Leesha’s heart pounded as her fingers hovered over the worn leather cover of Dileep’s diary. It’s wrong, she thought, guilt gnawing at her. But the temptation was too strong. She’d been alone in the house for hours. Her husband was out on some errand.
The diary had been taunting her ever since Dileep left for the U.S. She couldn’t resist. She flipped it open. The first page was filled with his bold, masculine handwriting. The ink smudged in places as if he’d been in a hurry.
‘June 1st,’ it began, ‘I’m in New York, but my mind is back in India, back with her.’ Leesha’s breath hitched. Her? Who was he talking about? She turned the page, her eyes devouring every word.
“I can’t stop thinking about Leesha. The way she looked at me the last time we were together. The way her lips parted when I brushed against her accidentally. She’s my son’s wife, but I can’t help it. I want her. I need her.”
Leesha’s cheeks burned as she read on. Her body betrayed her with a rush of heat. Dileep’s words were raw, unfiltered, and so fucking explicit. He described fantasies of her on her knees, begging for him, of her moaning his name as he took her from behind.
She felt a wetness between her legs, her panties clinging to her skin. She shouldn’t be reading this. She shouldn’t be getting turned on by it. But she couldn’t stop. She heard the front door open. She slammed the diary shut, shoving it back into its hiding place.
Her husband called out, “Leesha? I’m home!” Her heart raced, guilt and arousal warring within her. She took a deep breath, smoothing her hair and dress, before walking out to greet him. But the images in Dileep’s diary haunted her.
That night, she lay in bed beside her sleeping husband. She couldn’t stop thinking about Dileep’s words. “I want to dominate you, Leesha. I want to make you mine.” She slipped her hand between her legs, her fingertips tracing circles over her clit.
She bit her lip to stifle a moan as she imagined Dileep’s hands on her. His deep voice whispered filth in her ear. She cum quickly, her body trembling with the force of it.
The days dragged on, each one longer than the last. August couldn’t come soon enough. Dileep was supposed to return to India then. Leesha was already planning how she’d surprise him.
‘I’ll go to his house,’ she thought. ‘I’ll wear something sexy, something that will make him lose control. I’ll let him do whatever he wants. I’ll be his.’
But then, on June 5th, everything changed.
Her husband woke her with a gentle shake. “Leesha,” he said softly, his voice trembling. She blinked up at him, still half-asleep. “What is it?”
“It’s… it’s Dileep. He…he’s gone.”
Leesha’s heart stopped. “What do you mean, gone?”
“He passed away. Covid.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. No. No, no, no. She sat up, tears already streaming down her face. “That’s not possible. He was supposed to come back in August. He was supposed to…” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.
She couldn’t tell her husband what Dileep was supposed to do to her, what she’d been dreaming about.
India was under strict travel restrictions. So, there was no way for them to attend the funeral or even visit Dileep’s family. Leesha felt like she was drowning in guilt and regret.
Why didn’t I call him? Why didn’t I tell him how I felt? She cried herself to sleep every night, her body aching for the man she could never have.
A week later, there was a knock at the door. Leesha’s husband answered it, and she heard a woman’s voice. “I’m Dr. Payal. I was a close friend of Dileep’s. I wanted to pay my respects.”
Leesha was out of her chair and down the stairs in an instant. Without thinking, she threw her arms around Payal, burying her face in the woman’s shoulder as she sobbed. The rest of the family exchanged confused glances. They’d never seen Leesha and Payal interact before.
But Leesha didn’t care. She felt an instant connection with Payal, a bond forged through their shared love for Dileep.
After a few minutes of awkward small talk, Leesha asked, “Can we talk privately?” Payal nodded. Leesha led her up to her bedroom, locking the door behind them.
As soon as they were alone, Leesha burst into tears again. “I loved him,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I loved him so much.” She pulled Dileep’s diary from its hiding place and handed it to Payal. “I didn’t want anyone to find it, but I thought you should see it.”
Payal’s hands trembled as she took the diary and opened it. Her eyes filled with tears as she read Dileep’s words. She clutched the book to her chest. “I miss him too,” she said softly. “More than I can say.”
Leesha wiped her tears and took a deep breath. “I wanted to surprise him when he came back to India. I wanted to be with him. To let him dominate me, to give myself to him completely. But now I’ll never get the chance.”
Payal reached out and took Leesha’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone, Leesha. Dileep had a way of getting under your skin, of making you fall for him. I know how you feel.”
Leesha hesitated, then asked, “Did he…did he ever talk about me?”
Payal smiled through her tears. “All the time. You were all he could think about.” She hesitated, then laughed softly. “He even told me about the time he fucked his neighbour in the U.S. A young girl, Emily. He said he caught Covid from her because he was too stubborn to stop sleeping with her, even when she was sick. He was something else.”
Leesha’s eyes widened. “He… he fucked a foreigner? At his age?”
Payal nodded, laughing again. “That was Dileep. He was a sex genius, always pushing boundaries. I think he would’ve loved to have wrapped you around his finger.”
Leesha felt a pang of guilt and a strange sense of pride. He wanted me. He wanted me.
Payal stood, pulling Leesha into a tight hug. “I’m so glad we met,” she said softly. “I thought I’d have to keep my secrets about Dileep to myself forever. But now I have someone who understands.”
Leesha hugged her back, feeling a strange sense of peace. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
As Payal left, Leesha sat on her bed, clutching Dileep’s diary. He’s gone, she thought, tears streaming down her face. But I’ll always remember him. I’ll always love him. Deep down, she knew Dileep would be watching her, wherever he was, with that mischievous grin on his face.
Leesha sat on the edge of her bed, still clutching Dileep’s diary. Her fingers traced the worn leather cover as if touching it could bring him closer. Tears had dried on her cheeks, but the ache in her chest remained.
She flipped through the pages. Her eyes skimmed over the explicit details that had once made her pulse race. But now, the words felt like a cruel reminder of what she had lost.
As she turned the final page, something slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Leesha froze, her breath catching in her throat. She reached down and picked it up—a folded piece of paper, crisp and yellowed with age. Her hands trembled as she unfolded it, revealing Dileep’s bold, slanted handwriting.
“To whoever finds this letter, know that my life has been a testament to the pursuit of pleasure and connection. I have loved deeply, lusted fiercely, and lived without regret. But there are secrets I must confess, stories I can no longer keep to myself.”
Leesha’s heart pounded as she read, each word unravelling a new layer of Dileep’s life. The letter detailed his relationship with Payal and their shared history. The ways she had facilitated his sexual escapades.
One story, in particular, made Leesha’s breath hitch. A young woman named Jasmine, a student of Payal’s, had been introduced to Dileep in exchange for academic favours.
“Jasmine was a vision,” Dileep wrote. “Dark hair, flawless skin, and a fire in her eyes that matched mine. Payal had arranged it all, as she often did. Jasmine had been with three men before me but later told me I was the best. She called me ‘Chacha.’”
Leesha’s cheeks burned as she imagined the scene. Dileep, strong and dominant, took Jasmine with the same intensity she had fantasized about. Her stomach twisted with jealousy and a strange sense of pride. Dileep had lived boldly and unapologetically. She couldn’t help but admire him for it.
She folded the letter carefully and slipped it back into the diary. Her mind raced, torn between guilt and desire. She couldn’t deny the heat that simmered low in her belly, the way her body reacted to the memory of Dileep’s words. But he was gone, and she was left with nothing but his secrets and her longing.
A knock at the door startled her. “Leesha?” Payal’s voice came from the other side, soft but insistent.
“Come in,” Leesha called, quickly wiping her tears.
Payal entered, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, studying Leesha with a knowing look. “I thought you might want to talk,” she said. “I could tell something was on your mind earlier.”
Leesha hesitated, then held up the diary. “I found a letter,” she said quietly. “From Dileep. He… he mentioned you.”
Payal’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t look surprised. She crossed the room and sat beside Leesha, taking the diary. She flipped to the back and found the letter, reading it silently. When she finished, she sighed softly and closed the diary.
“I wondered if he’d leave something like this,” Payal said, her voice tinged with sadness. “He always did have a flair for the dramatic.”
Leesha stared at her, searching for answers. “You… you arranged things for him? With Jasmine? With others?”
Payal met her gaze, unflinching. “Yes. Dileep and I had an understanding. He was insatiable. And I enjoyed being the one who could fulfil his desires, even if it was indirectly.”
“But why?” Leesha asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Payal smiled faintly. “Because he made me feel alive. Because he saw me for who I truly was, without judgment. And because I loved him, in my way.” She paused, then added, “Did you know he wanted you, Leesha? Long before you read that diary. He saw the fire in you, even if you didn’t see it yourself.”
Leesha’s breath caught. “He told you that?”
Payal nodded. “He did. He said you were different. That you had a strength and beauty that captivated him. He wanted you, but he knew it was wrong. So he kept his distance.”
Leesha’s eyes filled with tears again. “I wish I had known. I wish I could have…”
“Don’t,” Payal interrupted gently. “Don’t dwell on what could have been. Dileep wouldn’t have wanted that.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Dileep’s absence pressing down on them. Then Payal reached into her purse and pulled out a small notebook. She handed it to Leesha.
“What’s this?” Leesha asked, flipping it open.
“It’s a list,” Payal said. “Of the women he… connected with. Jasmine, Emily, and a few others. I thought you might want to know.”
Leesha scanned the names, her heart pounding. Each one was a reminder of Dileep’s voracious appetite, his ability to draw people in and leave them forever changed. She closed the notebook and clutched it to her chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Payal stood, smoothing her skirt. “I should go,” she said. “But if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
Leesha watched her leave, the notebook still pressed against her heart. Her mind raced with images of Dileep—his smirk, his hands, his voice. She lay back on the bed, her body tingling with a mix of grief and desire.
She opened the notebook again, her fingers tracing Jasmine’s name. What was it like? she wondered. To be with him, to feel his touch, to hear him call you “Chacha”?
Her breath quickened as her hand slid down her body beneath the waistband of her pants. She closed her eyes, letting herself imagine Dileep’s hands instead of hers. His deep voice, low and commanding, whispered in her ear. His body pressed into hers, hot and demanding.
“Leesha,” he would say, his breath warm against her skin. “You’re mine.”
Her fingers moved faster, her hips arching off the bed. She could almost feel him as if he were right there with her. Her breath came in short gasps, her body trembling with need.
“Dileep,” she whispered, his name a prayer on her lips.
And then she came, her body convulsing with pleasure, her mind awash with images of him. She lay there, panting, tears streaming down her face. Dileep was gone. But at that moment, it felt like he was still with her, watching her with that mischievous grin.
Hours later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Leesha sat by the window, staring at the fading light. She held the notebook in her lap, her fingers idly flipping through the pages. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—grief, desire, guilt, and something else she couldn’t quite name.
A thought nagged at the back of her mind, refusing to be ignored. She stood abruptly, her decision made. She grabbed her phone and dialled a number, her heart pounding with anticipation.
Payal answered on the second ring. “Leesha? Is everything alright?”
Leesha took a deep breath, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “Payal, I need to know. Where can I find Jasmine?”
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