Misc. Erotica Whispers in the Shadows

[Shuhasini22]

Title: "Whispers in the Shadows"
Shuvo had always been drawn to the macabre—ruins, ghost towns, forgotten graveyards. So when he inherited his uncle’s crumbling mansion in the mist-covered village of Vairag, he saw it not as a curse, but an invitation.
The house breathed. Its walls whispered. And on the second night, he met her.
Puja.
She came out of the forest behind the mansion barefoot, soaked by rain, her eyes wide and lost. A local girl, she said. But Shuvo knew better—there was something... unearthly about her beauty. Something that stirred him and chilled him all at once.
She warned him of the mirror room.
"Never open it after midnight," she whispered against his neck, her breath cold but lips warm.
But Shuvo, fueled by desire and curiosity, did.
Inside was a mirror that showed not reflections, but secrets. In its silver depths, he saw her—Rekha. Puja’s mother.
Ageless. Alluring. Watching him from the shadows with a knowing smile.
That night, as Puja wrapped herself around him under stormlit sheets, the mirror shimmered… and Rekha stepped out.
But was she real—or something else?
Two women. One seductive and soft, the other powerful and dark.
And Shuvo, caught between lust and the supernatural, would learn that some desires—once awakened—can never be put back to sleep.

[Shuhasini22]

Whispers in the Shadows (Part 2)
Shuvo couldn’t sleep.
The storm outside growled like an angry beast, and the mirror room called to him—low, humming whispers crawling through the walls like invisible vines. He got up, shirtless, his bare feet cold against the creaking wooden floor.
The house seemed… alive.
He wandered into the long hallway, candle in hand, drawn as if in a trance. The mirror room’s door stood ajar.
She was there.
Rekha.
She stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in a deep crimson robe that clung to her curves like satin over flame. Her black hair tumbled down her shoulders, wild and untamed. Her eyes glowed faintly—unnatural… or maybe it was the candlelight playing tricks on him.
"Shuvo," she said softly, her voice velvet and thorned. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"
"I... I thought you were Puja’s mother," he stammered, stepping back.
"I am," she purred. "But I'm more than that. I’m what this house craves… and now, so are you."
She approached slowly, the robe slipping open just enough for Shuvo’s eyes to catch a glimpse of flawless skin and full, heavy breasts swaying beneath. Her body—ripe, powerful, tempting—was unlike anything he’d ever seen.
Rekha circled behind him, fingertips grazing his bare chest, down his stomach. He shivered.
"You’re different," she whispered. "Pure. Innocent. That’s why the house chose you."
Before he could speak, her mouth was on his neck, kissing, biting, drawing gasps from his lips. He tried to pull away—but her arms were strong. Her robe dropped to the floor with a hush.
Her body was breathtaking. Thick, sultry curves that begged to be touched. Her breasts, large and full, seemed to defy gravity, and her hips—wide, commanding—swayed with otherworldly grace.
She pushed him gently to the old velvet couch, her hands working his pants down, slow and deliberate.
"You’ll remember this forever," she said, straddling him.
Their shadows danced across the mirror.
What happened next didn’t feel like a dream—but couldn’t have been real. It was as if Rekha fed off his arousal. Her body moved like silk and fire, and every thrust felt like falling deeper into a trance, deeper into her spell.
And in the mirror—Puja was watching.
But her expression wasn’t fear.
It was hunger.

[Shuhasini22]

Whispers in the Shadows (Part 3)
Shuvo lay breathless, his body still trembling, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Rekha had disappeared as suddenly as she came, vanishing into the shadows like smoke.
But the mirror…
It still shimmered.
And in its reflection stood Puja.
Not outside the mirror—inside it.
She wasn’t scared. She was calm. Watching. Smiling.
The mirror pulsed once like a heartbeat. Then, slowly, Puja stepped through it, barefoot on the dusty floor, dressed in a thin white gown that clung to her like mist to a midnight lake.
"You weren’t supposed to open the door," she whispered, stepping closer. "Now she’s awakened… and so am I."
Shuvo tried to speak, but his throat was dry. His body still ached from Rekha’s wild possession, but something deeper stirred as Puja approached—something more… dangerous.
She sat beside him on the velvet couch, fingers brushing the red marks Rekha had left on his skin.
"You wanted her," she said, voice almost playful. "But I know you watched me too. Every time I passed the window. Every time I bathed in the stream behind the house."
He swallowed hard. She was right.
"I’m not like her," Puja said. "Not yet. But if I take you, truly take you... I will become something else."
She leaned in and kissed him—soft at first, then hungry, almost desperate. Her hands explored him, tracing every inch as if memorizing him. Shuvo's restraint broke. He pulled her close, his breath mixing with hers, as she moaned softly into his mouth.
Their bodies tangled like vines in the dark. Her skin was warm, almost too warm. Her nails dug into his back, drawing blood as their rhythm built like a rising tide.
But the mirror still watched.
And within its depths… Rekha smiled.
There were whispers again. Not just from the mirror, but from the walls, the floor… the house itself. Shuvo didn’t know if this was passion, possession, or something worse.
But he didn’t stop.
He couldn’t.
Because somewhere between lust and fear… he was starting to change, too.