Now THIS is my kinda post. āŗļø
Because it's TwiNj, I want their consummation to be hatke and unique and something that hasn't been done on television before. But considering the hut/jungle type scenes always increase the TRPs, we might go along this route.
IF we do go the jungle/hut type scene, I want there to be minimal noise. No extra music running in the background to let the audience know what the tone is. Nok jhok, serious whatever. No. I don't want any of that.
It's just them, in the hut. Silence surrounding them and beginning to suffocate them. Outside the rain is hitting hard against the wooden hut. Twinkle is rubbing her bare, soaked arms, and looking up at the ceiling, wondering if it will support itself against the downpour. Her sari is becoming too heavy to carry because of all the water that has accumulated inside it. The sound of the flapping of the thick material as she waves it in the hopes of drying it out but whenever it hits her flesh, it makes her shiver instead because of the coolness of the material.
A crackling of the wood fills up the room as Kunj starts a running fire. The room instantly becomes illuminated by the burning smoke. Twinkle's footsteps make the floorboards creak and groan underneath her weight as she approaches her husband and the warmth he has provided for her. The tinkling of her bangles as they clash against each other when she puts her palms forward to warm them up.
Kunj blowing into his clenched fists to warm up his hands. A shiver running down his spine making him hiss. Twinkle's earrings jingle when she looks over to Kunj and sees his thick biceps bulging out of the white material of his shirt. The shirt was clinging so strongly onto him that it seemed as if it had somehow melted and infused with his skin. Her eyes grazing over him and seeing the tight and clenched muscles in his arms. Kunj is tall and lean but he is undoubtedly strong. Twinkle can see it all the more whenever he moves his arms around. The way they would clench and unclench hidden muscles. Working to provide upper strength, the mobility to move around and do as he pleases.
Her quick breaths filling up the room as she averts her eyes. A deep red creeps up onto her face and neck. Her body was aching to see him again. To devour more of his details and just learn how he works. How he operates in mundane tasks. To explore and discover the hidden and inner workings that make his whole.
His eyes are now on her. His breaths are coming out deep and slow. As if he were trying to control himself. To stop his eyes from staring at her. To stop noticing how her sari was clinging onto her stomach. Becoming plastered onto it and refusing to let the flesh of her stomach breathe. How the water droplets were gently gliding down and making him jealous. How they relished in sliding down from her hairline, to the sides of her cheeks, down the length of her jaw then neck, and then finally taking the tunnel down into her cleavage. A crevice that has been hidden from him thus far. A forbidden place. A place that his body was beginning to yearn for. The tips of his fingers were tingling. They wanted to move, to act, to react. To touch, to caress, to rip, to be wet. They wanted.
Her heart beats were pounding in her ears. The gulps she would take, each swallow made her wish she was actually downing something other than nervous anticipation. Her fingers were wrapped in the ends of her sari as she twirled it around nervously. She doesn't know what to do. How to react, how to talk, how to be. They had never been alone before. Never stayed in solely each other's company with no one to disturb them. Their room didn't count because there were other people located in the house. Other living beings who could knock at their door. Beings who were breathing and taking up space. But here, in this questionable wooden hut which was sheltering them from the wild storm outside, they were completely alone. They were breathing each other. The air, the nervousness, the awkwardness, the deep, burning desire, the yearning - everything was being shared equally. There was no third person to disturb them or to think about. They could focus solely on each other and give each other everything and anything the other person would need.
Warmth, companionship, friendship, silence.
Touch, burning, pleasure, comfort, satiation.
They can be each other's, wholly, soulfully. Take the next step in their relationship and explore that dynamic. To fulfill each other's long desire and fill a void, physically, emotionally. To be there for each other in every step of the way. Giving the other what they need and what they want. To shed all inhibitions and bare each other whole for the other. To explore, to learn and to know the other intimately. To be the owner of each other's flesh and bones for a brief moments. To learn all the right spots, all the right ways that bring immense pleasure. That invokes a burning sensation near the navel. The spot that makes one go weak in the knees. The touches that make one groan for the sensitivity, moan for the desire to have more of what was just given.
The deep indents left in the flesh from the pads of finger tips. The blood spilling out from the cracks of scratched skin. The bites left from teeth piercing against tight flesh. The bruises forming against swollen, red, wet lips, in the hollows of the neck. The strong collar bones feeling mush underneath licks and swipes of the tongue. Muscles feeling both strong and tight but yet weak and limp for the pleasure that is being given and being received.
The sighs and purrs, moans and groans, growls and mewls invading and inhabiting every nook and cranny of the wooden house. The screams of bodies overpowering the screams of nature. The inner heat blocking out the cold chill. Fluids of a different kind being exchanged. The kind that makes one feel euphoric rather than lost and alone.
There is no other sound.
Just the two.
Debate Mansion
