I chuckled. “Ha ha.” “Why are you laughing?”
“Who told you that nothing happened? I haven’t finished the story.” “But you said you both just slept, right?”
“Yeah, but the trip’s not over yet, madam.” “Oh! Then continue please.”
“Yeah, physical sex happened yesterday, and then we came back home.” “Hey, explain it!”
“See, I can’t.” “Why?”
“Why? Because you’re my sister-in-law! If my brother finds out I’m telling you these things, he will kill me.”
Anasooya’s face twisted into anger. “Your brother, shit! I hope that man is with his girlfriend in Germany.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he’s not coming back. They are in a live-in relationship over there.” “What?”
“I’ll tell you later. Now, please consider me as your friend and tell me.” “But…”
“Please, leave that for now and tell me the rest of the story in detail.” Ok I continued the story.
The morning in Ooty was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the humid heat we’d left behind. We’d woken up with the sun streaming through the gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across our bed. After a leisurely walk through the mist-kissed hills, we found a cozy little café and devoured platefuls of idli and sambar, the warmth chasing away the morning chill. Back in the resort room, the quiet settled around us like a comfortable blanket.
“Okay,” I said, checking my watch. “So, we need to leave by 1 PM to reach home by 7 PM. That gives us three to four hours. What do you wanna do?” The question hung in the air, a little too innocent, even to my own ears.
Zarah turned from where she was admiring the view from the balcony. Her eyes, dark and sparkling, scanned my face, a mischievous glint playing in their depths. “Vishal,” she said slowly, her voice a low purr, “are you acting like an extra decent boy, or are you actually an extra decent guy?”
My brow furrowed. “Why? What happened?” I was genuinely confused. Was I not being myself?
She laughed, a melodious sound that made my chest tighten. “No, I mean, after all the effort you put in to bring me here, you haven’t even tried to be naughty. Not even a little.”
I blinked. “Well, you did say, Zarah, ‘don’t touch me without permission,’ remember?” I’d been so careful, so mindful of her boundaries, I’d probably walked the line of being a complete prude.
Her eyes widened dramatically. “I didn’t say that. You said that you wouldn’t touch me without permission.” Her tone was playful, but there was an undeniable current beneath the surface.
“Yeah, but… both are the same, right?” I stammered, feeling myself getting lost in her labyrinth of logic. “No, not the same!” she exclaimed, her laughter bubbling over.
“Means what then?” I asked, the confusion clear in my voice.
“Oh, so you are an exact fool guy,” she teased, stepping closer, a conspiratorial smile gracing her lips. “That means…?” I prompted, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“That means…” she paused, drawing out the moment. “I think so,” She finally said, her voice barely a whisper, a playful challenge in her eyes.
And that was all it took. The realization, the unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface, finally broke free. I bolted the door with a resounding click, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. She was right there, a breathtaking vision of feminine charm, waiting, wanting. The air crackled with an unspoken tension.
She started to step backwards, her eyes never leaving mine, until her back met the cool wall. I placed my hands on either side of her head, effectively trapping her. The space between us was charged, a magnetic pull drawing us irresistibly closer. I leaned in, my gaze locking with hers, and kissed her.
Her lips were soft, pliant, like the petals of a rose. It was a slow, deliberate kiss, exploring the contours of her mouth, tasting the sweet essence of her. I wanted more, I craved her. The kiss deepened, our tongues dancing in a sensual ballet that sparked a fire within me.
Her hands found my head, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. The kisses grew wilder, more urgent. Her breath hitched as I deepened the kiss, her chest heaving against mine. I could feel the hardened tips of her nipples pressing against the fabric of her T-shirt. All my senses were alive, fueled by the primal pull between us.