The weeks following our passionate nights together strengthened our bond, but real life began testing it. Work kept us busy — Priya with her fashion deadlines in Gurgaon, me with tight freelance projects in Noida. Still, we made time for stolen visits and long calls. One Thursday evening, I drove to her apartment again, eager to lose myself in her body and presence.

She greeted me at the door in lingerie — red lace that barely contained her curves. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she purred, pulling me inside. “My pussy has been aching all day.”