In the sweltering heat of a Mumbai summer night, the air was thick and heavy with the scent of jasmine blossoms. In a dimly lit, opulent penthouse, a brunette vision named Nalini prepared herself for an exquisite rendezvous. With her lustrous, waist-length hair cascading down her back, she stood before a mirror, her caramel skin glowing in the soft light. Her full, perfect breasts beckoned, tipped with dark, eager nipples.
Nalini’s quarry for the evening was a successful businessman named Ravi, whom she had met at a charity event a fortnight prior. She had been captivated by his chiseled features, the sharp cut of his jaw, and the intensity of his dark eyes. They had exchanged numbers, and she had enticed him with sultry text messages that stoked the embers of his desire.
Tonight, she would ensure his hunger would be satiated. She slipped into a scarlet saree that hugged her curves and accentuated her décolletage. Her long, black hair was styled in loose waves that tumbled over her shoulders, shimmering like a raven’s wing.
