Akshay stood frozen, his heart hammering, the sight searing into his mind. Her moans, soft yet piercing, were a siren’s call, igniting a fire in his core. His body betrayed him, his arousal straining against his trousers, a painful ache that mirrored the guilt gnawing at his soul. He couldn’t tear his eyes away—her glistening skin, the curve of her body, the raw intimacy of her pleasure. As Sonam turned off the shower, her breath steadying, she reached for a towel, wrapping it around her still-flushed form. She stepped out, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, unaware of the eyes that had witnessed her surrender.
Akshay retreated, his movements clumsy as he stumbled back to his room, his erection a throbbing reminder of his forbidden hunger. He closed the door, leaning against it, his breath ragged as the image of Sonam—her body arching, her hands claiming her pleasure—burned in his mind, a secret he’d carry like a smoldering ember.
One humid evening, as Patna sweltered under a pre-monsoon haze, Akariti declared she needed a bath and slipped into the small bathroom off the hallway. The door, as always, was left slightly ajar—a habit from their carefree college days. Vivek, alone in the living room, heard the faint rush of water, his pulse quickening. Temptation pulled him closer, his breath shallow as he approached the cracked door, knowing he shouldn’t but unable to stop.
Through the narrow gap, he saw her. Akariti stood in the bathroom, the dim light casting soft shadows across her skin. She peeled off her frock, the fabric sliding down her shoulders to reveal her breasts, their gentle curves catching the light, the rosy peaks hardening in the cool air. Her shorts followed, slipping down her thighs to the floor, exposing the smooth length of her legs, the subtle flare of her hips, and the tantalizing curve of her ass. She stepped under the shower, water sluicing over her body, each droplet tracing paths down her collarbone, over her 34B breasts, and along the flat plane of her stomach.
Akariti’s eyes closed, her lips parting as she surrendered to the water’s caress. Her hands moved with deliberate grace, one trailing down her neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin, the other sliding lower, pausing at the curve of her hip. College memories flooded back—late-night talks with friends, giggling over fantasies of lovers who’d claim her with fierce, unyielding passion. Now, trapped in Patna’s suffocating routine, her body demanded release. Her fingers dipped between her thighs, teasing the sensitive folds, a soft moan escaping as she found her rhythm. The water’s warmth amplified every sensation, her skin alive with need.
Her other hand cupped her breast, fingers circling the hardened peak, drawing a shudder as she leaned into the pleasure. Her movements grew urgent, her hips swaying, her breath ragged as she chased the rising tide. Her fingers moved faster, her moans growing louder, mingling with the water’s rush, until a tremor shook her, her body arching as the orgasm crashed over her, a wave of heat that left her trembling, her skin flushed with ecstasy.