Adultery The Untold Story of Abhiram's Erotic Journey - Part 1

[shailu4ever]

Hi 

I am Shailu, I have been reading stories here without registering for a while.  I really love you all. These stories made me attempt my first story.  Please excuse me if I make any mistakes. This is not a quick story with quick romantic scenes.  I have been thinking of this for a long time.  It will be a novel and slowly builds up.  This is the journey of Abhiram, a young software engineer that comes to Hyderabad with great hopes.  We will look into his life, how he meets different people and how he gets close to them and how he leaves a mark in their lives. We will explore all the thrills in his life in a natural way.  No rushed plots.  If you are looking for a quick romantic scenes, it is not the one. 

Hope you like it.

-- Shailu

[shailu4ever]

The Lady Next Door


The afternoon sun filtered lazily through the iron grills of the balcony, casting narrow shadows across the apartment floor. Abhiram leaned against the cool railing, a cup of chai warming his fingers, eyes wandering across the small colony of flats facing his. It was a quiet Sunday.

Abhi just moved into this two-bedroom rental in Hyderabad — a step toward independence after graduating and landing his first job. It wasn’t flashy, but it was his. For a boy raised in a joint family, this solitude was strange… but also, a little thrilling.

He took a slow sip. That’s when he noticed her again.

From the balcony to his left, a woman stepped out, holding a towel between her fingers. She looked like she is her late twenties, with skin so fair it almost shimmered in the afternoon light. There was an effortless elegance in the way she moved, a quiet rhythm that made it impossible to look away. She is in a soft lilac cotton saree, her hair was tied in a loose bun, small strands sticking to her damp neck.  Her posture was graceful.

She glanced in his direction, eyes meeting his for a split second. Then she gave a small, polite smile, just... warm.

Abhi nodded back, clearing his throat, suddenly more aware of his stubble and the faint wrinkles on his T-shirt.

She hung the towel over the railing, then turned and disappeared inside.

He stood there a moment longer, heart beating a little faster for reasons he couldn’t quite name.
 
That evening, as he walked toward the gate to buy milk, he passed her again—this time near the elevator. She was locking her door, the soft jingle of bangles accompanying her every movement.

“Hi,” she said, this time fully acknowledging him. “You moved in just last week, right?”

“Yes,” Abhi said, pausing. “Flat 203.”

“I’m Madhavi,” she said, offering a smile. “202. Welcome to the building.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

She looked at him a moment longer, something unreadable in her gaze. “If you need anything—filter, groceries, gas connection help—just knock.”

“I will,” he said, feeling the words stick in his throat. She smelled faintly of sandalwood and talcum, a scent that lingered even after she walked past him down the stairs.
 

That night, lying in bed, he kept hearing her voice in his head. "If you need anything... just knock."

He didn’t.

But he wanted to.

[shailu4ever]

The days passed quietly. Hyderabad's June heat began to mellow with the first signs of monsoon. Abhi was slowly adjusting to adult life—coding during the day at a mid-sized IT company in Madhapur, figuring out groceries, late-night laundry, and making his own coffee just right.

He was sharp for his age— 6 feet tall, with an easy smile and a voice that people tended to listen to. Not overly muscular, but lean and well-kept. He wasn't trying to impress anyone… but he often did without knowing.

He also had a roommate—Karthik, 23, extroverted and carefree, the kind who’d wear cologne to bed just in case. They shared jokes, food, and midnight walks to the nearby pan shop for chai and smokes. He travels a lot, so mostly his room kept locked.


Madhavi would appear every few days—watering plants in her balcony, walking down in a simple kurti to collect parcels, or pausing for a few words near the elevator.

Each time, there was nothing overt. But Abhi noticed the details—her eyes lingering just a second too long, the way her voice softened when speaking to him, how her saree would sometimes slide off the shoulder before she gently adjusted it, giving him a wonderful view he could never take his eyes off.

Once, as she carried a small carton of milk and groceries up the stairs, Abhi offered to help.

“You don’t have to,” she said, but didn’t object when he took the bag.

“I don’t mind.”

She smiled, letting him walk with her. Their hands brushed once as he passed the bag back. That was it. But that single touch stayed with him for hours.

One Saturday, Abhi visited his family on the outskirts. The house was full of laughter and relatives. One of his distant cousins had also come along—Shravya, 20, a college student from Vijayawada, staying for a few weeks while attending coaching nearby. Friendly, bubbly, full of youth and maybe just a bit too playful.

She hugged him from the side and said, “You look different now, Abhi anna. Grown-up, but still the same moody eyes.”

He chuckled. “You're still talking too much.”

She stuck her tongue out, but her smile lingered longer than it should have. He didn’t think much of it—yet.


Back in the apartment, a new tenant had moved into the floor above—a divorced woman named Sahana, 30, who taught classical dance. She was rarely seen during the day, but in the evenings, Abhi could sometimes hear soft music and rhythmic beats coming from her flat.

Once, they bumped into each other near the staircase. She was drenched slightly from the rain, holding a shawl around her shoulders. She gave him a graceful nod.

“Hi, you must be from 203?”

“Yes, I’m Abhiram.”

“I’m Sahana. 303. Let me know if my music’s ever too loud.”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Actually... I kind of like it.”

Her eyebrow raised slightly. “Good to know.”

By the end of the week, Abhi sat on his bed, earphones in, scrolling through his phone. Outside, rain tapped steadily against the window. He wasn’t chasing anything… but doors were opening around him. Some innocent. Some charged. Some quietly dangerous.

He didn’t know yet where it would lead.

But he could feel it: life was about to become very, very complicated.

----

[shailu4ever]

Guys, please let me know if there are any mistakes, I am more than happy to correct and make it better. as I said, this my first attempt to write something I have been thinking for a long time.

[rombyzomby]

Let story gets developed

[shailu4ever]

Chapter 2: Rainy Night and Madhavi’s Knock

The city was drowning in rain.

Sheets of water fell like silver veils from the sky, washing over the buildings, roads, and balconies. The lights flickered once, then again—and with a soft thunk, everything went dark. The ceiling fan slowed to a halt. Power cut.

Abhi lit the emergency lamp, its dull glow casting long shadows across the room. He liked nights like this—quiet, intimate, as if the world was pressing pause.

He had just changed into a loose black tee and boxers, towel around his shoulders after a long shower. Drops of water still clung to his collarbone.

That’s when he heard the knock.

Not urgent. Not loud. Just… soft.

He opened the door.

Madhavi stood there, wrapped in a pale blue saree that clung slightly to her body, damp from the short dash between her door and his. A few strands of her long black hair had come loose from the bun, sticking to her cheeks. She was barefoot, holding her phone light and a small covered bowl.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice barely above the rain. “Do you have candles? Our inverter broke.”

He stepped aside. “Yeah, come in.”

She entered, the scent of sandalwood and rain mixing with the warm air of his flat.

Madhavi was around 5’5", fair skin with a golden glow that came from years of homemade skincare and early morning walks. Probably in her late 20s, her figure was full yet firm— curved hips, a narrow waist, and a soft but prominent bust that pressed against her blouse whenever she moved. Her saree blouse was modest, short-sleeved, but a bit damp—outlining just enough to stir the mind.

Abhi tried not to stare. He succeeded only half the time, but his stare could not escape her eyes.  She gave a naughty smile.

She looked around. “Nice place. Very… clean for a bachelor.”

“I try,” he smiled. “Karthik’s out tonight. Rain kept him stranded at his girlfriend’s place, I think.”

Madhavi chuckled softly. “Convenient.”

He handed her a box of candles. Their fingers touched. She didn’t pull away immediately.

“Would you like some halwa?” she asked, lifting the bowl she brought. “Made too much this evening.”

“Only if you eat with me.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “So confident for a 22-year-old.”

He shrugged. “Is that old or young?”

“Dangerously in between,” she said, walking to the dining table.

[shailu4ever]

She entered barefoot, the scent of sandalwood and rain clinging to her. Her saree hugged her waist, blouse damp enough to trace her shape. Abhi tried not to notice. He mostly failed.

“Nice place,” she said, glancing around. “Suspiciously clean for a bachelor.”
Handing her a towel, “I clean under pressure,” he grinned.

She took it with a smile, drying her arms delicately. Her pale blue saree clung to her in the right places—hips, waist, just beneath the curve of her blouse. The fabric shimmered faintly in the light, and a drop of rain traced the side of her neck.

“Halwa?”
“Made too much.” She held out the bowl.

Their fingers touched. She didn’t pull away.

He raised an eyebrow. “You usually feed the neighbors during storms?”
“My husband’s not home yet,” she said, simply. “Rain makes the flat too quiet.”

“You don’t look twenty-two,” she said, settling into the chair.
“And you don’t look like someone who waits for lights to go out before visiting.”
She smiled slowly. “Maybe I don’t.”

They sat, talking—light, teasing. She asked about his job, laughed at his coffee addiction. He watched the curve of her wrist, the way her blouse shifted when she leaned forward. The silence between their words was charged.

Eventually, a faint light flickered on across the hall. Her power was back. Madhavi stood, gathering her pallu.

“Well,” she said softly, “looks like I survived.”
He walked her to the door. “Next time, don’t wait for a blackout.”
She looked at him, eyes unreadable. “Next time, don’t answer the door wearing that shirt.”
Her gaze dipped—for just a moment—then she smiled, turned, and slipped out.
He shut the door slowly, pulse quick.

The bowl of halwa sat untouched on the table.

So was the tension in the air.

[shailu4ever]

After Hours at work

The office cafeteria buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of steel cups. It was Friday evening, and most of Abhi’s team was unwinding after a long sprint week. A team dinner was scheduled at 8, but until then, people lingered in groups, joking, gossiping, and pretending not to flirt.

Abhi sat on a stool by the coffee machine when Nikita (26, from the UI/UX team. Confident, sleek, always in smart kurtas or jeans.) walked in.

She wore a bottle-green kurta, snug enough to trace the slope of her waist, paired with skinny jeans that revealed toned legs. She was about 5’6", light wheatish complexion, slender, with sharp features—almond eyes that scanned a room quickly, and lips always slightly glossed. She was 26, carried herself like she knew her worth, and wasn’t afraid to test boundaries with her confidence.

“You always drink black coffee?” she asked, standing beside him.
“Only after 6 p.m.,” he replied, “Keeps me sharp. And you?”
She smirked. “Keeps me up. But I like the way you say it.”

He handed her a cup. Their fingers touched briefly. He noticed her nails were painted a deep maroon.

She leaned against the counter, sipping. “You’re quiet during meetings, but you say smart things when you do speak. That’s rare.”
“You watch me during meetings?”
She tilted her head. “I notice things.”
Their eyes lingered.
The tension wasn’t dramatic—but it was there. Natural. Smooth. A quiet pull under the skin.

Later, at the dinner table, Nikita took the seat beside him. The others joked loudly, passed plates, and clicked selfies, but their conversation stayed low, intimate.

“You know,” she said, halfway through her paneer tikka, “you have that calm, unreadable look. The kind that makes people wonder what’s going on in your head.”

“What do you think is going on?”

She locked eyes with him. “You don’t want me to answer that.”


As they waited for the cabs post-dinner, she stood beside him near the rain-damp entrance of the restaurant.

“You live far?”
“About 30 minutes,” she said. “Kondapur.”
“I’m 15 minutes away. Want me to book one and drop you halfway?”
“No need. But sweet offer.”

Then she stepped a little closer. Her perfume—musky and faintly floral—wrapped around him.

“Next time,” she whispered, “we should go somewhere quieter. Just us.”

Then she left.

He stood there a second longer, the heat of her words still fresh in his ears.

[shailu4ever]

Shravya Moves In—for a While

The next morning, Abhi's weekend peace was broken by his mother's voice on the phone.

“Shravya is joining coaching in Ameerpet, but her hostel isn't ready yet. Let her stay with you for a few days. She’s like your little sister!”

“She’s just a year younger than me.”

“Still.”

By evening, Shravya arrived—pulling a small pink trolley, hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a loose T-shirt and leggings. She had always been the playful, bubbly cousin. Now 21, she had grown into a cheerful, curvy young woman—5’4", fair-skinned, with rounded cheeks and expressive eyes. Her body had blossomed into a full figure—ample hips, soft thighs, and a gentle fullness around her chest that hugged her clothes closely.

Abhi helped carry her bags inside.

“This place is cute!” she said, dropping her bag in the living room. “You have a roommate?”

“He’s gone for the weekend. So it’s just us.”

She raised an eyebrow playfully. “Dangerous.”

He chuckled. “Don’t push your luck.”

That night, they shared dinner on the couch—watching a comedy movie, blanket stretched across their legs. At one point, her foot nudged his knee under the blanket. He looked at her. She pretended not to notice.

Later, she stepped out of the bathroom in his oversized T-shirt and shorts. T-shirt slips on one side of her shoulder reveling milky white shoulders. Her damp hair clung to her neck, the fabric of the shirt rising slightly at her hips. She stretched her arms, yawned, then leaned against the wall.

Abhi could not move his eyes of her, as the age of 21 she is fully grown and looking Gorgeous. Her shorts perfect fit and hugging her upper thighs, giving him a feast of those soft and smooth thighs, tempting him to touch

“I hope I’m not troubling you,” she said, blinking slowly. “I feel safer here than anywhere else.”

Abhi swallowed hard, trying not to let his eyes drift too low.

“You’re fine,” he said. “It’s just… close quarters.”

She smiled. “We’ll manage. I don’t take much space.”

She slipped into bed—his bed, actually—while he laid a mat on the floor beside her. She turned off the lights. 


A few minutes of silence passed. Then she whispered:

“Abhi… do you remember when we used to play doctor-doctor as kids?”

He didn’t reply.

She giggled. “Just wondering if you still like games.”

---

[shailu4ever]

I would appreciate your suggestions and comments on this story. That helps me to steer it accordingly.

[Yash121]

Nice start

[shailu4ever]

Nice start

Thank you Yash

[Hotyyhard]

excellent start

[Cuckoldindian]

https://xossipy.com/thread-69055.html.

How about a collab?

[shailu4ever]

excellent start

Thank you, I will try not to disappoint you guys.

[shailu4ever]

https://xossipy.com/thread-69055.html.

How about a collab?

Thanks for the message, tell me what's in your mind

[shailu4ever]

The Cousin Who Grew Up Too Well

The lights were off.

The only sound was the ceiling fan creaking gently above them, and the soft hum of traffic far below. Abhi lay on the floor, one arm folded under his head, the mat beneath him barely easing the hardness of the tiles.

A few feet above, on his bed, Shravya had curled up under the blanket. But not before leaving behind a trail of confusion in his mind.

“Do you remember when we used to play doctor-doctor?”

The line had echoed inside him even after she giggled and turned away. She was teasing, sure—but there was something about the way she said it. Casual on the surface. Almost innocent. But just… just ambiguous enough to linger in a man’s thoughts.

He remembers that game they used to play, he used to play as doctor and she was the patient.

He turned slightly on the floor, staring at the edge of the bed. Her breathing was slow now. She was asleep.

He couldn’t help it—he slowly, quietly, lifted his head and looked.

The blanket had shifted slightly.

Shravya had kicked one leg free in her sleep, the hem of his oversized T-shirt riding up her thigh. The stretch of soft, fair skin glowed faintly in the light from the window. Her shorts had twisted up one side, revealing more thigh than she likely knew, warm and soft.

Her face looks innocent while she is sleeping and her lips are looking soft and inviting without any makeup.  He couldn’t help but looking at them.  The deep desire to kiss her lips in her sleep increasing as he is looking at her lips closely.

Abhi’s eyes lingered on the curve of her hip, the way her waist narrowed in from her full thighs, the soft movement of her breasts rising and falling with each breath under the thin fabric of her oversized T-shirt.  He can clearly see that she is not wearing any bra underneath that.  They looked very soft and hard at the same time.

She wasn’t the girl who used to chase him with plastic cricket bats in summer holidays anymore.

She was a woman now—curvy, uninhibited, and entirely too comfortable around him.

And that comfort was dangerous.

He swallowed and lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn’t supposed to think these thoughts.

But her scent was on his pillow. Her body was inches away. And in the quiet darkness of the night, even self-control had edges.

[shailu4ever]

Morning Mischief

The morning light filtered through the curtains. Abhi was already up, brushing his teeth when he heard the rustle of the blanket behind him.

Shravya sat up groggily on the bed, stretching with a soft yawn. Her T-shirt slid off one shoulder, exposing her smooth, fair skin and a hint of the deep valley in between her majestic heights. She didn’t even realize it.  Abhi couldn’t even attempt to look away.

“You woke up early,” she said, voice husky. Realized where he is looking, a mischievous smile lingered on her lips.  “Do you want to do a check up Mr.Doctor?” she asked with a wink.

He avoided looking directly at her. He stumbled  “Couldn’t sleep much.”

“Why? Because of my doctor-doctor joke?” she asked, smirking with sleepy eyes. “You still think I’m a kid, huh?”

He didn’t answer.

She walked past him to the bathroom, barefoot, the curve of her hips clearly outlined beneath the slightly lifted T-shirt. Her thighs had that full, natural softness that made his eyes linger before he could stop himself.

And yet—nothing happened. She didn’t mean to provoke. It was just her being her.

Which somehow made it worse.

As she shut the bathroom door behind her, Abhi heard a knock on the front door.

He opened it.

A new face greeted him. Mid-20s. Slender, tall—around 5'7"—with golden-brown skin and a sharp nose. Her eyes were alert, her lips bare. She wore yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly post-workout.

“Hi! Sorry, just moved into 403,” she said brightly. “I’m Meghana. I think I took your Amazon package by mistake.”

She handed over a parcel and smiled. “You live here alone?”

“Uh—yeah. I mean, sort of. Roommate’s away. Cousin’s visiting.”

“Cool. I’m just above. Don’t mind if I come to borrow sugar sometime.”

And with a wink, she was gone.

Abhi closed the door, package in hand, heartbeat slightly faster.

[shailu4ever]

Hi all

A little encouragement would be really wonderful. As this is my first time, it actually helps me.

Hope you like this story

-- Shailu

[shailu4ever]

Back in the office

Back in the office, things had returned to routine.

Or mostly.

Nikita passed by his cubicle, flicking her long straight hair off her shoulder, her kurta today a soft lavender, tight around her waist and bust. She dropped a file on his table with a grin. “We’re on the same project.”

He didn’t know whether that was good or dangerous.

Later, during lunch, she sat next to him again—close enough that their thighs brushed when she leaned sideways to whisper.

“You always smell like sandalwood. That’s kind of addictive.”

Before he could reply, another voice interrupted.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

It was Pavani, from HR.  Petite and busty, with a bubbly tone but smart eyes that didn’t miss much. She wore a simple white blouse and navy-blue jeans. Unlike Nikita, who teased like a slow flame, Pavani was casual, observant, but just as quick with layered jokes.

She grinned at Abhi as she sat. “Nikita’s marked you, huh? Careful. She plays slow but hits hard.”

Nikita rolled her eyes. “Ignore her. She’s jealous.”

“I am,” Pavani admitted without shame. “But also curious. You never flirt, Abhi. Like you’re saving it for something.”

“I just don’t want HR complaints.”

“Smart boy,” Pavani said, winking.

From across the table, another girl watched quietly—Anusha, a new trainee in the data team. Just 20, very quiet, very observant. Tall and lean, with long black curls, dusky bronze skin, and a delicate figure, she mostly listened. But today, her eyes were on him more than usual.

Something was growing. Around him. Inside him.

And it wasn’t just lust—it was the slow, sensual chaos of multiple women, each different, circling in and out of his days.