The Diwali festival’s glow lingered in Sonia’s mind as she woke on Saturday, her body still buzzing from the vendor’s bold touch and Rohan’s hungry eyes watching from the car. The apartment was quiet, the kids sprawled in their room with coloring books, their acceptance of her nudist ways a strange freedom. Sonia slipped into a black camisole, its thin spaghetti straps and sheer fabric ending just at her ass cheeks, her 34DD breasts bouncing freely, nipples pressing against the cotton. The sleeveless armholes gaped, revealing the sides of her breasts, nearly popping out as she moved, her armpits exposed with every stretch. No panties left her bare, her vaginal hair trimmed into a neat arrow pointing to her visible clitoris, a detail that made every step a provocative dare.
Rohan lounged on the couch, his eyes dark with anticipation. “You were a fucking slut last night,” he said, his voice thick. “The vendor’s hands all over you. I saw everything.” He leaned forward, jeans tight. “Tonight, the apartment stairs. Pick a random guy—delivery boy, neighbor, anyone. Fuck him right there. I’ll be watching from the service stairwell.”
Sonia’s core tightened, her breath catching at the audacity. The apartment stairs were dimly lit, a public yet secluded space where tenants passed occasionally. “You want me to get caught?” she teased, straddling him, the camisole riding up to expose her bare ass and the arrow of hair pointing to her glistening clit. Her breasts swayed, the side curves spilling out through the armholes.
“I want you to be my whore,” Rohan growled, his hands gripping her thighs. “Every detail, Sonia. Make it filthy.” She kissed him, her tongue teasing his, then pulled back as Nia called from the hallway, “Mom, can we go to the park?” Sonia adjusted her camisole, the fabric barely covering her, and smiled. “Later, sweetie. Mom’s got things to do.”
That evening, the apartment building hummed with weekend activity. Sonia stood by the open front door, still in her black camisole, the sheer fabric clinging to her 34DD breasts, the armholes gaping to reveal their full curves, her nipples hard and visible. Her bare ass peeked out as she leaned against the doorframe, her trimmed arrow of hair and exposed clit a blatant invitation. She’d told Rohan she was “checking the mailbox,” but the stairs were her stage.
A delivery boy, maybe 20, with a lean frame and nervous eyes, climbed the stairs, a package in hand. Sonia stepped into the stairwell, the dim fluorescent light casting shadows on her skin. “Need help finding an apartment?” she purred, letting the camisole ride up as she moved closer, her breasts nearly spilling out, the side curves fully exposed through the armholes. His eyes widened, locked on her body, the package forgotten.
“Uh, 4B,” he stammered, but his gaze dropped to her trimmed arrow, her clit visible as she shifted, legs slightly parted. Sonia glanced at the service stairwell door, cracked open, knowing Rohan was watching, his breath heavy in the shadows. She leaned closer to the boy, her breasts brushing his arm, and whispered, “Follow me.”