The Hunger in Her Navel

The next morning, Ponam tied a pink light fabric saree with a tight green blouse. She covered and locked her navel securely with a safety pin, telling herself what he was doing was wrong. But she also left her pallu loose and flowing, which made her belly more exposed than usual. A hidden part of her—the one with the fetish—liked his attention and wanted to tease him a little.

Karthik received a call and left for work early, telling Ponam he would be back soon. Alone in the house, a tempting thought crossed her mind. She went to her bedroom and pulled out an old equipment box. Inside was a belly dancer’s chain. She tried to put it on, but it was old and the clasp was tight—it wouldn’t fit.

Soon after, Irfan arrived.

Ponam opened the door, looking as stunning as always, but something about her seemed even hotter today. Irfan noticed immediately—her belly was more exposed because of how loosely her pallu was draped. He asked about Karthik.

“He left early. He’ll be back soon,” she said.

Irfan felt a pang of disappointment—he had hoped for more private time to convince her. Not wanting to waste a moment, he got straight to the point.

“What did you think about what I said yesterday?”

She played innocent, a slight tease in her voice. “What thing? I don’t remember. Be specific.”

“About kissing and eating your deep navel,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

“If that’s the topic, don’t speak about it to me,” she replied, turning slightly away.

But Irfan didn’t give up. He moved closer, his voice filled with desperation. “You don’t understand how addicted I am to your navel. I want to see it all day, eat it until I’m full. I can’t think of anything else. You don’t know how deep and perfect it is. You’re a navel queen—a Navel Rani. If you had become a belly dancer, people would have died just to see it, just to kiss it. Please… I’m begging you… let me at least kiss it once so I can think straight again.”

Ponam shook her head, a blush creeping up her neck. “You’re a mad person. No means no.” She turned fully away from him, but inside, her heart raced. His intense attraction—his obsession with her navel—stirred something deep and secret within her.

Her baby began to cry. She went to the crib, picked up her child, and began gently rocking it to sleep over her shoulder while standing. From behind, Irfan saw the curve of her back, her hips, the delicate arch of her waist. He was mesmerized. He realized she was locked in place, unable to move without disturbing the baby.

Seeing this as his chance, he moved close behind her. His hands found the curves of her waist, gripping them from both sides. She stiffened, a shock of goosebumps rushing over her skin as he began to slowly trace her entire waist with his fingers.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she whispered sharply, trying not to shout.

But then he pressed deeply into the soft flesh of her curves. Her protest died in her throat, replaced by a bitten lip. He squeezed harder, and a soft, helpless moan escaped her—“Ummmmm…”

Now his hands moved from her waist, sliding toward the navel. Relasing she pushed him away strongly, gently laid the sleeping baby in its crib, and then ran to her bedroom. Irfan followed instantly.

Inside her bedroom, his eyes immediately landed on the old hip chain lying on her dressing table. His heart raced with understanding. She’s interested too.

“Why is it out?” he asked.

She stood silent, her blush answering for her.

He understood. “Wear it,” he said, his voice low.

She refused, shaking her head. “It doesn’t fit. The clasp is too tight.”

“Let me help you.”

He knelt before her, wrapping the cool metal around her waist. He struggled with the tight hook, pushing until it finally clasped shut. He looked up. The chain sat perfectly on her hips, making her belly look even more tempting. She looked unbelievably sexy.

“Could you dance for me?” he whispered. “At least one move.”

She refused at first, but then gave in. She swayed her hips, a few simple belly dance movements. The metal chain dug into her soft curves, seeming to be swallowed by the folds of her skin. Her hip fold enveloped the chain, making it disappear completely into her softness. He was mesmerized.

Feeling that Karthik might return soon, she grew anxious and tried to remove it herself, but the clasp wouldn’t budge.”Take it off,” she said after a moment. He tried, but the clasp was too tight.

“Let me try with my mouth,” he said.

Before she could react, he leaned in, using his teeth to work the stubborn hook. As he did, his nose brushed against the warm skin of her waist. She closed her eyes, breath catching. With a soft click, the chain came loose. He looked up and saw her—eyes shut, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling.

She was waiting. Wanting.

His eyes fell to the mole on the curve of her waist—the same mole that had been a bullseye, tempting him every single day. Without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed it.

“Ahhhh!” she moaned, her hands flying to his head, fingers tangling in his hair.

Seeing her completely seduced, he turned her to fully face him. His hands went to her saree, trying to move it from her navel, but the safety pin held it firmly in place.

“This is your best gift,” he breathed, desperate. “And you hide it all day. It should be free. It should be worshipped. Please… don’t cover it.”

He fumbled for the pin, but at that exact moment, they heard the sound of Karthik entering the mansion downstairs.

The spell broke. Consciousness rushed back into her eyes. She pushed Irfan away with all her strength and hurried out of the room.

Now Karthik had returned. The three of them sat, and Irfan and Karthik went through all the business plans, budgets, and discussions for the day. Karthik was pleased—all the major work was done, with only the final agreement left for tomorrow.

Irfan felt a mix of happiness and frustration. He’d kissed her waist, felt her surrender, but he still hadn’t seen her navel today. The hunger was still there, sharp and unmet.

As they wrapped up, Irfan sat on one sofa, Karthik on another, and Ponam stood quietly behind her husband. Irfan’s eyes found hers. Without a word, he made a small, deliberate gesture with his hand, telling her to move her saree and show him her navel, requesting her.

She understood. A faint blush rose on her cheeks, but she didn’t move.

Seeing her reaction—that hint of shared secret—Irfan smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips.

“We’ll meet tomorrow,” he said smoothly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned and left. The game was still on.

After Irfan left, Ponam couldn’t sleep. All she could think about were his daring touches—the way his hands had roamed her waist, the electric thrill of his kiss on her waist mole sending her to heaven. She’d never felt anything like it.No one had ever made her feel that way.

A deep, hungry heat burned inside her, unleashing the navel fetish she’d buried long ago—the dancer’s craving to be seen and worshipped. Now, she decided to satisfy that inner hunger, letting her hidden self emerge. Irfan wants her navel… and she wants him to have it.

The next morning, Ponam took a milk and butter bath, making her skin glow and feel extra smooth. She then tied a transparent black saree, choosing it specifically to tease him the most—to make him beg and to finally enjoy herself fully.

In the afternoon, when Irfan reached their house, she opened the door looking absolutely stunning. The moment Irfan saw her, he was shocked and instantly felt a powerful rush of desire. He wanted to kiss her right away. He saw her waist, which looked like a half-moon shining so sexy in the black saree, and that deep navel through the transparent saree.

They went inside. Irfan and Karthik started talking, but Irfan’s concentration was completely on Ponam. While they were talking, Ponam brought a cup of coffee from the kitchen for Irfan.While walking, he saw her saree so loose, and suddenly due to the table fan air, the saree was displaced. He saw her navel—it looked like a deep black hole in the middle of that white belly. His mouth watered and leaked saliva seeing this. Ponam smiled and gave him the coffee. She was so close to him that he wanted to kiss and lick that navel right there, if Karthik wasn’t there.

She stood right in front of him, doing it on purpose to tease him. While drinking his coffee, he couldn’t stop looking at her navel, feeling incredibly horny. He then realized something: every other day, she had covered her navel with a safety pin. Today, there was no pin.

That means she wanted to tease me, he thought, his heart racing. She is ready for my play.

Now she took the cup from him and went to the kitchen. Karthik was absorbed in reading the agreement and business details. Meanwhile, Irfan went to the kitchen, where Ponam was working.

He saw her back as she worked. He moved close, his hands finding the curves of her waist from behind, and squeezed firmly. Ponam bit back a moan.

“You look so sexy today,” he whispered, turning her gently to face him. He knelt down in front of her. Through the transparent fabric, her deep navel called to him like a dark, perfect well. He pushed the transparent saree aside.

There it was—exposed. A deep, perfect navel with a small, enticing mole just above it. Her belly was slick with a light sweat from the kitchen heat. A single drop of sweat traced a slow path down the curve of her side, over the mole there. Without hesitation, he leaned in and licked the drop away with his tongue.

She bit her lip hard, suppressing any sound. She was clutching tomatoes in her hand, squeezing them so tightly they burst, the juice running between her fingers. Still, a faint, helpless “ummm” escaped her.

Now he was looking at that navel so madly. He was eager to eat it. Her navel mole was calling him to kiss it, and her navel was inviting his tongue to lick it. Then he blew air into her navel—she was so tempted.

Suddenly, Karthik called from the other room, “Irfan? I have a question about this clause.”

Irfan began to pull away, but Ponam stopped him. She caught his head in her hands and gently guided it back toward her navel, signaling him to kiss it.

His heart soared. But he wanted to tempt her more. He held her waist firmly on both sides and pressed a hot, lingering kiss to the mole just beside her navel—but didn’t touch the navel. She trembled violently, biting her own hand to stay silent.

Then, before she could break, he pulled away and calmly walked back to Karthik as if nothing had happened.

Now he explained everything to Karthik, signed the agreements, shook hands, and then Irfan went out. He made a call to one of his dealers, telling him to offer Karthik a bunch of load items for a very low price and make him come see the items right now—so Karthik would leave the mansion today for the good deal. That way, Irfan could have Ponam and her navel the whole night.

Now, as he instructed, Karthik got a call regarding the load. He was so excited for the deal, as he would get so much profit. He was so happy telling this news to both Irfan and Ponam, and told them, “I should leave now urgently.”

Irfan smiled looking at Ponam, and she blushed—she knew it was his plan. Now Karthik started to pack his bag and asked Irfan to drop him to the railway station.

They both were having dinner on the dining table, sitting opposite. Ponam stood back to her husband. Now she was left so horny by Irfan’s moves in the kitchen, and he also didn’t kiss her navel and left her horny in the kitchen—so she wanted to take revenge on Irfan.

So she seducingly moved her black saree and revealed her white belly and dark navel. Now she started bending and changing her navel shapes, which made Irfan so horny. It looked like her navel was speaking to kiss and eat it. She was lustfully bending and making her deep navel look even deeper.

Then, she reached for the fruit bowl. She picked a single, plump black grape. Slowly, never breaking eye contact with Irfan, she pressed it into the center of her navel. It sat there, a dark jewel nestled in that sweet, deep hollow.

Irfan’s fork froze mid-air. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t look away. He was completely, utterly captive.

Dinner ended. At the front door, Karthik gave Ponam a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening,” he said before heading to the car.

Irfan followed, then slapped his pocket dramatically. “My keys! I left them inside. Wait in the car, I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t go for the keys. He ran straight to the dining table, snatched the grape from her plate, and then sprinted to her bedroom, where she was removing her saree. Seeing Irfan, she was shocked and asked, “What are you doing here?” She was only in her blouse and petticoat her waist and navel fully bare.

He knelt down, looking at her breathing heavily—making her boobs bounce and her belly without any cloth fully visible, navel shaking and looking deeper. He caught her waist and inserted that grape into her navel—70% of the grape went inside, and the other was out.

Without a second of hesitation, he leaned in and bit off the exposed part of the grape. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin, and his lips pressed against the rim of her navel.

“Aaahahhhhh!” she cried out, a loud, shameless moan she couldn’t suppress. Her hands flew to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Her whole body trembled, waiting for him to finish, to dig out the remaining piece with his tongue, to claim the deepest part of her. But he stopped. He pulled back, leaving the rest of the grape buried inside her.

He stood up, looking down at her stunned, flushed, and desperately hungry face. He wanted her to ache. To burn. To wait.

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, out of the house, and got into the car where Karthik was waiting, leaving Ponam breathless, wild with need, and utterly unfinished.