My name is Priya Sharma. I am 27 years old, married to Dr. Rajesh Sharma for the last five years. We have a sweet little five-year-old son, Aryan, whom we lovingly call “Chintu.” Rajesh is a successful doctor with his own clinic in the heart of the city. He has given me every comfort a woman could dream of — a beautiful home, love, respect, and a life full of happiness. I never thought a tiny mistake of mine would turn this perfect world upside down.

It was 20th April 2008. The afternoon sun was beating down mercilessly. I was in the kitchen, preparing lunch, wearing a simple cotton salwar-kameez that clung to my body because of the sweat. The heat was unbearable. I stepped towards the kitchen window to catch a breath of fresh air. The moment I opened it, a cool breeze kissed my face and I closed my eyes in relief.

That’s when I saw him.

Right across from our window, standing in the empty plot behind our house, was a young boy — not more than 19. Tall, slim, wheatish skin, sharp features. He was staring straight at me. Our eyes met for just a second. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly stepped back, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. What was I doing? I scolded myself. He’s just a boy… and I’m a married woman, mother of a child. I shook my head and went back to the stove, trying to forget that intense gaze.

But life has its own twisted games.

The doorbell rang. It was Rajesh, back from the clinic early. He pulled me into his arms the moment he stepped inside, kissing my forehead lovingly. “Today we’re going to a wedding in the evening,” he whispered happily. We had lunch together — me, Rajesh and little Chintu. I completely forgot about the boy at the window. The evening passed in laughter and dancing at the wedding. On the way back, Rajesh told me, “Priya, don’t make lunch for me tomorrow. I have a very important surgery.”

Next morning, around 2 o’clock, I was again in the kitchen. The heat was even worse. I walked to the window, wiping sweat from my neck. And there he was again — the same boy. This time he was casually urinating against the wall, his back towards me. I gasped and stepped away instantly. How dare he use this place as a toilet? But our house was at the edge of the colony; the back was completely deserted. Still, my heart was pounding. I decided I would avoid the window from now on.

But fate had other plans.

The following day, Rajesh was supposed to come home for lunch. I was working harder than usual in the kitchen. Once again, the heat forced me to the window. I stood there, eyes closed, letting the breeze cool my sweaty skin. Suddenly, I heard footsteps. I opened my eyes — and froze.

The boy was standing right there, facing me. Before I could react, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick, dark cock. It was already semi-hard. He held it in his hand and shook it shamelessly, looking straight into my eyes with a dirty smile.

I felt as if someone had poured boiling water over me. My cheeks burned with shame. I wanted to scream, to run, to shut the window… but my feet wouldn’t move. For a split second — just a split second — my eyes stayed glued to that long, veiny shaft. Then reality hit me like a thunderbolt.

What the hell am I doing?! I jerked back, heart hammering wildly, and ran straight to my bedroom. I locked the door and sat on the bed, breathing heavily. My hands were trembling. He did it on purpose… the bastard knows I’m alone. But even as I cursed him, that image kept flashing in my mind — his bold eyes, that shameless smile, and that thick, black cock swinging in the open air.

I hated myself for even thinking about it.

I splashed cold water on my face and forced myself back to the kitchen. Rajesh came home at 3. We ate quietly. I couldn’t meet his eyes properly. After he left, I lay down in the bedroom, but sleep refused to come. My mind kept replaying everything. Who is this boy? Why is he doing this? Is it just coincidence… or is he targeting me deliberately?

That night, when Rajesh came to bed, he was in the mood. I let him make love to me, but even while he was inside me, my mind kept drifting to the window… to that boy… to that dirty, throbbing thing he had shown me so openly. I felt disgusted with myself. Tears filled my eyes, but Rajesh thought they were tears of pleasure.

The next few days I strictly avoided the window. But every afternoon at 2 o’clock, something inside me would pull me towards it. I fought hard. I told myself I was a respectable married woman. I had a loving husband and a beautiful son. This was wrong. Completely wrong.

Yet the pull was getting stronger.

On the fourth day, I finally gave in — just for a second, I told myself. I walked to the window and peeked out.

He was there.

Standing quietly, staring at the window like he knew I would come. Our eyes locked again. This time he didn’t unzip. He just stood there, watching me with that same hungry look. My heart started racing. I wanted to close the window, to run away… but I didn’t. We stared at each other for almost two full minutes. Neither of us moved.

Then he slowly stepped closer to the window and whispered in a low, husky voice, “Won’t you call the police this time?”

My throat went dry. I shook my head slightly — I don’t even know why.

He smirked. “Want to see my lund again? Say yes… and I’ll take it out right now.”

My face turned crimson. My knees felt weak. I wanted to slap him, to scream at him, to shut the window forever… but my body betrayed me. A strange heat was spreading between my legs. I hated it. I hated myself.

“Rajesh… my husband… will be home any minute,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled softly. “I know his schedule, Priya ji. He doesn’t come before 3. Now tell me… should I take it out or not?”

My mind was screaming NO! but my lips wouldn’t move. My eyes stayed fixed on his crotch. I could feel my nipples hardening against my bra. My pussy was getting wet — I could feel the shameful dampness in my panties.

This is wrong… this is so wrong… I’m a mother… I’m married…

But I still didn’t move away from the window.

And that, my dear readers, was my first real mistake.

The tiny mistake that would soon turn into a storm… and sweep away every bit of my dignity, my loyalty, and my self-respect.

To be continued in Chapter 2…