Chapter 4

As I kissed her again, this time I felt no hesitation from her it was as if she had fully accepted what was happening. My hands moved to her waist and caressed her gently, while my lips brushed against her neck. Her hands stayed on my head, holding tightly, as I trailed soft kisses down along her skin across her chest and stomach until I neared her hip.

I took a deep breath, catching the faint scent of her soap mixed with hers. My left hand rested on her legs, moving slowly upward beneath her saree, until it neared her thighs. Sensing my touch there, she shivered slightly, her breath unsteady. The air between us felt, heavy with unspoken desires.

Just then, a voice called from downstairs.

“Ramya!”

She flinched, the moment breaking, and slowly pulled my hands away, almost apologetically.

I groaned softly under my breath and stood up.

She adjusted her blouse and saree, glancing at me briefly before looking away.

“Ramya?” her husband called again, louder this time.

“Please come down,” she said quietly.

I nodded and stepped aside, letting her go first.

I waited for a few minutes, trying to calm myself to calm both my thoughts and my cock. Then I adjusted my shorts and went downstairs.

Her husband was waiting at the door. Ramya was nowhere to be seen, I could hear sounds from the kitchen.

“Come, let’s go,” he said, already walking toward his bike.

We rode together to buy drinks and some snacks, talking casually on the way. When we returned, he placed the bottles and packets on the table in front of the sofa.

Ramya came out of her room, glanced at the table and then at us. I smiled a bit self-consciously.

“Is the fish ready?” he asked her.

“Yes, I’ll bring the food,” she replied evenly, then went back inside.

Once she set the table, we got up to wash. Since we had been outside, I wanted to wash my face, hands, and legs too.

“I’ll go and wash at my house,” I said, turning toward the door.

“Wait, bro wash here,” he said.

“No, I’ll go and come back shortly,” I replied.

Before I could leave, I heard Ramya’s voice soft, quiet, yet clear.

“You can wash here.”

I stopped and turned, slightly surprised.

“See? No problem,” her husband said. “Come, I’ll go first, you can take your time.”

He went to his room. I stood there awkwardly for a moment until Ramya gave a small smile. “Come,” she said gently. “He’ll ask for a towel now.”

Right on time, he called for towel. She went into the room, took a towel, and handed it to him.

A moment later, he stepped out, drying his face and arms, and passed the towel to me.

“I’ll set everything up before you come,” he said, walking to the hall without waiting for a reply.

I stood watching him leave, then turned toward the bathroom. Ramya stood by the bed, holding another towel. She came near, handed it to me, and waited.

It was the same towel I’d seen her use that morning. The faint smell was hers without doubt.

Inside, I washed my face and hands. When I looked up, she was standing at the door, watching silently.

Without saying anything, she reached inside and handed me a soap tray. Our fingers brushed lightly as I took it. The same scent I smelled on her.

Something in me stirred again at the nearness and memory of that smell. I washed quickly, trying to calm myself.

When I stepped back into the room, she was still there. Our eyes met briefly. I brought the towel to my face, breathing in the smell before drying off.

She smiled faintly, then glanced toward the hall where her husband was pouring drinks and laying out snacks.

Sensing a moment, I moved closer to her drawn by instinct. She didn’t step back. I leaned in slightly, close enough to catch the scent of her hair. She shivered but stood there without moving, suddenly I took her face in my hands and pushed her back near the wall, kissing fiercely, she responded with same feeling.

I caressed her waist and neck while kissing, after a moment came to my sense and separated from her. She looked at me breathing heavily. Handing the towel to her I looked down at my shorts, yep there is definite tent there. She also looked at there and looked at my eyes, blushing and as if understood she put the towel on the bed and went to the hall, giving me sometime to cool down.

After a short while, I joined them in the hall. Her husband was already seated on the sofa, pouring drinks into two glasses. Ramya moved between the kitchen and the dining area,

“Try the fish gravy,” he said, handing me a plate.

I took a bite and nodded. “It’s great.”

He smiled and went back to eating. Ramya served us both, brushing past me every time. Each touch sent a small stirring through me.

Once lunch was over, we washed our hands and returned to the hall. The TV playing some old movie neither of us paid attention to. He focused on his drink, pouring himself round.

Ramya had gone to her room, tending to her baby. From where I sat, I could see her through the half-open door sitting on the bed.

“Tell me when to stop,” he said, pouring the liquor into my glass.

“Enough,” I said when the level reached.

He mixed his drink and took a sip, then began talking about work, about life, about the small frustrations of everyday things. His tone was relaxed, warm, the open that comes with alcohol.

I listened, nodding when needed, though my thoughts kept drifting. Expecting Ramya to come out.

He leaned back, glass in hand. “She’s a good one, isn’t she?” he asked suddenly.

I froze slightly, uncertain of what he meant.

He grinned. “Come on, bro, I meant Rubini. The neighbour girl.”

I let out a breath and chuckled softly. “Ah, right. Yeah,.”

“There’s something about her,” he said, his voice slurred now.

“Maybe,” I replied vaguely, not wanting to continue the topic.

He laughed, then took another sip and started talking again about cricket this time, and his plans for the future. I tried to listen, but my mind was elsewhere. For a brief moment, guilt touched me, he seemed like a nice man.

After a while, his words began to slow. He leaned back into the sofa, eyes half-closed, and finally stopped talking.

“You, all right?” I asked quietly.

He nodded weakly. “Yeah, just a little drunk,” he mumbled, then set his glass down and lay back. Within minutes, he was asleep.

The TV continued to play. I turned it off, stood for a moment, and then decided to leave.

I stepped out, closing the door gently behind me, locked the gate with my spare key, and walked up to my house. My head buzzed faintly from the alcohol.

I went to my bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling.

Somewhere below, I heard faint sounds footsteps, I heard sound of the gate, knock maybe. I ignored it at first, assuming it was nothing.

Then my front door opened.

I sat up slowly. I must have forgotten to lock it when I came in. There, standing in the hall, was Ramya.

She stood at my room doorway.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“Hmm ... yes,” I replied after a pause, still surprised to see her there.

“He fell asleep on the sofa,” she said, stepping inside. “You weren’t there, so I came up to check.”