In the dimly lit room, a woman with raven-black hair and a curvaceous figure stood before a full-length mirror. She was nude, her thick back and round bottom beckoning to the shadows. Her name was Priya, a woman of Indian descent who had moved to the city to pursue her dreams of becoming a famous singer.
As she stood there, admiring her reflection, she heard a soft knock at the door. She turned to see a man standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with desire. His name was Ravi, a talented musician who had caught Priya’s eye at a recent audition.
“Priya, I couldn’t wait any longer,” he said, his voice husky with longing. “I had to see you again.”
