Adultery Nalini and The Unseen Virus

[tweeny_fory]

Nalini aged 35 stands tall at 5'8" with a graceful poise that belies her robust build. Her skin, kissed by the warm Indian sun, has a rich caramel hue that glows in the soft light of her modest yet vibrant home. Her eyes, almond-shaped and a deep shade of brown, are often the first thing one notices - they hold a world of warmth and intelligence, a silent story of resilience and kindness. Her thick, black hair is usually tied in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, with a few strands escaping to frame her round, friendly face. She dresses in traditional South Indian attire - a crisp cotton sari dbangd elegantly around her.

Nalini was born and raised in a bustling neighborhood in Chennai. She met her husband, Mohan, during her university days, where they both pursued their passions for literature. They soon fell in love and started a family, welcoming a son, Arjun, and a daughter, Anjali.


The pandemic has thrown their lives into disarray. With her husband, an essential worker, forced to stay away from home and he is stuck in another city. She is left alone at home to manage her household.


Her children, Aarav and Anjali, were safe with their grandparents in the countryside, miles away from the chaos of Chennai. She had made the difficult decision to send them there when the pandemic had first hit, not wanting to expose them to the potential dangers of the city. Despite the video calls that brought smiles to their faces every evening, the house felt eerily quiet without their laughter echoing through the halls. The absence of her husband, Mohan, was palpable too. He had been stuck in Bangalore for work since the lockdown began, and she missed his reassuring presence more than she cared to admit.


Nalini's day started early as always. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled the kitchen, a comforting routine that had remained unchanged for years. She poured the steaming liquid into her favorite mug, feeling the warmth seep into her palms. As the morning light streamed in through the small kitchen window, it reflected off the gleaming steel pots and pans hanging on the wall, creating a dance of shadows and light.


The once-lively neighborhood had transformed into a deserted maze of shuttered homes. Most of her neighbors had either moved to their native places or were stuck inside, afraid to venture out. The only sounds that broke the silence were the occasional caws of crows and the rustle of leaves in the wind. The chaiwala's cart no longer made its cheerful rounds, and the local grocer had reduced his hours significantly. Nalini had to plan her shopping trips meticulously to avoid the crowded times, her heart racing every time she stepped out into the desolate streets.


Her beauty remained untouched by the gloom of the pandemic. Her skin, the color of roasted almonds, glowed with the warmth of the South Indian sun. Her eyes, deep pools of chocolate brown, held an intelligence that made her seem wise beyond her years. Her long, dark hair was usually tied in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, but today it cascaded down her back in soft waves. Her nose, a perfect slope, and her full lips, a shade darker than the rest of her face, gave her an air of regal elegance. She wore a simple cotton sari, the shade of a freshly plucked mango, which complemented her complexion and made her look like a timeless beauty from an ancient Tamil painting.


But the spark that usually danced in Nalini's eyes had dimmed. The laughter lines that crinkled around her mouth were less pronounced, and her smile, though still genuine, was tinged with a hint of sadness. The house, once a bastion of love and laughter, had become a fortress of solitude. The walls seemed to close in on her, each room holding a memory of a shared joke, a stolen kiss, or a comforting hug that now felt like a distant echo. Her husband's chair at the dinner table was vacant, his side of the bed cold, and his toothbrush, still in the stand, stood as a silent sentinel, reminding her of his absence.

[Fing fing]

pls update next part

[Givemeextra]

Pls update next.

[Wasifahim]

Continue

[tweeny_fory]

pls update next part

thanks for the reply ... updating the next part soon

[tweeny_fory]

Part 2:

Nalini's days were a blur of chores and routines, punctuated by the monotonous hum of the news channel that she kept on for company. The faces on the screen talked of rising cases and overwhelmed hospitals, painting a grim picture of the world outside. She found solace in the kitchen, her hands moving deftly as she prepared meals that once were feasts for four but now served only one. Each bite she took was a silent toast to her family's safety and health. The clank of her utensils and the sizzle of spices in the pan were the only conversations she had.

The afternoons were the hardest. She would sit in the veranda, her eyes scanning the empty street, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that would break the monotony. Sometimes she'd spot the stray cat that had started visiting, its fur a mottled gray and white, purring for food. She'd give it a bowl of milk and watch as it lapped it up with surprising grace. Other times, she'd just sit, her eyes on the horizon, where the city's smog had parted to reveal a clear blue sky, a rare sight in the pre-pandemic days. Her thoughts would drift to her husband, stuck in a hotel room in Bangalore, his face etched with the lines of worry and stress from work and isolation.

On what was to become an infamous day, she heard the creak of the front gate, a sound that had become almost as rare as the chaiwala's cart. She tensed, the quietude of the house suddenly feeling like a cocoon about to be torn apart. Two men, faces masked, and dressed in worn-out clothes, approached the door. One held a clipboard, the other a bag that clinked suspiciously with every step. They claimed to be from the local health department, here to conduct a surprise COVID-19 inspection. The government had announced random checks, so it wasn't entirely unexpected, but on hearing covid and the inspection a shiver down her spine.

[tweeny_fory]

so tell me frens.. what do you expect to happen next?

[sadlura]

Pls let them be old ugly dirty men. They slowly manipulate her into being their bitch

[tweeny_fory]

Pls let them be old ugly dirty men. They slowly manipulate her into being their bitch

thanks bro for the suggestion.. will bring the dirtiness of these 2 young lads....

[tweeny_fory]

Her mind raced, trying to recall every guideline she had read. She had been so careful, sanitizing everything that entered the house, maintaining social distance, and wearing a mask even when she talked to the plants. But fear has a way of amplifying the tiniest doubts. She hesitated, hand on the doorknob, her heart thudding in her chest. They insisted, and she couldn't say no. With a deep breath, she stepped aside, allowing them to enter. The smell of antiseptic and sweat invaded her space as they moved past her, their eyes scanning the neatly arranged living room.


The taller one, who introduced himself as Anbu, spoke in a gruff voice, his eyes darting around the room. "Ma'am, we are here to ensure your safety and the safety of those around you. We'll need to check your home and ask you a few questions." The smaller man, Teja, offered a timid nod, his eyes averted as he took a step further in. His demeanor was in stark contrast to Anbu's assertiveness. He looked nervous, his hand fidgeting with the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder.

Nalini's heart pounded against her ribs as she led them into the living room, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. She had just woken up and was still in her nightie, a simple white garment with a delicate lace border that whispered against her skin with every movement. She wished she had had the time to change into something more presentable. The room felt hot and stifling despite the cool breeze that swept in from the open windows. She sat down on the sofa, tugging at the fabric self-consciously, trying to cover herself as best she could.


On impulse, she reached for the bright blue dupatta that lay dbangd over the armrest. She knew it wasn't much, but it was all she had. She wrapped it around her chest, the soft fabric whispering across her skin, and knotted it securely, feeling a little more covered, though the makeshift blouse did little to hide her ample curves. She could feel their eyes on her, but she forced herself to look them in the eye, trying to exude confidence she didn't quite feel. "What questions do you have for me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

[tweeny_fory]

Anbu, the younger of the two, couldn't have been more than twenty-five. His eyes, a deep shade of brown, held a mix of wariness and compassion behind the foggy plastic of his mask. His hands, rough and calloused, clutched the clipboard tightly. Teja, a few years older, had a more authoritative air about him. His eyes, a piercing blue, darted around the room, scrutinizing every corner. His movements were deliberate, the bag at his side seemingly weighing him down with the gravity of his duty. Despite their youth, they had seen enough to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.


They sat on the sofa, the fabric shifting and whispering under their weight, creating a stark contrast to the silence that had engulfed the room. Nalini perched on the chair opposite, her posture erect, her hands folded in her lap. The space between them was charged with an unspoken tension, the air thick with the unsaid. Anbu cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the emptiness.

"Ma'am," he began, his eyes meeting hers with a solemnity that made her stomach clench, "we've had reports of a few cases in the area. We're just here to make sure you're okay, and to remind you of the precautions." His voice was gentle, the gruffness from before replaced with a calmness that was almost reassuring. He held up the clipboard as if it were a shield, his knuckles white against the yellowed plastic.

Nalini nodded, her throat tight. "Okay, please ask the questions," she said, her voice a little shakier than she would have liked. She could feel their gaze on her, scrutinizing her every move, searching for signs of illness or noncompliance. The room seemed to shrink around her, the air thick with unspoken fears and accusations.


Teja pulled out a pad and a pen from the bag, his hand shaking slightly. He cleared his throat, the sound like a pebble skipping across a still pond. "Your name, ma'am?" He spoke in a soft tone, his eyes darting to the pad as if seeking refuge from the gravity of the situation.

"Nalini," she replied, her voice echoing in the quiet. The name hung in the air, a simple thread connecting her to the outside world.

"Your husband's name?" Anbu's voice was firm but kind, a stark contrast to the fear that had taken root in her chest.

"Mohan," she replied, the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer. She missed him fiercely, his strong arms, his reassuring smile. The thought of him made her feel a little less alone in the face of the strangers invading her sanctuary.

Teja scribbled something on his pad, his eyes never leaving hers. "And your children?"

"Aarav and Anjali," she said, the names leaving a bittersweet taste on her tongue. "They're with their grandparents in the village."

Teja nodded, scribbling away. "Your husband's current location?"

Nalini swallowed, the mention of her husband's name bringing a lump to her throat. "Bangalore. He's been stuck there for work."

[Givemeextra]

Teja scribbled something on his pad, his eyes never leaving hers. "And your children?"

"Aarav and Anjali," she said, the names leaving a bittersweet taste on her tongue. "They're with their grandparents in the village."

Teja nodded, scribbling away. "Your husband's current location?"

Nalini swallowed, the mention of her husband's name bringing a lump to her throat. "Bangalore. He's been stuck there for work."

Ahh, a perfect housewife ready for taking.

[Eswar P]

Verynice

[behka]

nice start

[Karmayogee]

very good

[iCuby]

Why there is no updates?

[tweeny_fory]

Ahh, a perfect housewife ready for taking.

thanks for the liking

[tweeny_fory]

nice start

yes its a slow paced erotic story bro...love to play with emotions

[tweeny_fory]

Why there is no updates?

sorry to keep you wait.. i understand the eagerness..
but i too have to think of the situation, write the story, proof read it once to see if the flow is correct, and take care of my lie too bro

thanks for understnading

[tweeny_fory]

Part 3

Nalini swallowed, the mention of her husband's name bringing a lump to her throat. "Bangalore. He's been stuck there for work."


Teja nodded, his eyes flicking down to his pad as he wrote. "Phone number?" His voice was professional, but there was a hint of kindness in his eyes that made her feel a little less vulnerable.

Nalini recited her phone number, watching as Teja's hand moved with surprising grace across the page. His eyes darted up to meet hers briefly before returning to his task.

"Ma'am, you age?" Anbu's voice was a gentle probe into her personal space, a question that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Nalini took a deep breath, the fabric of her makeshift blouse sticking to her skin in the humidity. "Thirty-five," she said, her voice a whisper.

Teja nodded, scribbling down the information without looking up. His eyes remained on her, tracing the curve of her neck as it disappeared into the dupatta, the soft swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her waist, and the flare of her hips. He took in the delicate arch of her foot, the ankle bells chiming softly with her nervous taps. Her beauty was like a warm, comforting blanket that had the power to dispel the cold fear that clung to him like a second skin these days. Despite the gravity of their situation, he couldn't help but be struck by her grace, the way she sat with poise and dignity, her eyes clear and unflinching.


Anbu's voice brought him back to reality, his question about her health snapping Teja out of his reverie. He looked up from his pad, his gaze lingering on her face, the smooth skin and proud tilt of her chin. Her beauty was not just physical; it was in the way she held herself, the quiet strength that radiated from her even in the face of the pandemic's unpredictable horrors. It was in the way she met his gaze, the intelligence in her eyes that spoke volumes without a word.