In the heart of New Delhi, a scorching hot afternoon was coming to a close. The air was thick with humidity, and the sounds of the bustling city echoed through the narrow streets. In a small, dimly lit apartment, a young man named Ravi lay on his bed, restless and unable to shake the thoughts that had been consuming him for days.
Ravi had always been fascinated by the beautiful Indian woman who lived in the apartment next door. She was a few years older than him, with a voluptuous figure and long, black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. He had often caught glimpses of her through their shared wall, but he had never had the courage to speak to her.
But today, something had changed. Ravi had come home to find the woman standing outside her apartment, looking lost and unsure. He had offered to help her, and before he knew it, they were standing in her living room, talking and laughing like old friends.
As they spoke, Ravi couldn’t help but notice the way the woman’s curves filled out her sari. He felt his heart rate quicken and his palms grow sweaty. He knew he wanted her, but he also knew that he would have to tread carefully.
Finally, as the sun began to set, the woman excused herself to go and change. Ravi waited anxiously in her living room, his mind racing with thoughts of what might happen next.
When the woman returned, she was wearing a tight, revealing dress that left little to the imagination. Ravi’s eyes widened as he took her in, and he felt a surge of desire course through his veins.
Without a word, the woman crossed the room and sat down next to Ravi. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you,” she whispered.
