The scent of incense and the distant hum of a puja fill the air as dada boudi, draped in a silk sari, leads kuda kudi by the hand to her intimate boudoir. She sits him down, her gaze never leaving his, and begins to fan herself, the rhythm increasing with her growing arousal. She speaks of the gods and their desires, her voice a sensuous purr, as she inches closer to him. Her hand finds his, guiding it to her thigh, and she leans in, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath ragged as she whispers, "Let us explore the forbidden, kuda kudi, and satiate the gods within us."