The ceiling fan whirred lazily above Pasindu, sprawled across the bed in a haze of half-sleep, half-regret. He’d called in sick to work, but the truth was he just couldn’t muster the energy to face the day. The house was oppressively quiet, the absence of Vishmi’s soft hums and gentle laughter making the walls feel heavier, almost suffocating. Six months into their marriage, and already their life had settled into a predi...

Nayana lay sprawled on the bed, her body still trembling from the intensity of the group’s shared passion. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, and the scent of sex filled the air around her. She felt utterly spent, her limbs heavy and her mind blissfully blank. The boys had retreated to the bathroom to clean themselves up, their laughter and muffled voices echoing softly through the suite. She closed her eyes, savor...

Nayana’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions in the days following her encounter with Kusal. The memory of his cock buried deep inside her, the way he’d obeyed her every command, and the way she’d felt like a true, unbridled slut—it was all she could think about. But there was also the gnawing guilt, the fear of what she’d unleashed, and the knowledge that she’d crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. She tried to dist...

The next morning, Nayana’s body felt like it was on fire. She had barely slept, her mind racing with thoughts of Kusal, his scent, his taste, and the promise of what was to come. The moment her husband and kids left the house, she practically sprinted to her bedroom. Her heart pounded as she fumbled with the drawer, her fingers trembling with anticipation. She pulled out the panties Kusal had left behind, the ones he had...

Nayana’s morning routine was as predictable as the sunrise. She woke up early, brewed a pot of strong Ceylon tea, and prepared breakfast for her husband and two children before they left for their respective obligations. The house would then fall into a quiet rhythm, punctuated only by the soft hum of the television and the occasional chatter with her neighbors over the garden fence. Life was simple, uneventful, and predi...

The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncertain. Manel’s eyes were distant, clouded with something Chamal couldn’t quite place. He could feel the weight of whatever she was holding back pressing against the air between them, suffocating the room. She’s hesitating, he thought, his chest tightening. He couldn’t bear the tension any longer. “What is it, Mom?” he finally asked, his voice breaking through the stillness...

Manel stood in front of the mirror, her breath shallow, her heart racing. The bathrobe clung loosely to her body, the knot at her waist barely holding it together. She reached up, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the silky fabric. With a slow, deliberate motion, she undid the knot, and the robe slid to the floor, pooling around her feet. The air felt cool against her bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat bu...

Although I had a car I have always preferred to take the bus to work. Mostly because I’m a very bad driver. There is also one other reason why I have always preferred the bus over my car. That reason is that there is no other place than the bus to meet strangers. The bus I took was always packed. It’s so packed that we could literally feel each other’s breath on our skin. Most people found that annoying. But I loved that....