The monsoon rain hammered the tin roof of the old guest house like it wanted to break through. Lightning flashed again and again, throwing hard white light across the small bare room. Outside, the wind howled through the trees. Inside, the air was thick and hot.

Priya stood in the middle of the floor, her body shaking. The thin cotton sari clung to her like wet skin. Every curve showed. Her heavy boobs pushed hard against the soaked cloth. Dark nipples stood stiff and clear through the fabric. Water ran from her long black hair, down the deep valley between her breasts, over her soft stomach, and into the folds of the sari that hugged her wide hips and full thighs.