he removed the thin white banian, dragging it up over his head and dropping it onto the shirt. Finally he unfastened his black pants, pushed them down his legs, and stepped out of them. He stood in front of me wearing only a pair of black underwear.
The sight of him in nothing but the black underwear sent a fresh, heavy wave of heat straight between my thighs. My eyes moved over the dark skin of his chest, the line of his stomach, and the clear, thick shape of his cock resting heavily against his left thigh inside the black underwear. My white panties, already damp, grew wetter. My nipples tightened almost painfully inside the white bra. I could not look away.
He walked to the wide bed, pulled the blanket back, and sat on the edge. Then he looked at me and spoke in the same calm voice.
“Come. Join me.”
I walked toward the bed. The purple saree whispered around my legs with each step. When I reached him he shifted to make space. I climbed onto the mattress and lay down beside him. The bed was firm and cool at first. He reached over, drew the blanket up, and covered both of our bodies with it, enclosing us together in the shared warmth and darkness under the blanket.
Under the blanket the heat of his body reached me immediately.
I lay on my back first, the purple saree still fully wrapped around me, my white bra and white panties underneath. His bare arm rested only inches from mine. The mild scent of his skin mixed with the leftover cologne filled the small space under the blanket. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat and in the tips of my breasts. Between my legs the wetness had already soaked through the white panties; I could feel the damp white panties clinging to the lips of my pussy with every small breath I took.
I turned slightly onto my side, facing him. The movement made my heavy breasts shift inside the white bra, and the sensitive nipples scbangd lightly against the inner cups of the white bra. A soft, involuntary pulse went through my pussy. My thighs pressed together for a second, trapping the wet heat there.
I blamed the dream.
This was happening because of the dream. The same dark face, the same mouth, the same body I had kissed and wanted so shamelessly in my sleep for many nights. That was why my white panties were already soaked. That was why my nipples stayed tightly peaked inside the white bra. That was why my pussy kept throbbing in slow, heavy waves. It was the dream still controlling my body, not the real man lying only a hand’s width away. I told myself this again and again while the wetness continued to spread through the white panties and my breathing stayed uneven.
Every time I breathed I could smell him. Every time the blanket shifted I felt the warmth of his bare chest and the solid shape of his body so close to mine. My white panties were thoroughly soaked now. The thin white panties stuck to my pussy lips, and each tiny movement sent a slow, aching throb deep inside me. My nipples remained tightly peaked, rubbing against the white bra with every rise and fall of my chest. I could feel my own pulse between my legs, steady and heavy.
The cold purpose that had carried me through the entire night — the market, the driver’s hands, the dark roads, the demand for Santosh’s death — had dissolved completely. What remained was only this shameless, open hunger that I kept blaming on the dream.
I lay there beside Rajesh Mani under the same blanket, my body reacting without any restraint, and felt myself wanting nothing more than to stay exactly where I was.
Under the blanket Rajesh turned toward me fully. His right hand came to my waist, fingers spreading over the purple saree and gripping me firmly, pulling my body closer until my heavy breasts almost touched his bare chest. He looked straight into my eyes, then slowly over my entire face, studying every feature in the low light.
“Don’t worry about Santosh,” he said, his voice low and certain. “I will make him suffer before he dies. I will make sure of it. He will feel everything your husband felt, and then I will kill him. You have my word.”
I stared at his lips — the same lips from the dream — and the words left me before I could stop them.
“I have seen you in my dream… many times. For many days. The same face. The same mouth. Every time I woke up I was already wet because of you.”
His eyes darkened. His fingers pressed harder into my waist through the purple saree. A slow breath left him.
“So that is why you looked at me like that downstairs,” he said quietly. “You already knew my mouth. You already tasted me in your sleep.” He leaned even closer, his nose almost brushing mine. “Then tonight we will not stop at a dream, Sudha.”
The heat between my thighs pulsed harder. My white panties were soaked and clinging. My nipples ached inside the white bra. I wanted to kiss his lips so badly that my own mouth parted without permission.
He saw it.
“Now let me taste your lips.”
He closed the last small distance and pressed his mouth to mine.
The kiss was slow at first, then deepened at once. His lips were warm and firm. I kissed him back passionately, opening my mouth under his, my tongue meeting his without any hesitation. The hunger was exactly the same as the dream, only stronger. I sucked on his lower lip, then pushed my tongue deeper, moaning softly into his mouth. His right hand tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him so that my heavy breasts crushed against his bare chest through the purple blouse and white bra. My left hand rose and gripped the back of his neck, holding him there while I kissed him harder.
The dream was no longer a dream.
It was real. His mouth was real. The weight of his body under the blanket was real. The wet heat soaking through my white panties was real. I kept kissing him with the same shameless need I had felt every morning while waking up, only now there was no fading, no interruption, no husband beside me. Only Rajesh Mani’s mouth moving against mine, open and deep and relentless, while my body melted completely into the kiss I had already tasted in my sleep.
The kiss did not end.
Rajesh kept his mouth on mine, deeper now, slower, tasting me thoroughly. His tongue slid against mine in long, deliberate strokes while his right hand left my waist and began gathering the purple saree and the petticoat upward together. The cool air of the room touched my bare calf first, then my knee, then the soft skin of my outer thigh. I shivered against his mouth and kissed him harder.
His palm travelled higher, warm and firm, sliding along my thigh under the raised purple saree and petticoat. He stroked the smooth skin slowly, up and down, as if memorising the shape of my leg. Then his hand moved inward, brushing the sensitive inner thigh, higher and higher until his fingers reached the edge of my white panties.
He broke the kiss just enough to speak against my lips, his voice low, smooth, and tempting.
“Don’t hold back, Sudha… enjoy every second of this. Your body already knows what it wants.”
His hand slid fully over my ass, cupping the round cheek over the white panties, squeezing with open hunger and pulling me tighter against him.
“Feel how soft you are here… how perfectly you fill my hand. Let yourself enjoy it.”
I loved it.
A soft, broken sound left my throat into his mouth. My white panties were already soaked; now the heat of his palm on my ass made fresh wetness spill out. My nipples scbangd desperately against the white bra. I held his face with both hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks, and pulled my mouth away just long enough to kiss him everywhere — his upper lip, the corner of his mouth, his jaw, the side of his neck, then back to his lips again with even more hunger.
He squeezed my ass harder and whispered between kisses, still smooth, still encouraging.
“That’s it… kiss me the way you want. There is no one here to stop you. Enjoy my mouth. Enjoy my hand on your ass. This is only for you.”
“I have never felt anything like this,” I whispered against his mouth, voice shaky and thick. “Never… not even in the dream… Rajesh…”
“Then take more,” he murmured, kissing me deeper while his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my ass cheek over the white panties, lifting and kneading it. “Don’t think. Don’t stop yourself. Let your body enjoy everything I am giving you.”
I kept holding his face, kissing him wildly — lips, chin, the tip of his nose, then his mouth once more — my body pressing fully against his under the blanket. Every time his hand moved on my ass a fresh pulse of pleasure went straight to my wet pussy. His smooth words kept melting whatever control I had left, tempting me to open further, to take more, to stop resisting the shameless heat flooding through me. I was lost in the kisses, the whispers, the feeling of his palm owning my ass over the white panties, and the impossible reality that the man from my dreams was finally touching me like this and telling me to enjoy every second of it.
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