Anjali Mehra rushed through the doorway, arms full of grocery bags stacked too high. As she fumbled with the handle, one bag slipped from her grasp, tumbling to the floor—apples rolling across the floor and a box of cereal bursting open.

“Oh no—oh no, no, no,” she gasped, scrambling to catch the runaway apples. Her cheeks flushed deep red as she looked up.

“I—I’m so sorry,” she stammered, brushing her hair out of her face. “I didn’t mean to—um—make a mess.”

She glanced at the person nearby, eyes wide. “Could you—uh—maybe help me? Just with the apples? Please?”

After a pause, she added quickly, “I’m Anjali. Anjali Mehra. Thank you—I mean—for helping, if you can.”

Anjali blushed even deeper at the compliment, but before she could think of anything else to say, she turned her attention back to gathering up the apples and cereal. She carefully placed everything into a single large bag, careful not to lose any more in the process. Finally, the last apple was picked up, and she set about cleaning up the mess with some napkins from her purse.

"T-thank you," she muttered, her voice barely audible over the noise of her scrubbing. She glanced over at him as he helped, feeling a strange warmth spread through her chest. Anjali Mehra was used to being invisible; people rarely paid attention to her, let alone went out of their way to help her out. It was... nice, she thought. Maybe a little frightening too.

Anjali hesitated for a moment before answering, "My name is Anjali Mehra." Her voice was soft and shy, hardly carrying across the room. She finished wiping up the last of the cereal and stuffed the napkins into her bag of garbage, then turned back to face him properly.

He seemed friendly enough, but she couldn't help but feel self-conscious about her appearance. Anjali knew she wasn't the prettiest girl in town—in fact, she was downright ugly compared to some people. Her hair was a messy tangle of black curls framing a face that was too round and pink. She didn't have any curves either; all her extra weight seemed to be centered around her midsection, giving her an overall pear shape. And let's not even get started on her pubic hair.

Still, here he was, offering to

"N-nice to meet you, Michael," she stammered, her cheeks reddening even further. "Um... I should get these bags put away. Th-thanks again for helping." She took a small step back, uncertain of what else to say or do now that the immediate crisis had been averted.

Her heart was racing; she couldn't remember the last time anyone had paid her so much attention. Maybe it was because he'd said she was beautiful? No, surely not. People lied all the time, didn't they? He couldn't possibly mean that... Could he?

Swallowing hard, Anjali forced herself to focus on putting away the groceries. It was better than thinking about what Michael might be thinking or feeling.

Thank you again for helping me with that... and calling me beautiful. It's been a while since anyone's said something like that to me. I apologize if my appearance made you feel obligated, though... I should probably clean myself up more often.

Stunned into silence, Anjali could feel her heart race even faster as he asked for her number. She wasn't used to men being interested in her at all, much less someone who seemed so... confident and attractive. It felt like a dream, or maybe something out of one of those romance novels she'd read while hiding away from the world.

Slowly, carefully, she pulled out her phone and opened up the contact list. With trembling fingers, she entered Michael's information. When she looked back up at him, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "There you are," she whispered softly. "My number."

"Yes," she breathed, her voice barely audible even to herself. "We can talk soon." The hope in her words was palpable; the idea of actually speaking with Michael outside this grocery store filled her with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. She could feel herself blushing again as they exchanged numbers, her heart skipping a beat every time he looked at her. It felt like she was floating on air.

As they parted ways, Anjali didn't know what the future held for them or if anything would come of this chance meeting. All she knew was that, for once, something wonderful had happened to her... and she wanted more.

"Hey Michael," she replied, her fingers trembling as she typed out his name on the keyboard. "It's nice to hear from you." A wave of nervous anticipation washed over her; this felt almost like a first date, except they hadn't actually gone anywhere or done anything yet. Anjali smiled, telling herself to relax and enjoy the moment. She wondered what he would text next.

Her heart skipped a beat as she read his message. A date? With her? She could hardly believe it; no one had ever asked her out before. Before she could overthink things, she quickly typed out her reply. "I'd love to go on a date with you, Michael." The excitement was building inside her chest; just the thought of spending time alone with him made her feel giddy and lightheaded.

She sent the message and waited eagerly for his response, only able to focus on the little blue dot that indicated he was typing back to her. Her cheeks flushed bright red in anticipation, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down before she exploded with nervous energy.

"That's perfect! Thank you, Michael." She grinned to herself, the butterflies in her stomach dancing excitedly at the thought of seeing him again so soon. Anjali wondered what they would do on their date; maybe go for dinner and a movie? Or perhaps he had something else planned entirely. Either way, she couldn't wait to find out. As the day passed, she busied herself getting ready, carefully picking out an outfit that would make her feel beautiful and confident.

Finally, the clock struck eight o'clock sharp. Anjali glanced down at her phone once more, taking a deep breath before she opened the front door and stepped outside. There he was, waiting patiently by his car. Her heart skipped another beat as she took in his handsome features and noticed how neatly he was dressed. He smiled when he saw her approach, and her stomach did som

"Thank you," she murmured softly, her cheeks burning even hotter at his compliment. She smiled shyly up at him and let him take her hand, leading her to the passenger side of his car. As they drove off into the night, Anjali couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and anticipation wash over her. It seemed almost too good to be true; she had never imagined that someone like Michael could ever want to spend time with someone like her.

But there he was, holding her hand and smiling at her as if she were the most important person in the world. The date itself was magical: they went to an amazing restaurant where their food tasted better than it ever had before, and then they saw a movie that made them both laugh and cry in equal measure. Every time he looked at her, Anjali felt like she could fly.

By the end of the night,

"I... I don't know," Anjali stammered, her cheeks flushing even darker with embarrassment. "I mean, it's late, and I'm not sure if that's appropriate." She glanced out the window, feeling a mixture of confusion and desire course through her. A part of her wanted nothing more than to go to his place and explore the magic between them further; another part was terrified of what might happen once they were alone together.

Michael chuckled softly, reaching over to brush a curl away from her face. "I understand your hesitation, but I promise we'll just end the night there before I take you home." His voice was reassuring, gentle. It made Anjali feel safe and cared for in ways she never had before. Finally, she nodded slowly, mustering up the courage to trust him.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible even to herself as they pulled up outside his apartment building. With shaking hands, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, following Michael toward the elevator. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt lightheaded with excitement and anticipation. What would happen between them tonight?

"It's beautiful," she breathed as he led her inside his apartment. It was warm and cozy, with tasteful decor that made it feel inviting and comfortable. Anjali couldn't help but admire the way Michael had made this place into such a reflection of himself. She felt an odd sense of belonging here, despite knowing they'd only just met.

As they sat down on the couch together, she glanced over at him, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. "Michael... thank you for tonight. It's been wonderful."

Her cheeks flushed deep red at his words; she hadn't expected him to say something so bold and complimentary. She had never felt this way about anyone before, let alone someone as handsome and confident as Michael. As they sat there together on the couch, their bodies inches apart but still carefully maintaining a sense of propriety, Anjali couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. Would he lean in for a kiss? Would she dare to reciprocate?

The tension between them grew thick with anticipation and desire, making it difficult for either of them to speak or even breathe normally. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Michael broke the silence. "Anjali," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I want you."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words;

Her breath caught in her throat as he spoke, his words sending shivers down her spine. She wanted him too; she had never wanted anything more than to feel his touch and kiss him right then and there. With trembling fingers, she reached up and brushed them against his cheek before moving forward to press their lips together in a tentative kiss.

At first, it was gentle and uncertain, but as they both grew bolder, their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths with eager abandon. Anjali could taste the desire on his lips, feel the heat radiating from his body as he held her close against him. She had never felt so alive before, so wanted and cherished. As they kissed deeper still, lost in the moment together, she knew that this was what she'd been searching for all along: love, acceptance... and Michael.

Her eyes widened as he asked the question, her flush deepening to crimson. "I-it's true," she stammered, looking down. "I haven't... not until now." The admission left her feeling even more exposed than before, but somehow it also made the moment between them feel even more intimate and special.

"You don't have to be nervous," Michael whispered, cupping her face in his hands. "I want this with you. I want to make love to you." His voice was gentle and reassuring, sending waves of comfort through her body as they continued to kiss passionately.

She trembled slightly at the thought of losing her virginity, but there was no denying the desire that surged through her at his words. Michael felt so right, so perfect; she trusted him completely, and that trust allowed her to surrender herself to the moment without reservation.

As he strips away her clothes, revealing her pale skin and the dark tuft of hair at her sex, Anjali feels a mixture of shame and desire welling up inside her. She's always been self-conscious about her appearance, but with Michael looking at her like this... it's different. He makes her feel beautiful and wanted in a way she never thought possible.

When he lays her down on the bed and leans over her, his warm breath caressing her neck, Anjali gives herself up to the moment entirely. She arches into him when he kisses a trail of soft, slow kisses down her chest and across her stomach before finally taking one of her breasts in his mouth and suckling gently. A loud moan escapes her lips as pleasure washes over her in waves.

The sensation is intense but not entirely unpleasant; it feels as if he's claiming her in the most primal way possible. She grips the sheets beneath her, digging her nails into them as she arches into him with each thrust, desperate for more contact and pleasure. "Not yet," she whispers, "not quite." Her voice is hoarse from the sounds of desire that have escaped her lips unbidden.

As he continues to push deeper, Anjali's body tenses and relax, learning how to accommodate him as he takes what is his. It's a strange feeling, this loss of control, but she finds herself welcoming it with open arms... or perhaps even begging for more. "Michael," she gasps, her nails digging into the skin on his back now as he bury himself to the hilt inside her.

Her hips rise to meet each thrust, and she cries out his name as pleasure washes over her in waves. With each movement, he seems to find a new spot that makes her whole body tremble with need. Her fingernails dig into his shoulders as she arches her back off the bed, desperate for more contact and release. "Michael," she breathes, her voice ragged from the intense sensations coursing through her.

The air fills with muffled sounds of skin against skin, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm together. The ache deep within her grows, spreading outward until it fills every fiber of her being. She can feel herself building toward something powerful and inevitable... the urge to climax pressing down on her like a thousand weights.

"So good," she gasps out between moans as he continues to thrust inside her. "Michael... I'm close..." Her hips begin to jerk upward of their own accord, meeting his movements with a hunger that shocks even her. It feels like her whole body is on fire, each nerve ending tingling and singing with sensation as she edges closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he growls roughly against her ear, driving into her harder now. His hands grip her hips possessively, guiding her through the storm of pleasure that's building inside her. "Let it go." And suddenly, the dam breaks, releasing a torrent of pleasure that tears through her in waves so intense she sees stars. Her body shudders and arches off the bed as she cries out his name, the release coursing through every nerve ending until she's left shaking

As his body tenses against hers and he groans her name, Anjali feels the familiar warmth spreading between their bodies, signaling that they've shared this moment together. Their breath comes in ragged gasps as they lie tangled in each other's limbs on the bed. Despite the pleasure still coursing through her, a sense of something unnamable washes over Anjali. It's like she just crossed some invisible threshold, and now nothing will ever be the same again. But for once, it feels right. It feels good.

As they lie there together, spent and sated, Anjali tries to process what just happened. Her body feels warm and full, her heart racing with a mixture of exhilaration and disbelief. She glances up at Michael, taking in the contented expression on his face, the way he's still moving slightly against her, their bodies connected in a way that defies words.

"I feel... wonderful," she whispers softly, wrapping her arms around him tighter. "Thank you." A strange sense of peace washes over her as they lie there together; it feels like they've shared something intimate and profound, something that will forever bond them together. And for the first time in a very long time... she doesn't feel quite so alone.