Radhika, a stunning Indian woman in her early twenties, stood before the full-length mirror, her thick black hair cascading down her bare back. She admired her toned physique, her caramel skin glowing in the soft light of her bedroom. She had always been confident in her own skin, but tonight she felt a stirring within her, a desire that she couldn’t ignore.
She ran her fingers over the curves of her body, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. She traced the outline of her breasts, her nipples hardening at her touch. She closed her eyes, imagining the hands of a mysterious lover roaming over her body, igniting a flame within her.
She turned to face the mirror, her eyes meeting her own reflection. She bit her lip, her gaze lingering on her bare breasts, her dark nipples standing erect. She reached up, cupping her breasts in her hands, teasing her nipples with her thumbs. She let out a soft moan, her breath hitching in her throat.
She slid her hand down her body, over her flat stomach, and into the waistband of her panties. She gasped as her fingers found her wetness, her body ready for the touch of a lover. She began to stroke herself, her moans growing louder as she quickened her pace.
Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door. She froze, her heart racing in her chest. She quickly pulled her hand from her panties, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Radhika, are you in there?” a voice called out. It was Aarav, her best friend and neighbor.
“Yes, I’m here,” she called out, her voice shaky.
