Just got ready for the night. Husband thinks I’m heading to a formal dinner.
But look at me… this dress, no panties, already wet just thinking about what could happen instead.
Tell me what you’d do if you saw me like this tonight. Be filthy.
My best friend’s husband saw me like this right before we left for dinner. He whispered that yellow was “dangerous” on me and adjusted my necklace himself. His fingers lingered. My husband was in the other room. I didn’t move. I wanted to see if he’d do it again.
Cousin’s sangeet. Husband got drunk with the baraatis, passed out by 10. His childhood best friend taught me the steps “properly.” Hands at my waist, sequins catching light. He whispered corrections no one else heard. We missed half the performances. Nobody noticed.
My ex from college found me online last week. I told him I’m married now. He said “show me how married.” So I did. Now he’s in town “for work” and standing outside my hotel door. I’m looking back like this before I decide if I’m unlocking it.
I wore this to meet my younger cousin’s fiancé for the first time. He’s 5 years younger, engaged, and can’t stop looking anywhere but my face. He asked if I always dress like this when my husband’s not around. I said only when I want someone to notice
Husband cancelled the trip last minute. Non-refundable room, so I came alone. Bartender at the shack kept the drinks strong and the eye contact stronger. Said the pink suited the sunset. Said I didn’t look like someone waiting for a husband. He was right. I wasn’t.
Vacation wardrobe check. Husband was on a call with investors, again. His old college friend dropped by to return a charger. Caught me in this. Didn’t apologize. I didn’t cover up. “Your husband’s lucky,” he said. Wasn’t thinking of my husband when I asked him to tie the top.
Interview ran long. The HR head walked me out, hand almost touching my back. “You’ll fit right in,” he said. Didn’t correct him about the ring I’d left at home that morning. Heels clicked too loud on those steps. His office door shut quieter than mine should have.
Video call ended. Husband hung up, work trip extended. His flatmate heard the shower running and knocked — “water pressure okay?” Door was open an inch. Mirror didn’t hide much. Neither did I. Plain band came off before the towel did. We both blamed the steam.
Rain hit the windows hard. The power flickered once and died. Candles came out. His friend from Mumbai was stranded, flights cancelled. He called to say stay put. The inverter kept beeping. So did the space between us. Wine poured. Necklines dipped. Morning felt very far away.
Cousin’s destination wedding. He was the photographer, not family. Said the light was perfect at golden hour. Said I was too. Husband was with the baraat, drunk on the other side of the resort. One knot on the side came undone. He fixed it. Slow. Neither of us left the beach.
The AC was too cold, but the red blouse wasn’t helping. Husband was stuck at the client site. His junior from accounts kept refilling the punch. Thigh brushed mine under the table. Twice. No apology. Left hand learned to lie for the night. Right hand didn’t.
You said you’d help me pick a dress for the office party. Husband’s cousin, always “just family.” Trial room light hits different. I step out, keyhole cut deeper than I told him I’d buy. Your hands fix my dupatta. Mine stay on your wrist.
Tried this embroidered blouse at a boutique today. The sales guy said it “fits perfect” and zipped me up slowly. The mirror showed my soft belly shifting under the silk… a gentle warm surprise slipped out as he stepped closer 🦨💦 That trial room got risky.
Hubby knows I often slip up to the terrace for some fresh air… and sometimes fresh adventures. The neighbor from across joined me “to check the view.” His eyes on my saree pleats made me release a soft warm cloud right there in the breeze 😏💨 My soft belly loved the attention.
Sales team said this green saree “needs gold bangles to complete the look.” He held my wrist to try them on, validation seeking kicking in. A gentle warm puff escaped when his thumb brushed my soft waist. Oops 😈🍑💨
Sunday morning closet cleanup. Bent to grab those jeans and my younger tenant walked in with spare keys. That sleepy, stretched-out feeling hit — a slow warm whisper slipped from me while I held the pout. His jaw actually dropped 👃😈
“You always liked the coast,” he said. He remembered. From ten summers ago. Now he’s holding two drinks, offering me the one without ice. Says “some things are better warm”. The white wrap isn’t one of them. But his voice is. High tide at 5. It’s 4:42 🌊🍯
“Water pressure low” was the complaint. He came to fix it. Pressure is fine. My pulse isn’t. Says “should I check the terrace line?”. I say “check mine”. The pipe is dry. I’m not. 3pm traffic is loud. What happens at 3:01 won’t be 🔧💦
He walked past the pool twice already. Says “checking chlorine”. His eyes haven’t checked the water once. The wooden beam is warm, so is his stare. Husband’s upstairs on a call about work. Says he’ll be an hour. We both know an hour is a lifetime when the sun hits like this ☀️🖤