Thanks to everyone from Ishika & Karan for giving so much love and support to our story. If you haven’t read about us yet, please read ‘Finding Light in the Dark – Part 1.’
I woke up in the morning lying naked beside Karan. For a brief moment, disbelief washed over me. I recalled the events of the previous night. I had slept with a man who wasn’t my husband. Guilt and shame crept in, but as I turned to glance at Karan, a smile spread across my face.
In the last three years, I have felt something I had longed for but thought lost forever. I felt desired, loved, and pampered. Karan had reignited a spark within me, one that had dimmed after my husband’s passing. I lay there, wrapped in the warmth of our shared intimacy.
I reflected on how I had spent years living in the shadow of grief. The weight of loss had kept me captive, drowning in sorrow. But now, here with Karan, I felt free. The memories of laughter, joy, and passion, long buried, were beginning to resurface.
As I stirred, I became acutely aware of the sensations coursing through me. I felt the warmth pooling between my thighs. I realized I was wet—something I hadn’t experienced in three long years. My gaze drifted down, and I spotted the telltale cum stains on the bedsheet, evidence of our passionate night.
A blush crept over my cheeks as I remembered the intimacy we had shared. My breasts were slightly red, the aftermath of Karan’s love. I noticed the hickeys adorning my skin like badges of honour. A playful smile tugged at my lips as my eyes fell on Karan.
I caught sight of his flaccid dick, and a rush of excitement coursed through me. I couldn’t help but think about how naughty I had been, embracing my desires in a way I hadn’t thought possible. Just then, Karan stirred beside me. His eyes fluttered open.
When he saw me, a smile broke across his face, instantly lighting up the room. He pulled me into a warm embrace, and I melted into him, feeling safe and cherished.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. “How are you feeling?”
“I… I don’t know,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “Last night was amazing, but I never thought I’d do something like this.”
He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes, searching for understanding. “Ishika, it’s okay. It was a beautiful moment between us. You deserve to feel this way.”
I took a deep breath, allowing his words to sink in. “I guess I’m just scared. Scared of what this means, of what people will think. I spent so long grieving, and now…” My voice trailed off as I grappled with the emotions swirling inside me.
Karan brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. “You spent three years carrying the weight of loss. It’s okay to let it go. When we can’t laugh at the same joke, why should we keep crying over the same problem? What happened has happened, and you need to learn to smile and be happy again.”
His words resonated with me, stirring something deep within. I had allowed myself to be defined by my past for far too long. Maybe it was time to reclaim my life, to find joy in unexpected places. But as the thrill of last night’s intimacy began to settle, the reality of my situation loomed larger than ever.
How could I move forward without feeling guilty? Karan seemed to sense my turmoil. He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against mine. “Ishika, life is too short to be trapped in sorrow. It’s okay to honour the past while also embracing the present. You are not betraying anyone by living your life fully.”
I closed my eyes, envisioning my husband’s smile, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter we once shared. It was painful, but there was a flicker of hope igniting within me. Karan was right—my husband wouldn’t want me to languish in grief. He would want me to find joy again.
As I opened my eyes, I met Karan’s gaze once more. “You really believe that?”
“Absolutely,” he said with conviction. “You have so much to offer this world, Ishika. It’s time you see that for yourself. Let’s explore this connection we have. Take it one day at a time.”
Karan smiled, a warmth spreading across his face that made my heart flutter. “Good. Just remember, it’s okay to feel scared. I’m here with you every step of the way.”
After hearing his words, something inside me shifted. The weight I had been carrying felt lighter, and the guilt started to ebb away. I hugged him tightly, needing the comfort of his touch. He responded by kissing me on the lips, a soft and gentle kiss that quickly turned passionate.
I reciprocated, kissing him back with a wild intensity, losing myself in the moment. Pulling back slightly, Karan looked into my eyes, a playful glint sparkling in his gaze. “Your birthday is still incomplete, Ishika. Allow me to make it more special.”
A shy smile spread across my lips as I replied, “Let’s see how special you can make it.” After that, Karan told me with a mischievous grin, “I’ll prepare breakfast for you while you freshen up.” I smiled, feeling a warmth inside me that I hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever.
The care and pampering I was receiving from Karan had me feeling light. I was rediscovering something I’d lost along the way. I made my way to the bathroom for a quick shower. The water running over me felt different today—like I was washing away more than just the night’s sweat.
It was as though a layer of the sadness, grief, and heaviness I’d been carrying for the past three years was melting away. I felt a strange but liberating sense of renewal. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was met with the sound of light sizzling.
The aroma of something delicious comes from the kitchen. Karan, now only in his underwear, was moving around the stove, flipping something in the pan. My gaze lingered for a moment longer than I intended. His body, still slightly damp from his shower, moved with ease.
It was clear he was comfortable in this intimate space we’d created. He must have heard the bathroom door open because he turned around with a wide smile, holding his shirt from last night. Walking over to me, he handed it to me casually and said, “Here, wear this. Just this. And your panties.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned by the playful suggestion. “Just this?” I asked, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “I’ve never worn anything like that around the house before.”
Karan’s eyes softened as he ran a hand down my arm. “Ishika, this is your home, your space. You’re the queen here. You can wear anything you want or nothing at all if that makes you feel free. But right now, I want you to feel sexy, powerful, and confident in your skin.”
There was a sincerity in his tone that caught me off guard, but it made me smile. I gently patted his chest, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with a strange sense of comfort. Slowly, I slipped into the shirt, buttoning it just enough to leave a playful hint of skin.
The fabric felt soft against my bare skin, and something was thrilling about it. Karan’s eyes travelled over me with quiet admiration. I could tell he liked what he saw. That only made me feel more connected to my body than I had in years. I followed him to the kitchen.
He was preparing breakfast with an ease that made me feel more relaxed than I expected. As I entered the kitchen, the smell hit me first—chilly cheese sandwiches, poha, and cold coffee. I stopped in my tracks.
My eyes widened in shock. “What the… how do you know all of my favourite things?” I asked, genuinely surprised. Karan looked up from the pan, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He walked over to me and planted a soft kiss on my forehead.
“It’s your birthday, Ishika. I had to know everything you love. How I figured it out can be discussed later,” he teased, his tone playful and lighthearted. We both laughed, a kind of easy laughter that had been missing from my life for too long. I could still feel a slight tinge of shyness lingering inside me.
It was all so new—this freedom, this comfort in intimacy. But it felt good, like a part of me was waking up from a long, numbing sleep. Soon enough, breakfast was ready, and we sat at the dining table. I took my first bite of the sandwich, and before I could stop it, a tear rolled down my cheek.
Karan noticed immediately, his expression shifting to concern. He got up without a word, gently wiping the tear from my face before wrapping his arms around me. “No, Ishika,” he whispered, holding me close. “Queens don’t cry on their birthdays.”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly at his words. “It’s happy tears, baby,” I said, the term of endearment slipping out before I realized. For a second, I was surprised at myself for calling him that, but Karan didn’t say anything. He smiled, understanding my fragile emotional state without needing to ask.
We held each other for a moment longer, just letting the quiet settle around us. After breakfast, Karan gathered all the plates from the dining table and carried them to the sink. I offered to help. But he quickly brushed me off, reminding me that it was my birthday and there was no way I would lift a finger.
With a playful grin, he added, “Queens don’t do any work on their birthday.” His words made me smile, but what really touched me was the care and attention he was showing. Each little gesture made me fall deeper for him. He cleaned up the table.
Then, before I could protest, he gently picked me up in his arms and placed me on the edge of the dining table, my legs hanging down. Our faces were now at the same level, his eyes locking onto mine. Without saying a word, he leaned in and kissed my cheek.
I blushed instantly, feeling a mix of shyness and excitement. “What was that for?” I asked, trying to play it cool but failing as my heart raced. He smiled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I wanted to taste a dessert after such a good meal,” he said softly, his voice dripping with warmth.
I blushed, but the confidence that had bloomed within me since last night took over. “I want to taste some dessert, too,” I replied with a teasing smile. Karan’s eyes darkened with desire as he brought his lips closer to mine. I closed the gap, kissing him wildly as if it was the only thing I craved at that moment.
The kiss was full of passion, a reflection of everything I’d been feeling—gratitude, longing, excitement. My hands roamed across his bare back, feeling the warmth and tenderness he had showered on me. I could feel the strength in him, but more than that, I felt safe and cared for.
His lips moved against mine with a soft urgency. One of his hands rested on my back, pulling me closer, and the other gently explored my bare thighs, sending sparks of sensation through me. I felt his lips trail across my face—kisses on my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead—and then lower until they reached my neck.
“Fuck, Karan,” I moaned, unable to contain the surge of pleasure as his lips found my most sensitive spot. My neck had always been my weakness, and he knew exactly how to exploit it. My eyes fluttered shut as I gave in to the sensations coursing through me.
His kisses sent waves of heat all over my body. My hands roamed his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. My fingertips grazed his nipples. His breath quickened as I touched him. He moved again, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the shirt I was wearing. The same one he had asked me to put on earlier.
He pushed it off my shoulders, leaving them bare. His lips followed, planting soft, lingering kisses on my shoulder and neck. Shivers raced down my spine, and I could barely catch my breath as his touch ignited every nerve in my body. My hands rested on the table now.
My neck arched back as Karan kissed me so passionately. He explored my neck, shoulders, and cleavage with fervent kisses, each touch sending shivers down my spine. “Fuck, Karan,” I moaned, my voice barely a whisper. His kisses were intoxicating.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling every kiss igniting a fire deep inside me. Karan pushed me onto the dining table, leaving me lying back with my legs hanging down, wearing nothing but his shirt and my panties. The thrill of the moment sent shivers through me.
He sat in the chair right next to my legs, a playful glint in his eyes. As he came between my legs, he began to gently kiss my thighs, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. Karan showered my legs with soft, tender kisses. I could feel my heart racing with each touch.
He moved higher, exploring my inner thighs. His lips grazed my skin with tenderness and desire. I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling amazing and slightly surprised at the unexpected intimacy we were sharing. Here I was, being adored on the dining table, a place I had never associated with such passion.
In my life, I had only known love in the confines of my bed. But this felt different—freeing and exhilarating. Karan was making me feel alive in a way I never thought possible, and I couldn’t get enough of it. Karan’s lips pressed against my pussy through the soft, damp fabric of my panty.
My breath hitched in my throat. I had been waiting for this moment, longing for it. As soon as his mouth made contact, a deep, throaty moan escaped me. “Karan,” I whispered, but the intensity in my voice surprised even me. It was as if I was surrendering to a desire I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in years.
I instinctively closed my thighs around his head. Not wanting to break the connection between us, holding him there as if to say, “Don’t stop.” His breath was hot against the soaked fabric. Every kiss sent ripples of pleasure coursing through my body.
My hips moved of their own accord, grinding gently against his mouth, seeking more of that delicious pressure. I felt alive, electrified in a way I had almost forgotten was possible. The way he was worshipping me with his mouth, his lips pressing into my most intimate place, made me feel desired—truly desired.
As he kissed my pussy over my panty, the wetness grew. A mixture of my arousal and the teasing touch of his tongue seeping through the fabric. I couldn’t stop the moans that spilt from my lips, each one louder than the last. The sensation was overwhelming but in the most intoxicating way.
It was like waves crashing over me, relentless, pulling me under with every kiss and every stroke of his tongue. Karan’s hands found the buttons on my shirt. His fingers deftly worked to open the remaining ones. All the while, he never stopped kissing me, his mouth never leaving my soaked panty.
My body quivered as the cool air touched my exposed skin. The shirt is falling open completely now, leaving me vulnerable and bare. I was lying there like a dish served just for him, my body on display. For the first time in so long, I didn’t feel shy or ashamed. I felt powerful. Beautiful. Wanted.
The thought crossed my mind that I had never been this free, not even with my late husband. With Karan, there was no hesitation, no holding back. He had stripped me of my fears, of my guilt. In this moment, all that existed was him and me—our bodies, our desires, our need for each other.
His tongue pressed harder against my now-soaked panties. I arched my back, my hips rising off the table, silently begging for more. I wanted him to remove the last barrier between us, to take me completely. But at the same time, the teasing, the anticipation, was driving me wild in the best way possible.
“Karan,” I moaned again, my voice breathless and pleading, “I need you…” He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire. I could see the love and longing in his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.
It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made my heart ache most beautifully. He had brought me back to life. I could feel that now, more than ever. Karan’s playful yet daring move took me completely by surprise.
As he stripped off the shirt I was wearing, he grabbed the chocolate syrup bottle from the table. My heart raced with anticipation. “What are you doing?” I gasped, a mix of excitement and bewilderment washing over me. But there was something mischievous in his eyes that told me to trust him.
With a swift motion, he squeezed the bottle, and thick, rich chocolate syrup drizzled over my breasts, cascading down in an indulgent swirl. The contrast of the dark syrup against my skin made me feel decadent. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“What did you just do?” I asked, my cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and thrill.
“I want to eat and enjoy your chocoboobs,” he replied with a naughty grin, his voice low and teasing.
I could hardly wait to explore this new dimension of pleasure he was offering. I reached out, grasping his face with urgency, pulling him closer to me as if to say, “Yes, please!”
His mouth enveloped my breasts. The warmth of his tongue met the sweetness of the chocolate, creating an explosion of sensations. It made my entire body ignite with pleasure. I moaned softly, feeling the heat rise within me. Each lick, each sucks, was like a wave crashing over me, pulling me deeper into ecstasy.
Karan’s lips moved expertly over my chocoboobs, his eyes sparkling with delight and mischief. The mixture of chocolate and his warm mouth created a heady blend of sweetness and desire. I was lost in the moment, feeling completely and utterly cherished.
“More,” I breathed, arching my back as I offered myself to him. My hands tangled in his hair as he continued to worship me with his mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, taking me to a place I never thought possible. Each sensation was heightened.
Every kiss felt like it was igniting every nerve ending in my body, making me cry out in a mix of joy and desire. In this playful yet intimate exchange, I felt liberated. The guilt and shame that had once clouded my heart faded away, replaced by an exhilarating freedom.
Karan was not just making love to me. He was celebrating me—every part of me. In his eyes, I saw adoration and lust but also a profound appreciation for who I was. It made me feel like I was floating. After Karan finished indulging in my chocoboobs, I felt a mixture of sweetness and warmth on my skin.
His saliva glistened on my breasts, the coolness contrasting beautifully with the heat radiating from my body. The gentle breeze from the fan only heightened the sensations, sending delightful chills through me. I couldn’t help but revel in how tantalizingly sensitive I felt.
Karan’s gaze was filled with mischief and desire as he began to kiss his way down from my breasts. Each kiss was soft yet purposeful, igniting sparks of pleasure that coursed through me. I watched him, captivated, as he descended, his lips trailing over my skin, igniting a fire within me.
When he reached my navel, he paused for a moment, looking up at me with an expression that was both playful and hungry. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His breath was warm against my skin, sending another thrill through me.
Then, he continued his exploration. His lips brushed against my waist before he latched onto my belly button, teasingly licking it. A moan escaped my lips, louder than before, as waves of pleasure washed over me. The sensation was electrifying.
His tongue, warm and playful, sent shivers down my spine, making me crave more of his touch. “Oh, Karan,” I breathed, lost in the moment, feeling a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration. My body was responding to him with an urgency that surprised me.
Every flick of his tongue against my belly button seemed to awaken desires deep within me, igniting a hunger that I never knew existed. With every kiss and lick, he took me deeper into a world of sensation. It was both intoxicating and liberating.
I felt utterly exposed yet entirely safe in his embrace. That paradox fueled my craving for him even more. His attention to my body felt like an act of devotion, a promise that he wanted to savour every part of me. “Karan, please…” I murmured my voice a breathy plea filled with longing.
I was ready for him to take me further, to explore every inch of me. The way he worshipped my body, treating it like a sacred treasure. It made me feel desired in a way I had never experienced before. It was as if he could see me—not just my body, but my soul.
In those moments, I felt a sense of freedom that was intoxicating. I knew I was ready to give myself completely to him.
To be continued.
PS: This story has been written by Karan on my behalf. Please share your thoughts and comments by mail/DM at [email protected].