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MidReal Story
The Unknown Husband
Scenario:Malini with 55yrars age sit on bench she had fight with husband.Raja who was unknown understood her situation and place his hand on neck sit close to her touching her full body
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Malini
She is a middleaged woman with unresolved marital issues. She is emotional, conflicted, and yearning. Malini struggles with her unhappy marriage, feeling unloved and neglected by her husband. She longs for affection and intimacy, but fears rejection. Her day is filled with household chores and caring for her grandchild. When she encounters Raja, a mysterious and kindhearted man, she experiences a deep emotional connection. Despite her troubled marriage and life circumstances, Malini finds solace and hope in Raja's presence.
Raja
He is an enigmatic and compassionate stranger who approaches Malini with kindness and intent. He is mysterious, gentle, and understanding. Raja notices Malini's distress and offers her comfort through physical touch and gentle words. Despite his unknown background, he provides Malini with a sense of warmth and acceptance she craves deeply. His presence becomes a rare moment of relief and hope for Malini, who feels neglected in her marriage. Raja's actions suggest a deep empathy for her struggles.
I was sitting on the bench.
I was in fight with my husband.
I didn't know how he would react when he comes home.
I was lost in my thoughts when suddenly I felt someone's presence behind me.
Before I could turn, his hands fell on my shoulders and then his chest touched my back.
His touch sent a shiver down my spine.
I could feel his warm breath on my neck and his hands which were caressing my back gave me a goosebump.
I didn't know who he was but I could only feel his presence around me.
The smell of his perfume was intoxicating me.
The way he was touching me made me feel so wanted and desired.
It was a feeling that I had never experienced before.
It was a feeling that I always yearned for but never got from my husband.
I didn't want this moment to end but then suddenly his hands moved from my shoulder to my neck.
He touched my bare neck and suddenly I felt something that I had never felt before.
His touch was gentle yet firm.
My body trembled as his fingers traced patterns on my neck.
The evening breeze carried the scent of his cologne, making my head spin.
I knew I should move away, but his touch awakened something deep within me.
His chest rose and fell against my back, steady and warm.
The rough fabric of his shirt brushed my shoulders as he leaned closer.
My hands gripped the edge of the bench, knuckles white with tension.
The world shrunk to just this moment - his fingertips on my skin, his breath in my hair.
"Why are you here?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"I came to remind you of who you are," he replied softly, his words laced with an urgency that made my pulse quicken.
"But I don't even know who you are," I said, turning slightly to catch a glimpse of his face.
My heart skipped a beat as his body pressed closer against mine on the bench.
His hands slid from my neck to my shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there.
I knew I should leave, but his touch awakened something long dormant inside me.
The evening air grew thick with tension as his fingers traced patterns on my skin.
When I tried to turn my head to look at him, he gently held me in place.
His breath felt hot against my ear, and I shivered as he leaned in closer.
"You don't need to know," he whispered, his voice low and husky.
"Just let go."
My heart raced as his hands slid down my arms, his chest firm against my back.
The evening breeze carried the scent of his cologne, making my head spin.
His fingers continued to trace patterns on my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
Though my mind screamed at me to leave, my body betrayed me, leaning into his touch.
His breath tickled my ear as he pulled me closer, and I felt the solid bench beneath us fade away.
The world narrowed to just his caresses and my quickening pulse.
When his lips brushed against the nape of my neck, I gasped softly, my fingers gripping the edge of the bench even tighter.
In that moment, I realized I was teetering on the edge of a choice I couldn't take back.
My fingers dig into the wooden bench as his hands slide down to my waist, pulling me back against his chest.
The evening breeze carries the scent of his cologne, making my head swim.
His lips brush against the nape of my neck again, sending electricity through my body.
I try to form words of protest, but they die in my throat as his thumbs trace slow circles on my hips.
The weight of my wedding ring feels heavy on my finger as I lean back into him.
His steady breathing against my ear drowns out the voice in my head telling me to stop.
"Do you remember the last time we were here?" he murmured, his voice a mix of nostalgia and longing.
I hesitated, the memory flickering at the edge of my mind.
"It was the night before your wedding," he continued, his words slicing through the haze of my thoughts.
His hands tighten on my waist as I slowly twist around on the bench, my heart pounding against my ribs.
The movement is deliberate and controlled, as if I'm afraid to break the spell of the moment.
His firm grip guides me until I'm facing sideways, one leg tucked under me.
The evening shadows cast half his face in darkness, but his eyes gleam with an intensity that roots me in place.
My fingers grip the rough wood of the bench as memories flood back - his younger face, this same park, the night before I married another man.
His thumb traces my jawline while his other hand stays locked on my hip.
The familiar touch makes my breath catch in my throat.
I grip the bench tighter as his hand slides up my back, steadying me as I turn.
The evening shadows play across his features, accentuating the lines time has carved into his face.
My fingers tremble against the wooden slats as I struggle to form words, the weight of decades of silence pressing down on me.
His thumb continues to trace circles on my hip, each movement sparking memories of stolen moments in this same park.
When I finally find my voice, it comes out shaky and small.
"Why did you come back now?"
His eyes search mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them.
"I had to see if the years changed us or just deepened what we left behind," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And what did you find?" I ask, my heart caught between hope and fear.
He stares at my face, the fading light of day casting long shadows across his features.
His hand is still warm against my back, even as the world around us grows quieter with the approaching evening.
The park, once bustling with children's laughter and lovers' whispers, gradually empties until it's just the two of us, suspended in a bubble of time.
His thigh presses against mine as he shifts closer, and I feel the bench creak under our combined weight.
My fingers grip the edge tighter, as if it's my lifeline to reality.
His other hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lips in a gentle caress.
I try to form words, but they get lost in the depths of his eyes.
Slowly, he leans in, giving me time to pull away.
But I'm frozen in place, my breath caught in my throat.
His eyes lock with mine, searching for permission, for a sign that this moment is not a mistake.
The familiar scent of his cologne envelops me as the distance between us shrinks.
I sit paralyzed as his face hovers inches from mine, his warm breath mingling with my shallow gasps.
His thumb continues to trace my bottom lip while his other hand presses firmly against my lower back.
The scent of his cologne washes over me, carrying with it memories of stolen moments in this same park decades ago.
The weight of my wedding ring feels like a burning brand on my finger.
When his nose brushes mine, my hands release their death grip on the bench.
My body sways forward of its own accord, drawn by an invisible force.
I stare at his lips, mere inches from mine, as his thumb continues tracing my mouth.
His hand on my back pulls me closer until my chest rises and falls rapidly against his.
The world around us fades into the evening shadows, leaving only the two of us, cocooned in a bubble of memories and longing.
The distant chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl fill the air, creating a symphony of sounds that echo the turmoil within me.
The bench creaks beneath our weight as we lean into each other, the wooden slats pressing against my back.
His nose brushes mine again, patient yet insistent.
The touch sends shivers down my spine, awakening a part of me that has long been dormant.
My hands shake as they rise to rest on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt.