Have you heard of Palampur? It's awesome little village nestled between the hills and valleys.
The atmosphere there is so tranquil that it really makes you contemplate life. In this village, there's this fiery short- tempered Jiya, who lives with h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It had been over four weeks since I got married, and today was the day I'd been waiting for; the day of the big race. Racing had always been a part of my life, a thrill I couldn't shake, even after marriage. But this time was different. Today, for the first time, my wife would be sitting behind me on the bike, and I had to admit, it felt like a game-changer. I just hoped she wouldn't get too scared. The thought of her clinging to me, her small hands gripping me tightly, sent a strange mix of excitement and concern through my veins.
As usual, Maa came over with the thali to perform her little ritual, rotating it around my face while mumbling a prayer under her breath.
"Maa, seriously? I'm not going to war," I muttered, rolling my eyes, but there was a fondness in my voice. The truth was, without her doing this, I'd feel uneasy. It had become a ritual, something that rooted me before every race. So, I let her do it, secretly grateful for her blessings.
I was already geared up in my black leather racing suit, the one that fit like a second skin, hugging every muscle just right. The suit was customized, of course branded with my name, top-quality, and built for speed. I was busy polishing my bike, the sleek machine gleaming under the lights. My brothers, Adhiraj and Yuvan, were going to be there too, along with their wives, cheering me on. There wasn't a single race they'd missed. They'd bet on me every time, confident in my victory, and they'd never regretted it. It was all in the family; same business mind, same thrill for winning.
But I wasn't cocky enough to believe I was unbeatable. Sure, I won a lot, but I'd fallen plenty of times too; crashes, skids, and burns. My body bore the scars of those defeats, but the junoon, the passion, never left me. I could still remember the feel of the pavement under my skin, the taste of dust in my mouth, and the way my heart would pound with the sheer excitement of getting back on that bike. It was an obsession, a high I couldn't give up.
But today... today was different. I wasn't just thinking about the race. My thoughts kept drifting back to Jiya, who was upstairs getting ready in her new racing suit. The image of her in that tight, form-fitting jumpsuit had my mind wandering to places it shouldn't, especially not before a race. A part of me was very curious, eager to see how she looked. Hell, who was I kidding? I was more than curious. I was already getting turned on just imagining her curves hugged by that suit, the way it would cling to her hips, accentuate her waist, and make her look like a total badass.
I leaned against my bike, my hand gripping the handlebars as I let my mind wander. What would it be like to have her pressed up against this machine, the two of us lost in the heat of the moment? The thought of fucking her right here, her body bending over the bike, her suit unzipped just enough to give me access. It made my blood run hot. My mind was spinning with lustful thoughts, imagining the way her breath would hitch, the way she'd moan my name, her body responding to every touch. I could practically feel her heat, the way she'd shiver as I traced the zipper down, exposing her inch by inch.
