Behind Closed Doors – Part 2

Previous Part: Behind Closed Doors – Part 1

Thank you all for your thoughtful responses to the previous part of the story; your feedback has been invaluable. If you haven’t read it yet, you can catch up on the story.

Richa stood by the window. Her hands gripped the curtain as she watched Harsh’s car disappear around the corner. She wore a light blue night suit—a soft cotton shirt that hung loosely around her. It was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her skin.

The matching pyjama pants swayed slightly against her legs. Beneath it, she wore only a black panty. The absence of a bra left her breasts free. The fabric brushed against her skin with each movement. The early morning light barely touched the quiet streets of the society, still shrouded in dawn’s soft haze.

Harsh had claimed it was a three-day work trip. But doubt had rooted itself deeply in Richa’s heart. The lingering perfume on his shirts, the late-night absences, the coldness in his touch. Everything pointed to something or someone else.

For months, she had brushed away her suspicions, telling herself it was just her mind playing tricks. But now, the weight of her silent suffering was too much to bear. The loneliness wasn’t new. But this morning, it pressed down on her like never before.

The silence in their home was too loud, the rooms too large. The weight of unspoken truths was too heavy for her to carry any longer. Harsh’s car vanished from sight. A mix of emotions swirled inside her—pain, anger, and something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years: a burning desire to break free.

She was tired of waiting for a love that never came. Tired of being the invisible wife whose needs and desires were pushed aside. With Harsh gone, she saw her chance to reclaim her life. To feel something—anything—besides the numbness that had settled over her heart.

Her hand shook as she picked up her phone and dialled Arpit’s number. When he answered, there was a steadiness in her voice that surprised even her, but beneath it lay an urgency she couldn’t mask. “Can you come over for breakfast?” she asked.

Her words were simple. But the plea behind them is unmistakable. She didn’t want to be alone. Not today. She needed someone to talk to—someone who understood. Arpit arrived quickly. Concern was etched on his face as he stepped into the apartment.

He could sense the tension the moment he saw her. He was casually dressed in grey shorts and a black t-shirt, the fit of the clothes hugging his toned frame just right. His hair was slightly ruffled, and his concern for her was clear the moment he stepped inside.

Richa, always so composed and dignified, now looked fragile, like a woman standing on the edge of a precipice. But beneath that fragility, Arpit could see something else—a spark, a fire that had been long dormant, now flickering back to life.

They sat at the dining table, sunlight spilling across the room, chasing away the lingering shadows. Richa pushed her plate away, unable to force herself to eat. She stared at her hands for a long moment before speaking. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Harsh is having an affair. I know it.” Her words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, as if saying them aloud finally made them real. Arpit’s heart ached for her. He had always admired Richa, not just for her strength but for the quiet vulnerability she so rarely showed.

Today, though, she was different—her walls were crumbling. He reached across the table and took her hand, his touch gentle but firm. “You don’t deserve this, Richa. You deserve so much more.”

She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’ve spent years trying to be the perfect wife, trying to make him happy. And for what?” Her voice cracked. “I feel so lost, Arpit. So alone.”

Arpit squeezed her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re not alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

But something had shifted inside Richa. She wasn’t just seeking comfort or protection anymore. She had been sheltered for too long, boxed in by expectations and her fears. Now, she wanted something more—freedom, passion, and the right to feel alive again.

She looked at Arpit, and at that moment, the decision was made. No more waiting. No more denial. She leaned in closer, her gaze locking with his. “I don’t want to feel alone anymore,” she whispered, but her voice carried a new edge—one filled with hunger and need.

Slowly, deliberately, she moved his hand from hers and placed it on her breast, her breath catching as she pressed his palm against her. Arpit froze, his eyes widening in surprise. “Richa?” he began. But she silenced him with a kiss—fierce, desperate, filled with all the emotions she had kept bottled up for so long.

Her lips moved against his with urgency. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. The initial shock faded quickly as Arpit felt her desperation, her yearning. He kissed her back slowly at first, but the intensity between them grew with each passing second.

His hands, hesitant at first, began to explore her body, trailing down her back and pulling her closer. Richa moaned into his mouth, her body arching towards him, craving his touch, his warmth. When they finally broke the kiss, both were breathless.

Arpit saw the depth of her longing, her need to be seen, to be wanted. “Make me feel alive again, Arpit,” she whispered, her voice trembling with vulnerability and desire. “Please, I need this.” Arpit’s heart raced, but it wasn’t just desire that fueled him—it was something deeper.

He wanted to give her what she needed, not just physically but emotionally. He gently cupped her face in his hands, brushing his thumb across her cheek before kissing her again. Slower this time, tender and full of the unspoken promise between them.

She kissed him again, more fiercely this time. Her tongue explored his mouth as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Arpit reciprocated with wilder kisses. Richa’s heart raced as Arpit’s kisses grew more insistent. He gently guided her towards the bed, his lips never leaving hers.

The bed where Richa used to sleep with Harsh and had infrequent, distant sex now felt like a place of new beginnings. The same sheets that once held their fading passion were about to witness Richa’s most intense and unforgettable pleasure.

She was set to experience a level of satisfaction and connection she had never known before. With each step, the urgency of their desire seemed to intensify. Their breaths mingled in heated exchanges. They reached the edge of the bed. Arpit pushed her down gently.

His hands explored her body with a reverence that spoke of both admiration and desire. He paused to gaze at her, the hunger in his eyes reflecting the intense need they both felt. Slowly, deliberately, he began to unbutton her light blue pyjama shirt. His fingers were trembling slightly with anticipation.

Each button he undid revealed more of her skin. The fabric parted to expose the lush curves of her breasts, already straining against the material. When the shirt was fully open, Arpit’s gaze was drawn to her exposed breasts. Richa’s boobs were beautiful, full and inviting, their delicate curves bathed in the soft light.

He cupped them gently, his fingers exploring the softness of her flesh. Richa’s breath caught in her throat. He bent down to place tender kisses along the tops of her breasts. His lips brushed against her skin with a mixture of tenderness and desire.

Arpit’s touch was slow and deliberate. He began to pay attention to her nipples, his fingers brushing lightly over them, making them harden in response. He kissed each nipple. His tongue darted out to taste her, to feel the warmth and texture of her body.

He lavished attention on her breasts, his lips and tongue moving in a rhythm that was both passionate and reverent. Richa moaned softly, her hands tangling in his hair as he continued his exploration. His kisses were a blend of gentle caresses and more fervent touches.

He alternated between licking, sucking, and nipping at her sensitive skin. His mouth moved with a purposeful slowness, savouring every moment, every reaction from her. He took his time. His fingers traced delicate patterns over her breasts. His thumbs rubbed gently against her nipples as he kissed and nibbled.

Richa’s back arched, her body pressing into his touch, craving the sensation of his lips and hands on her. The pleasure was exquisite, every touch and kiss heightening her senses, drawing out the intensity of the moment.

Arpit’s hands roamed over her body, gently cupping and kneading her breasts, his mouth never leaving her skin. He explored every inch, every curve, making sure to give her the full attention she deserved.

The playful nibbles, the tender kisses. The slow, deliberate touches were all designed to drive her wild with pleasure. He continued his passionate kisses. Richa’s moans grew louder. Her body writhing with the overwhelming sensations he was creating.

Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to his desire and admiration for her. She was lost in the moment. Her world narrowed to the exquisite pleasure of his touch and the intense connection they shared. Richa’s moans filled the room, soft at first but growing louder as Arpit continued his assault on her breast.

He moved to the other one, giving it the same attention. His tongue swirled around her nipple before taking it into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her toes curl. The sensation was almost too much. Her body responded to every touch, every lick, every gentle bite.

She pushed his face harder against her boobs. Her need overwhelmed her as she whispered, “More, Arpit… don’t stop…” Her voice was breathless, filled with a desperate longing that made him growl softly in response. Arpit obliged, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of her breasts.

Savouring the feel of her soft skin beneath his mouth. He nibbled gently on her nipples, just enough to send sharp jolts of pleasure through her, before soothing them with soft kisses. Richa’s moans became more urgent. Her body trembling beneath him as he continued his ministrations.

His hands roamed over her sides, her hips pulling her closer still. Arpit took his time, making sure every inch of her breasts received the attention it deserved. He alternated between gentle, loving touches and more intense, teasing actions. His goal was to ensure that she felt cherished, desired, and thoroughly enjoyed.

The intimate nature of his touch was as much about her pleasure as it was about his own, creating a moment of deep, mutual satisfaction. But Arpit wasn’t done with her yet. He began kissing his way down her body. His lips brushed over her ribcage, her stomach.

His tongue dipped into her navel, making her squirm beneath him. Richa’s breath hitched as he lingered there. His tongue swirled inside her belly button, teasing her and making her writhe in anticipation. Feeling the heat building between her legs.

Richa’s desperate need for him to go lower became almost unbearable. With a determined movement, Arpit’s hands moved to her waistband. He slowly peeled off the waistband of her blue pyjama pants, drawing them down her legs. As he slipped them off, he tossed them aside, revealing her black panties.

He then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs with deliberate slowness. His eyes never left her. As her panties joined the pyjama pants on the floor, Richa’s hands moved to Arpit’s clothing. She undid the button of his shorts and pulled them down, revealing his underwear.

Her fingers fumbled slightly with the waistband of his underwear. But she managed to slide them off, tossing them aside. The sight of him, now fully exposed, only fueled her desire further. Richa then reached for his t-shirt, pulling it over his head with urgency.

His chest was now bare, and she ran her hands over the firm muscles, feeling the heat radiating from him. They were both now completely naked. Their bodies pressed together. Their breath mingled in the charged space between them. Arpit’s hands then continued their journey down Richa’s body.

He caressed her breasts, his fingers gently teasing her nipples as he positioned her on the bed. He took his time, revelling in the sensation of her soft skin under his touch, kissing her breasts deeply, savouring every moment. Their clothes were discarded, forgotten in their urgency.

The bed once shared with Harsh in routine and distant intimacy was now a stage for their intense, electrifying encounter. Arpit’s lips moved down her body. Kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and trailing his lips to her calves and feet.

Richa’s moans filled the room, her body arching with the pleasure of each touch. Arpit’s fingers found their way between Richa’s legs once more. He began to caress her with deliberate, teasing strokes. His touch sent shivers of anticipation through her.

He guided her legs apart slightly, positioning himself between them as he leaned in to taste her. Richa’s hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer as she felt his tongue exploring her with a slow, teasing rhythm. The sensation of his mouth on her most sensitive areas made her gasp and moan.

Her hips instinctively bucked towards him. She could feel the intense pleasure building within her, her body reacting passionately to his every touch. “Oh, Arpit, yes, right there!” Richa cried out, her voice thick with need. “Don’t stop. I want to feel you, all of you.”

Arpit continued his exploration, and his hands travelled up to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her nipples with a gentle yet insistent pressure. He licked and kissed her, savouring her taste as he continued to pleasure her with expert strokes of his tongue.

Richa’s breathing grew erratic, her moans becoming more urgent. “Arpit, please, make me cum. I need it so badly… your touch, your mouth.”

Her body arched towards him, her hands gripping his hair, guiding him as her pleasure reached new heights. “I’m so close… I can’t hold back anymore. … keep going, don’t stop.”

Arpit’s relentless touch pushed Richa over the edge. Her cries of pleasure filled the room as she experienced an overwhelming orgasm. Her body shook with the intensity of it. Her hands were still clutching him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Richa gasped, “Arpit, I need you inside me now.” Her voice was filled with urgent need, her body trembling with desire. Without hesitation, Arpit positioned himself between her legs. He guided himself to her entrance.

The heat and wetness of her arousal made the moment almost unbearable. He slowly pushed inside her. His movements were deliberate, allowing her to adjust to the fullness of his presence. Richa moaned loudly, her body enveloping him completely.

Their bodies moved together in a rhythm that was both urgent and intense. Arpit thrust into her with a steady, powerful rhythm. Each movement drew out gasps and cries of pleasure from Richa. Her nails dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist.

She pulled him closer, urging him to go deeper. As their rhythm quickened, their breaths became ragged, their movements synchronized in a dance of raw, unrestrained passion. The bed creaked beneath them. The room filled with the sounds of their combined ecstasy.

Richa’s moans grew louder. Her body arched and trembled with each thrust, the pleasure mounting with every second. Arpit’s thrusts became more intense, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he drove her closer to the edge. Richa’s cries of pleasure grew more frantic.

Her body was straining towards the peak of her desire. When the orgasm finally hit her, it was with an overwhelming force. Her body convulsed around him as she screamed his name. Arpit continued to thrust into her, prolonging her climax.

His pleasure was building as he felt her tighten around him. When he finally reached his climax, it was with a powerful release that left both of them gasping and trembling. They collapsed together on the bed. Their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the aftermath of their intense encounter.

As they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the bed that had once held memories of distant intimacy now felt like a sacred space of connection and fulfilment. Their passion had transformed the ordinary into something extraordinary, creating a moment they would never forget.

The End.

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