Adultery The Aarogya Wellness and Intimacy Clinic

[prasannas2001]

 

 
But Naveen had never thought it the way he thought it now, standing this close to her, in this room, on this night, with the knowledge that she was his and he was hers and nothing would ever be the same again.
 
"You're perfect," he said.
 
The words came out before he could stop them, quiet and rough, and he felt his own face flush because they sounded so inadequate, so small, compared to what he actually meant.
 
She didn't laugh.
 
She didn't look away.
 
She just stood there, letting him look, letting him see, and in her eyes, the fear was gone.
 
He stepped forward again.
 
"May I?" he asked, his fingers hovering near the hooks at the back of her blouse.
 
"May I see you?"
 
She hesitated.
 
It was brief, just a flicker, just a moment, but he caught it.
 
The shadow that crossed her face, the tension that returned to her shoulders.
 
He started to pull back, started to tell her it was okay, they didn't have to, they could wait.
 
But then she nodded.
 
"Yes," she whispered.
 
"Yes."
 
He reached for the first hook.
 
His fingers, which could calibrate a turbine engine to within a tenth of a millimeter, fumbled like a collegeboy's.
 
The hook was impossibly small, and his hands were suddenly clumsy, and he could feel his own heartbeat in his throat, loud and insistent.
 
He worked the first hook free, then the second, then the third, and with each one, the blouse loosened a little more, and he could see a little more of her, the curve of her spine, the soft skin of her back, the faint line where her tan ended and her natural color began.
 
She stood very still.
 
Her breathing was shallow but steady.
 
And as he worked, she closed her eyes.
 
He kept going.
 
Hook after hook after hook.
 
The fabric parted, inch by inch, and he could see the white bra beneath, simple, delicate, the kind of thing that was never meant to be seen and yet somehow more intimate than anything he had ever encountered.
 
He could see the strap on her shoulder, the delicate line of it against her skin.
 
He could see the clasp at the center of her back, small and silver and waiting.
 
He could see the way her back curved, the way her waist narrowed, the way her body was made of soft lines and gentle curves that seemed designed specifically to drive him mad.
 
The last hook gave way.