In the heart of New Delhi, a woman named Priya lived alone in a small apartment. She was a stunning Indian woman with long, black hair and a curvaceous figure. One night, as she was getting ready for bed, she decided to indulge in a little self-pleasure.
Priya slipped out of her silk robe, letting it fall to the floor. She stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, admiring her nude body. Her dark skin glowed in the dim light of her bedroom, and her full breasts and round hips were impossible to ignore. She ran her hands over her body, feeling the heat build between her legs.
She climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her waist. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, imagining the touch of a man’s hands on her body. She let out a soft moan as she began to touch herself, her fingers finding their way to her wet pussy.
As she lay there, she heard a soft knock at her window. She opened her eyes and sat up, looking around her room. She didn’t see anything, but the knock came again. She got out of bed and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains.
Outside, she saw a man standing in the shadows. He was tall and muscular, with dark skin and piercing eyes. Priya’s heart raced as she realized he was watching her. She should have been scared, but instead, she felt a surge of desire.
She opened the window and leaned out. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m Raj,” he said, his voice deep and husky. “I saw you in the mirror, and I couldn’t resist.”
