Shruti didn't know why she left the balcony door slightly ajar. Maybe it was the early July humidity. Maybe it was her own defiance. Or maybe… she wanted Aman to hear.
Inside the bedroom, Rhea had already kicked off her heels, her feet sinking into the plush rug as she turned to face Shruti with a crooked, sultry smile."Aaj... tum kuch alag lag rahi ho," she whispered, her voice rough with desire. "Kya baat hai... kuch khaas socha hai mere liye?"
Shruti closed the door behind her, locking it, though she knew it wouldn't matter.
"Khaas... nahi," she breathed, walking closer, "lekin... jaise tum mujhe dekh rahi ho... wohi kaafi hai."
Their mouths collided before another word passed. Shruti tasted cherry lip balm and something darker — the tension of stolen time, the weight of a secret affair deepening into something frighteningly permanent.
Rhea's fingers slipped under Shruti's blouse."Iss baar... mujhe rukna mat," she murmured.Shruti grinned into her neck. "Main to rukna kab ka bhool chuki hoon..."
Outside the half-open balcony curtain, Aman stood silently, shirt unbuttoned, drink untouched. He hadn't meant to stay. But then he'd heard the breathless moan.
That first moan.
It hadn't been loud — just a soft, "Ahhh..." that curled out of Shruti's throat like a spell, floating into the night.
His hand gripped the railing, hard.
Inside, Rhea now had Shruti pinned against the wall. Her kisses had turned primal — lips grazing collarbones, teeth brushing the thin strap of her bra.
"God... tumhari khushboo... kutti si pagal kar deti hai mujhe," Rhea muttered, licking a slow trail from her shoulder to her ear. Shruti shivered, her legs going weak.
"Rhea..." she gasped, "zara dheere..."
"Nahi," Rhea growled, yanking her blouse down. "Aaj main tujhe poora sunna chahti hoon."
Shruti moaned again — longer, throatier."Aaaahhh... Rhea... chhod mujhe... nahi... mat chhod..."
Each moan seemed to carve itself into Aman's ears. He stood still, eyes glued to the sheer curtain — shadows flickering, shapes merging.His breath slowed. His guilt didn't come.
Rhea had Shruti on the bed now. Her lips trailed over Shruti's ribs, down her stomach. She peeled the saree layers like a sculptor unveiling art."Tera jism... teri saans... sab kuch mujhe chahiye aaj."
Shruti's hips arched."Haaan... Rhea... aur... please... aaahhh..."She was gasping now — openly, hungrily.
Aman's hand was trembling.He closed his eyes.He didn't imagine Shruti with him.He imagined her only with Rhea.
Inside, the bed creaked gently. The rhythm quickened.
Rhea was whispering, "Yeh awaaz de mujhe... aur zor se... let me hear how filthy you can get for me..."
Shruti's reply was a moan so broken, so helpless, it vibrated through Aman's bones:"Meri chut... sirf teri hai... sirf teri..."
Rhea's fingers plunged deeper.Shruti arched."Rheaaa... aaahhhh... meri maa chd gayi... ruk mat... kutti... ruk matttt..."*
And that's when Aman came undone.
His knees buckled slightly. He bit down on his knuckle, letting the pain replace the ache in his groin.
But he didn't leave.
He stayed. Quiet. Hard. Addicted.
Inside, Rhea had Shruti on her knees now, fingers gripping her hair.
Shruti's voice cracked — "Chaat mujhe... nicha... haan... wahan... aur neeche... Rhea..."
And then came the moan that would haunt the night:
"AAAAHHHHHH... FUCKKKK... RHEAAA... CHODDDD MUJHE... ABHI...!"
The sound burst through the curtains like fire, like freedom.
Aman stepped back — his heart pounding, guilt still absent.Just envy.
Inside the room, their bodies tangled, soaked, trembling.
And somewhere... between the echoes of pleasure and the hush of a voyeur's breath... something shifted in Shruti's soul.
She didn't just feel claimed.
She felt seen.