Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[Tippubhai]

Waiting curiously for your update. Literally counting the days

[dickrider]

I really feel guilty. You guys really like the story so much. I have never seen so many comments on any other unfinished story. Ok. I will try to do something as soon as possible. But lets not put a date to it. I will do one. But it will take at least 10 to 12 days. Everyday i will try to make one or two scenes and compile them. After wo weeks, i should be able to give you guys a well deserved update.

12 days have passed yet no update 

Please atleast give a mini update of about 4-5 paragraphs

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

I didnt forget you guys. Just a small scene from the upcoming episodes. I was busy with my exams. two more left. Will be published coming Saturday. 

He grabbed her right leg and lifted it high, resting it on his left shoulder. This position spread her legs wide open, completely exposing her freshly eaten, swollen pink pussy. Her puffy lips glistened with her own thick white cream and his spit. He gripped her left thigh firmly with his right hand and slid his other hand under her raised right leg to grab a handful of her soft, juicy ass cheek, pulling her dripping cunt right toward his face.

Before Simran could react, Bhola buried his mouth against her pussy and gave it a hard, hungry smooch — lips sucking on her swollen folds, tongue pressing flat against her clit.
“Aaahhhhhh… Bholaaa…!” Simran screamed in pure joy and pleasure, her hands flying to his head. Her knees buckled slightly as a fresh jolt of electricity shot through her body.
Bhola pulled back just enough to speak, his lips shiny with her juices.
“Kyuki aapki choot itni meethi aur garam hai Bhabhi… main intezaar nahi kar paaya… sorry… bahut tasty hai aapki yeh pink choot… main isko choosne ke liye pagal ho jaata hoon…”

[dickrider]

Saturday will be the day when Simran will get to know what really a BULL means

As she's already in love with the massive cock of Bhola, he'll make sure she loves his thing more and more

BHOLA will do all his homework before giving the actual test and he will surely pass the test with A+ Grade

Can't wait more for Saturday

Love you Bro

[Tippubhai]

Eagerly waiting for tomorrow's update

[Tippubhai]

Finally it's Saturday. Waiting for the lengthy update

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Editing in progress. Should be ready. Will post soon. But quite a few pages. 

[dickrider]

Editing in progress. Should be ready. Will post soon. But quite a few pages. 

A quick recap will be good before we continue ahead

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

A quick recap will be good before we continue ahead

Page no 32.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Simran stepped out of the washroom, wiping her hands on a small towel, when a sudden jolt of panic hit her.
 
The photos. The video.
 
The memory of Bhola recording her while she was on her knees sucking his massive cock flashed in her mind like lightning. She had completely forgotten about it in the rush of getting ready for Ravi. Her heart started hammering in her chest.
 
She hurried out of the washroom and froze in the doorway.
 
Ravi was sitting on the bed, holding her phone in his hands, scrolling through something with full concentration. The screen glow lit up his face in the dimly lit room.
 
Simran’s heart skipped a beat. For a terrifying second, she thought he might have opened the gallery.
 
She forced herself to stay calm. Instead of snatching the phone (which would immediately make him suspicious), she walked casually toward the bedside table on Ravi’s side, pretending to search for something.
 
“Ravi… have you seen my hair clip?” she asked, opening the drawer and rummaging inside while subtly trying to glance at what he was doing on her phone.
 
Ravi looked up briefly, still focused on the screen.
 
“Mine battery is very low,” he said casually. “Hence using yours. I’m just ordering a new office bag from Amazon. The one I have is falling apart.”
 
His own phone was charging on the same bedside table, screen dark.
 
Simran felt a wave of relief wash over her, but she kept her voice light.
 
“Of course, no problem,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her right ear with her right hand, trying to look completely normal. Inside, she was cursing Bhola furiously.
 
That idiot… recording everything on my phone! What if Ravi had opened the gallery?
 
She sat down on the edge of the bed, still pretending to look for something, her mind racing. Ravi continued browsing for a few more seconds, then handed the phone back to her.
 
“Thanks, baby,” he said, kissing her cheek lightly before lying back on the bed.
 
Simran took the phone with a small smile.
 
“I’ll just go drink some water and be back,” she said, standing up quickly.
 
She walked downstairs to the kitchen, her heart still pounding. The moment she was alone, she unlocked the phone with her fingerprint and opened the gallery.
 
The first thumbnail that appeared made her breath catch.
 
It was a clear, high-resolution photo of her on her knees — mouth stretched obscenely wide around Bhola’s enormous, thick cock, her eyes looking up at him with pure lust, spit and precum dripping from her lips. The contrast was breathtaking: her beautiful, innocent face stuffed with that dark, veiny monster. The video thumbnail right next to it showed the same scene in motion.
 
Simran stared at it, a strange mix of terror and arousal flooding her body. If Ravi had seen even one of these…
 
She wanted to delete them immediately. Her finger hovered over the delete button.
 
But then a deep, forbidden tingle ran through her stomach. She felt her pussy twitch at the memory. The sight of herself sucking Bhola’s cock like that was incredibly hot. She couldn’t bring herself to delete them just yet.
 
She quickly searched the phone settings and found the “Hidden Album” feature. She moved all the photos and the video into the hidden folder, which could only be unlocked with her fingerprint.
 
She let out a long, shaky breath.
 
Safe… for now.
 
But the knowledge that those explicit videos and photos existed on her phone — proof of her cheating, her submission, her hunger — made her thighs press together tightly.
 
She stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, trying to compose herself before going back upstairs to her husband.
 
The secrets were multiplying.
 
And Simran was sinking deeper into them with every passing hour.
 
Simran slept a little more comfortably than she expected. After the intense, exhausting afternoon with Bhola, her body had finally given in to deep, dreamless rest. She woke up around 7:30 AM feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and lingering guilt. Her breasts were tender, her lips still slightly swollen, and between her legs there was a pleasant soreness. She freshened up quietly, avoiding too much eye contact with herself in the mirror.
 
Ravi had already left for the office by the time she came downstairs. He had kissed her forehead gently before leaving, whispering that he had an important day ahead. Simran hadn’t asked for details, and Ravi hadn’t offered any. Neither of them had brought up the Bangalore meeting again.
 
What Ravi hadn’t told Simran — and what she hadn’t thought to ask — was the true nature of that meeting.
 
 
The meeting had been scheduled with the owner of a rapidly growing AI-based app company. On paper, it was a straightforward networking and expansion project for their Indian operations, building on their successful setup in Korea. But the moment Ravi stepped into the luxurious conference room, he understood this was no ordinary client.
 
The owner was a woman in her late thirties — an absolute bombshell. Tall, confident, with sharp features, long dark hair, and a body that turned heads even in a professional setting. She wore a tailored black business suit that hugged her curves perfectly — full breasts, narrow waist, and hips that swayed with natural authority. Her name was Meera Kapoor, a wealthy Indian entrepreneur who had spent most of her life abroad.
 
The initial discussions were professional. But after the rest of her team left the room, Meera had asked Ravi to stay back for a “specific discussion.”
 
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her long legs, and looked at him directly.
 
“Mr. Ravi… can you help us understand what goes on in the mind of the normal Indian public as far as sex is concerned?”
 
Ravi had been completely taken aback. The question was direct, almost clinical, but delivered with a sultry undertone that made the air in the room feel heavier.
 
Meera continued without missing a beat.
 
“We are expanding our AI platform in India. It’s… adult-oriented. Soft porn, personalized fantasies, virtual companions — that kind of thing. But we need authentic cultural insights. What turns Indian men and women on? What are their hidden desires? Their taboos? Their fantasies? We don’t want generic data. We want real, grounded understanding. And since you’re heading this project, I thought it best to discuss this privately with you.”
 
The conversation quickly turned very sexual.
 
Meera spoke openly about kinks, fetishes, the Indian male fantasy of the “innocent yet slutty” woman, the appeal of forbidden relationships, the obsession with breasts and curvy figures, the secret desire for dominance and submission. She asked Ravi pointed questions about what Indian husbands really want in bed, what wives fantasize about when their husbands are away, and how technology could tap into those unspoken needs.
 
Ravi found himself both professional and uncomfortably aroused. Meera was magnetic — beautiful, intelligent, and completely unapologetic about the nature of her business. By the end of the meeting, Ravi was sweating slightly, his mind racing with images he knew he shouldn’t be having.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

He had to fly to Korea the day after tomorrow for a week to understand the core architecture of their platform before finalizing the Indian rollout. Today, back in Chandigarh, he had to brief his team and lock in the project scope.
 
Ravi hadn’t told Simran any of this.
 
He simply said it was a big networking project with a Korean-Indian tech firm.
 
And Simran, lost in her own whirlwind of secrets, hadn’t asked for more details.
 
Simran finished her breakfast quietly, her mind still replaying the previous day’s events. Bhola moved around the kitchen efficiently, preparing lunch in advance. The house felt deceptively normal.
 
But underneath it all, the tension was simmering.
 
Ravi was at the office, preparing for his Korea trip and the high-stakes project with Meera Kapoor.
 
Simran was at home, carrying the weight of her growing addiction to Bhola.
 
And Bhola… was simply doing his job, unaware of how deeply he had already changed the dynamics of the house.
 
 
Simran went upstairs after breakfast and lay down on the large bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning slowly above her. The house was quiet, but her mind was anything but.
 
What would happen when the inevitable finally happened?
 
The thought sent a fresh wave of goosebumps racing across her skin. Her stomach fluttered with a strange, nervous heat. She could already imagine it — Bhola’s massive, thick cock pushing inside her, stretching her pussy to its limits, filling her completely. The burn, the fullness, the overwhelming pleasure-pain of taking something so enormous. She had felt how big it was in her mouth, how it had stretched her lips and made her gag. What would it do to her pussy?
 
She pressed her thighs together tightly, feeling a fresh twitch between her legs.
 
He ate my pussy like a man possessed yesterday… and I had the biggest, most violent orgasm of my life. And he’s supposed to be a virgin. What will happen when he actually fucks me? When that monster slides all the way inside me?
 
The image made her bite her lip hard. Bhola was like a delicious, forbidden dish she didn’t want to finish, but she also couldn’t stop craving more. Every time she was near him, her body reacted on its own. She was losing control, and it terrified her.
 
She couldn’t stay in this house like this. She would go mad if she kept thinking about him all day.
 
Simran sat up, grabbed her phone, and opened Google Maps. She searched for the nearest gym. A Cult Fit center popped up just a few kilometers away — modern, well-equipped, with good reviews. Perfect.
 
She called them immediately.
 
“Hello? Yes, I’d like to know about your monthly subscription plans… timings, classes, everything.”
 
While she was on the call, discussing packages and class schedules, Bhola quietly entered the room with a glass of warm milk mixed with Jeevdhatu. He placed it gently on the bedside table without interrupting her conversation.
 
Simran gave him a small, distracted nod of thanks and continued speaking on the phone.
 
Bhola noticed she hadn’t taken a bath yet. He went to the bathroom, picked up the used clothes, and took them downstairs to the laundry area. Then he prepared a bowl of his special fragrant massage oil — the same blend of sweet almond, ylang-ylang, sandalwood, clary sage, and vanilla he had used before. He brought the bowl back upstairs and waited patiently near the door.
 
By the time Simran finished her call and hung up, Bhola was standing there with the bowl in his hands.
 
Simran looked at him, a complex mix of emotions swirling inside her — lingering desire, fresh guilt, and a growing need to create some distance.
 
The house felt smaller with every passing hour.
 
And Bhola was still there, ready to serve her in every way she might need.
 
Simran had just finished her call with the gym when Bhola entered the room again, carrying the bowl of fragrant massage oil. The sweet, warm scent of almond, vanilla, and sandalwood filled the air as he approached the bed.
 
“Bhabhi… aap let jaiye. Main aapko massage kar deta hoon,”
“Bhabhi… you lie down. I’ll give you a massage.” he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.
 
Simran shook her head quickly, feeling a rush of shyness.
 
“Nahi Bhola… abhi nahi. Main thak gayi hoon. Baad mein.”
“No Bhola… not now. I’m tired. Later.”
 
Bhola didn’t move. He stood there holding the bowl, looking at her with quiet concern.
 
“Bhabhi… aapke body ko zarurat hai iski. Aapki chuchiyan itni bhari hui rehti hain… doodh se. Massage se blood flow better hoga. Dard kam hoga. Aur aapki hips, thighs, legs — sab tight ho gaye hain. Roz kaam karne se muscles stiff ho jaate hain. Please… let me do it. Aapko comfortable feel hoga.”
“Bhabhi… your body needs this. Your boobs stay so full… with milk. Massage will improve blood flow. The pain will reduce. And your hips, thighs, legs — everything has become tight. Muscles get stiff from working every day. Please… let me do it. You will feel comfortable.”
 
Simran shifted on the bed, pulling her sundress down over her thighs self-consciously.
 
“Bhola… mujhe sharam aa rahi hai. Tum already itna karte ho… ab massage bhi?”
“Bhola… I’m feeling shy. You already do so much… now massage too?”
 
Bhola sat on the edge of the bed, his voice patient and caring.
 
“Bhabhi… yeh sirf madad hai. Aapki chuchiyan itni sensitive hain… doodh se bhari rehti hain. Massage se woh soft rahengi, crack nahi honge. Aur aapki gaand aur taange — woh bhi bahut soft hain lekin andar se tight. Main dheere dheere karunga. Aapko koi takleef nahi hogi. Trust me.”
“Bhabhi… this is just help. Your boobs are so sensitive… they stay full of milk. Massage will keep them soft, they won’t crack. And your ass and legs — they are very soft but tight from inside. I will do it slowly. You won’t feel any discomfort. Trust me.”
 
Simran bit her lip, feeling her resistance weakening. The memory of his hands on her body from previous massages made her stomach flutter.
 
“Phir bhi… abhi nahi. Ravi ghar aane wala hai jaldi.”
“Still… not now. Ravi is about to come home soon.”
 
Bhola smiled gently.
 
“Bhabhi… sirf 20 minute. Aap let jaiye. Main aapke toes se shuru karunga. Bahut relaxing hota hai. Aapki body ko rest milega. Aap itni thak gayi ho… please.”
“Bhabhi… just 20 minutes. You lie down. I’ll start from your toes. It’s very relaxing. Your body will get rest. You are so tired… please.”
 
After a few more minutes of his soft, persistent persuasion — explaining how the oil would help with milk flow, reduce pain in her breasts, loosen her hips and thighs, and prevent any future issues — Simran finally sighed in defeat.
 
“Theek hai… bas 20 minute. Aur dheere karna.”
“Okay… just 20 minutes. And do it slowly.”
 
She lay down on her stomach on the bed, still wearing the yellow sundress that ended high on her thighs. Her heart was beating fast. She knew where this could lead, yet a part of her was also waiting for it. Her breathing was already heavier, her nipples hardening against the fabric.
 
Bhola started slowly, deliberately.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

He sat near her feet and poured a little warm oil on his palms. He began with her toes — massaging each one gently, rolling them between his fingers, pressing the pads with his thumbs. The sensation was electric. Simran let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing despite herself.
 
He moved up to her shins, his strong hands gliding over her smooth skin, kneading the muscles with slow, firm strokes. Every press sent warm tingles up her legs.
 
Then he reached her upper thighs. His hands worked the soft, squishy flesh with deep, deliberate pressure — thumbs circling, palms rubbing upward. The sundress had ridden up dangerously high, almost exposing the lower curve of her ass.
 
Simran’s breathing grew heavier. She buried her face in the pillow, trying to stay calm.
 
Suddenly, Bhola stopped at her thighs. He moved up and sat near her head instead. He poured more oil and started massaging her scalp and forehead with slow, hypnotic circles. His fingers pressed gently into her temples, then moved through her hair, rubbing her scalp in rhythmic motions.
 
Simran’s eyes fluttered closed. She felt dreamy, almost floating.
 
“Palat jaiye, Bhabhi,”
“Turn around, Bhabhi,” he whispered after a few minutes.
 
Almost in a trance, Simran turned onto her back. The sundress shifted, riding even higher on her thighs.
 
Bhola’s hands moved to her neck, massaging the sides and base with firm but gentle pressure. His thumbs worked the tight muscles there, making her sigh softly.
 
After a while, he paused.
 
“Bhabhi… dress utaar do. Iske andar massage mushkil ho raha hai. Oil lagane mein dikkat hogi.”
“Bhabhi… take off your dress. It’s difficult to massage properly with it on. It will be hard to apply oil.”
 
Simran’s eyes opened. She looked at him with a mix of shyness and playful accusation.
 
“Bhola… tum bahut badmash ho. Tum chahte the ki main dress utaar doon aur mujhe sharminda feel kara do, hai na?”
“Bhola… you are naughty. You wanted me to take off my dress and make me feel shameful, didn’t you?”
 
Bhola smiled innocently, but his eyes were dark with desire.
 
“Bhabhi… sirf massage ke liye. Aap comfortable feel karengi.”
“Bhabhi… only for the massage. You will feel comfortable.”
 
Simran hesitated for a long second, then gave in. She sat up slightly and let Bhola help her pull the sundress up and over her head. The thin fabric slid off her body, leaving her completely naked except for her small white panties.
 
She lay back down on her stomach, her heart pounding, her full, round ass and smooth back now completely exposed to him.
 
Bhola poured more oil on his hands and started again — this time on her neck and shoulders, his strong fingers working the muscles with slow, deliberate strokes. The scent of the oil filled the room as his hands glided over her bare skin.
 
Simran closed her eyes, trying to relax, but her body was already humming with anticipation.
 
Bhola’s hands moved like a dream over Simran’s body.
 
She was already slipping into a deep trance, her breathing slow and heavy as his strong, oiled palms glided over her bare back. The fragrant oil — sweet almond blended with vanilla, sandalwood, ylang-ylang, and clary sage — filled the room with a warm, intoxicating scent. His fingers pressed firmly into her shoulder blades, then moved down her spine in long, deliberate strokes, working out every knot with perfect pressure. Simran let out a soft, dreamy sigh, her body melting into the mattress.
 
“Ummmm… Bhola… yeh bahut achha lag raha hai…”
“Ummmm… Bhola… this feels really good…”, she murmured, her voice thick with relaxation.
 
Bhola smiled quietly and continued. He moved down to her feet, pouring more warm oil on his palms. He started massaging her toes one by one, rolling them gently between his fingers, pressing the pads with his thumbs. The sensation was electric. Simran giggled and squirmed as he hit the ticklish spots.
 
“Bhola… hehe… ruk… itna mat kar… tickle ho raha hai…”
“Bhola… hehe… stop… don’t do so much… it’s tickling…”
 
But he didn’t stop. He moved up to her calves, his large hands kneading the plump, milky-white flesh. Her calves were soft yet firm, a perfect blend of femininity and subtle muscle. He worked them thoroughly, thumbs digging in slow circles, making her moan softly into the pillow.
 
Then he reached her thighs.
 
Those milky, soft, squishy thighs — the Gods’ own land. Thick, creamy, and impossibly smooth. Bhola’s fingers sank into the plush flesh, massaging with deep, sensual strokes. He worked the inner thighs slowly, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to her pussy with every upward glide. Simran’s breathing grew heavier, her body starting to respond despite herself.
 
Bhola paused for a moment at the lower curve of her ass. He reached for a pillow, slid his left hand under her flat belly, and gently lifted her hips. He placed the pillow beneath her stomach, raising her plump ass higher into the air. Simran didn’t protest. She stayed silent, her heart racing.
 
He returned behind her and started pressing on her lower back and waist with slow, firm pushes. His hands moved lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of her small white panties. Very slowly, very deliberately, he pulled the thin fabric down until it was nestled just above her ass crack.
 
Simran’s breath hitched.
 
Then, in one swift but smooth motion, Bhola tugged her panties all the way down to her knees, completely exposing her beautiful, milky-white ass and her glistening pussy.
 
Simran suddenly realized what had happened. She had been almost dozing off in pleasure, but now she jolted awake.
 
“Bhola… no!” she cried out, trying to reach back and grab her panties.
“Kya kar rahe ho?!”
“What are you doing?!”
 
But Bhola was stronger. He gently but firmly caught both her wrists and held them for a moment, then pulled the panties completely off her legs and placed them neatly on the side of the bed.
 
“Bhabhi… fikar mat kijiye. Aapke panties oil se kharab ho jayengi. Aap relax rahiye… aapko bahut aaram milega.”
“Bhabhi… don’t worry. Your panties will get ruined by the oil. You just relax… you will feel very comfortable.”
 
Simran’s protests were weak, her voice shaky.
 
“Bhola… yeh galat hai… aaahh…”
“Bhola…this is wrong…. aaahh…”
 
Bhola didn’t reply. He poured more oil on his hands and started massaging her ass globes. Those plump, heart-shaped cheeks were pure heaven — soft like warm dough, yet firm enough to bounce back beautifully with every press. His large palms covered each cheek completely, squeezing, kneading, and spreading them slightly as he worked the oil deep into the flesh. The cheeks jiggled like jelly every time he released them, only to snap back into their perfect, round shape.
 
Simran felt a rush of blood through her entire body. Her pussy was getting wetter by the second.
 
“Bhola… tum bahot badmash ho… aaahhh… yeh kya kar rahe ho… mere peeche haath laga rahe ho…”
“Bhola… you are very naughty… aaahhh… what are you doing… you’re touching my ass…”

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Bhola kept massaging her ass with slow, sensual strokes, his thumbs occasionally brushing dangerously close to her asshole and the wet lips of her pussy.
 
After a few minutes, he spoke softly.
 
“Bhabhi… palat jaiye please.”
“Bhabhi… turn over please.”
 
Simran hesitated for a long second, her body trembling with a mix of shame and arousal. Then, almost against her will, she slowly turned onto her back, completely naked now, her heavy breasts, soft belly, and glistening pussy fully exposed to him.
 
The massage was far from over.
 
Simran lay on her back, completely naked except for the thin white panties that were already soaked. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with her quick breaths, dark nipples stiff and leaking tiny drops of milk. She looked up at Bhola with wide, nervous eyes.
 
“Bhola… no… main nangi hoon… yeh galat hai…”
“Bhola… no… I’m naked… this is wrong…”
 
Bhola’s voice was calm and reassuring, his hands still resting on her thighs.
 
“Bhabhi… chinta mat kijiye. Yeh sirf massage ke liye hai. Aapko comfortable feel hoga. Main kuch galat nahi karunga.”
“Bhabhi… don’t worry. This is only for the massage. You will feel comfortable. I won’t do anything wrong.”
 
Simran’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She covered her breasts with her arms, trying to hide them.
 
“Phir bhi… wada karo … koi naughty cheez nahi karoge. Bas massage… okay?”
“Still… promise me… you won’t do any naughty thing. Only massage… okay?”
 
Bhola didn’t reply with words. Instead, he gently but firmly turned her over onto her stomach again. He slid a pillow under her lower back, raising her abdomen and making her plump ass lift slightly into the air. The position left her completely vulnerable — ass up, legs slightly parted, her soaked panties stretched tight over her pussy.
 
Simran’s breathing grew heavier. She knew where this was heading, yet a dark part of her was waiting for it. Her heart pounded as she felt the cool air on her exposed skin.
 
Bhola poured more warm oil on his palms and started massaging her thighs again. His strong hands kneaded the soft, milky flesh, thumbs pressing deep into the inner thighs. Simran started laughing uncontrollably from the tickling sensation.
 
“Bhola… hehe… ruk… itna mat kar… gudgudi ho raha hai… aaahhh… ruko!”
“Bhola… hehe… stop… don’t do so much… it’s tickling… aaahhh… stop!”
 
She tried to get up, squirming and giggling, but Bhola placed a firm hand on her lower back and gently pushed her back down.
 
“Bhabhi… oil gir jayega. Shaant rahiye… relax…”
“Bhabhi… the oil will spill. Stay calm… relax…”
 
Simran kept laughing, her body shaking, ass jiggling with every movement. Bhola’s hands moved higher, dangerously close to her ass cheeks.
 
“Bhola… please… main nahi kar sakti… haa haa… mujhe gudgudi mat karo!”
“Bhola… please… I can’t… haa haa… stop tickling me!”
 
Bhola smiled and suddenly changed tactic.
 
“Okay Bhabhi… pehle main doodh pee leta hoon phir.”
“Okay Bhabhi… let me drink the milk first then.”
 
He moved up quickly, flipped her onto her back again, and latched onto her left tit. He sucked hard and deep, drawing out thick streams of warm milk with loud, greedy slurps.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhola… no… aise nahi… main nangi hoon… aaahhh… dheere…!”
“Aaahhh… Bhola… no… not like this… I am naked… aaahhh… slowly…!”
 
But Bhola kept sucking, squeezing her breast firmly with one hand while drinking from the other. Milk leaked from the corners of his mouth as he fed hungrily. Simran tried to push his head away, but her strength was fading.
 
“Bhola… please… aaahhh… meri chuchiyan… bahut sensitive hain aaj…”
“Bhola… please… aaahhh… my boobs… are very sensitive today…”
 
Bhola pulled off for a second, mouth full of milk, and kissed her deeply. Simran moaned into the kiss as he pushed the warm milk onto her tongue. Their tongues tangled messily, sharing the sweet liquid in a long, passionate smooch.
 
“Mmmphhh… ummmmm…”
 
He broke the kiss and went back to sucking — this time for a full five minutes, alternating between both breasts, sucking hard and deep, making her moan and squirm. Every now and then he would feed her more milk with another deep, tongue-filled kiss.
 
Finally, he moved back down to her belly. He poured a few drops of oil into her belly button and started massaging it slowly with his thumb, circling the sensitive spot.
 
Simran giggled again, her body twitching.
 
“Bhola… hehe… yeh kya kar rahe ho… tickle ho raha hai…”
“Bhola… hehe… what are you doing… it’s tickling…”
 
Then, without warning, he dripped a few warm drops of oil directly onto her pussy, right over the thin white panties. The oil soaked through the fabric instantly, making it cling even more obscenely to her swollen lips.
 
Simran jumped with a sharp gasp.
 
“Bhola… kya kar rahe ho?! Aaahhh… nahi… wahan mat…”
“Bhola… what are you doing?! Aaahhh… no… not there…”
 
She tried to pull his hand away, but Bhola was stronger. He gently pressed his fingers against her pussy over the panties and started massaging in slow, deliberate circles.
 
Simran’s protests grew weaker.
 
“Bhola… please… aaahhh… yeh galat hai… mat karo wahan…”
“Bhola… please… aaahhh… this is wrong… don’t do it there…”
 
But Bhola had other plans.
 
In one swift motion, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his massive, rock-hard cock, and shoved the thick head straight into her open mouth, muffling her protests completely.
 
“Mmmphhh…!!”
 
Simran’s eyes widened in shock as the fat head stretched her lips wide. Bhola folded his right leg on the bed for balance and started moving his hips slowly, sliding the thick cock in and out of her mouth.
 
Simran moaned around the girth, her hands instinctively gripping his thighs. She started sucking him again, her tongue swirling around the head as Bhola fucked her mouth with slow, deep strokes.
 
The room was once again filled with the wet, filthy sounds of her sucking and his low groans.
 
Bhola’s hands moved lower, gliding over Simran’s soft, oiled belly with slow, deliberate circles. His thumbs pressed gently just above her pubic bone, massaging the sensitive area right before her pussy. Simran’s eyes were closed, her breathing heavy and dreamy. She had Bhola’s thick, rock-hard cock in her mouth, sucking on it lazily like a child with a lollipop — slow, wet, sensual pulls, her tongue swirling around the fat head, tasting the sweet-salty precum that kept leaking onto her tongue.
 
“Ummmm… mmmphhh…” she moaned softly around the girth, her lips stretched wide, cheeks hollowing gently as she nursed on him.
 
Bhola’s fingers traced the inner lines of her thighs, brushing right along the edges of her swollen pussy lips without actually touching them. He could see a thin, translucent string of her slick slowly escaping from between her puffy pink folds, dripping down toward her asshole. The sight made his cock twitch hard in her mouth.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

He swiped his index finger through the leaking juices, collecting the warm, sticky nectar, and brought it to his mouth. He licked it clean with a low, hungry groan.
 
“Mmm… Bhabhi… aapki choot ka ras itna tasty hai… kitna geeli ho rahi ho aap…”
“Mmm… Bhabhi… your pussy juice is so tasty… you’re getting so wet…”
 
Simran’s hips lifted slightly on their own, pushing her pussy upward, exposing her glistening lips even more perfectly. She was dripping, the thin white panties completely soaked and transparent, clinging to every swollen fold.
 
She started sucking his dick like crazy now — head bobbing faster, taking more of the thick shaft into her warm, wet mouth. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room: slurp… gluck… mmmphhh… sluuuurp…
 
Bhola groaned and shifted his position. He moved so that his head was near the edge of the bed, still keeping his cock in her mouth. He positioned himself behind her head, leaning over her so he could reach her breasts easily.
 
Simran kept sucking hungrily, her tongue working the underside of his shaft while her hands stroked what she couldn’t fit in her mouth.
 
Bhola reached down and started massaging her heavy, leaking tits with both hands, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her stiff nipples between his fingers.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhabhi… aapki chuchiyan itni badi aur doodh bhari hain… main inhe din bhar choos sakta hoon…”
“Aaahhh… Bhabhi… your boobs are so big and full of milk… I can suck them the whole day…”
 
Simran moaned loudly around his cock, the vibration traveling down his shaft.
 
“Ummmmphhh… gluck… mmmphhh…”
 
Bhola kept mauling her breasts, pinching and tugging her nipples while she sucked him with wet, sloppy enthusiasm. The room was filled with the obscene sounds of her mouth working his thick lund and his hands squeezing her milky tits.
 
Suddenly, Bhola felt his balls tighten. He had been holding back, but the sight of her sucking him so greedily while he played with her tits pushed him over the edge.
 
He grabbed the base of his cock and started jerking it fast.
 
Within seconds, he exploded.
 
Thick, hot ropes of cum blasted into Simran’s mouth in powerful waves. She moaned loudly, her eyes widening as she tried to swallow the massive load.
 
“Gluck… gluck… ahhhhmmmm… mmmphhh… gluuuuck…”
 
Wave after wave of thick, creamy cum flooded her mouth, filling it completely. Some spilled from the corners of her lips, running down her chin and dripping onto her tits. Simran gulped desperately, swallowing as much as she could, making loud, wet gulping sounds.
 
“Ammmmm… gluck… ahhhhmmmm… mmmphhh…”
 
Bhola groaned deeply, his cock jerking in her mouth as he emptied his heavy balls.
 
When the last powerful spurt finally stopped, Simran slowly pulled her mouth off his cock with a wet *pop*. Thick strings of cum connected her lips to the head. She looked up at him, face messy, lips swollen, eyes glassy with satisfaction.
 
She leaned forward and planted a soft, loving kiss on the sensitive tip.
 
Bhola let his still-hard cock swing freely between his legs, not bothering to tuck it back in. He moved down between her legs, folded her knees up toward her stomach, and spread her thighs wide.
 
Her pussy lips parted beautifully — pink, swollen, dripping wet, the perfect, mesmerizing sight.
 
Bhola leaned down and gave her pussy a deep, open-mouthed smooch, his tongue pressing flat against her swollen folds.
 
Simran squirmed hard, letting out a sharp, surprised moan.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhola…!”
 
The morning was far from over.
 
Bhola slowly pulled his still-hard cock out of Simran’s mouth with a wet *pop*, thick strings of spit and cum connecting her swollen lips to the fat, glistening head. He looked down at her with a mix of satisfaction and lingering hunger.
 
“Bhabhi… abhi kaam bahut hai. Warna main aapko aur bahut mazaa deta… aapki choot ko choos-ta, aapko aur zor se mazaa deta… lekin abhi time nahi hai.”
“Bhabhi… there’s a lot of work right now. Otherwise I would have given you much more pleasure… I would have licked your pussy, given you even stronger orgasms… but there’s no time now.”
 
Simran was still catching her breath, her face messy with his cum, lips puffy and shiny. She looked up at him, voice hoarse and teasing.
 
“Bhola… tune mera muh mein lund kyun daala? Main toh sirf doodh chuswa rahi thi…”
“Bhola… why did you put your cock in my mouth? I was only getting my milk sucked…”
 
Bhola smiled down at her, his thick cock still twitching near her face.
 
“Bhabhi… main jaanta tha aapko pasand aayega. Aapka muh itna garam aur geela tha… aur aap itni pyari lag rahi thi mera lund chooste hue.”
“Bhabhi… I knew you would like it. Your mouth was so hot and wet… and you looked so adorable sucking my cock.”
 
Simran’s cheeks flushed, but she smiled shyly, still tasting him on her tongue.
 
“Haan… mujhe pasand aaya. Bahut pasand aaya.”
“Yes… I liked it. I liked it a lot.”
 
She got up from the bed, completely naked, her heavy breasts swaying, milk still leaking from her dark nipples, her pussy glistening with fresh arousal. She stepped closer to him, reached down, and wrapped her small hand around his thick, semi-hard cock. She gave it a slow stroke, then leaned in and kissed him deeply on the lips.
 
“Bhola… tu itna saara maal kaise produce karta hai? Kitna thick aur kitna zyada tha… main toh bhar gayi thi.”
“Bhola… how do you produce so much maal? It was so thick and so much… I got completely full.”
 
Bhola groaned softly as she stroked him, his cock twitching back to life in her hand.
 
“Aapko pasand hai na Bhabhi?”
“You liked it, right Bhabhi?”
 
Simran kissed the tip of his cock again, licking a fresh drop of precum from the head.
 
“Bahut pasand hai… bahut tasty hai tera maal.”
“I liked it a lot… your maal is very tasty.”
 
Bhola’s voice dropped lower, full of filthy promise.
 
“Toh main aapko roz maal dunga, Bhabhi. Aap jab chahe, main aapke muh mein apna lund daal dunga aur pura maal pilunga.”
“Then I’ll give you maal every day, Bhabhi. Whenever you want, I’ll put my cock in your mouth and feed you all my maal.”
 
Simran smiled, still holding his thick shaft, giving it one last slow stroke.
 
“Theek hai… ab jaa, mujhe nahana hai. Ravi jaldi aane wala hai.”
“Okay… now go, I have to take a bath. Ravi will be here soon.”
 
Bhola picked up her sundress and the small white panty from the floor and started walking toward the door.
 
Simran called after him.
 
“Bhola… yeh kapde kahan le ja rahe ho? Kya mujhe pura din nangi ghumna hai?”
“Bhola… where are you taking these clothes? Do I have to stay naked the whole day?”

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Bhola turned back with a small, naughty smile.
 
“Bhabhi… main inhe dhone ke liye le ja raha tha. Aap nahane ja rahi hain na isliye.”
“Bhabhi… I was taking them to wash. Since you’re going to bathe.”
 
Simran laughed softly, shaking her head.
 
“Haan haan… samajh gayi. Itna smart mat ban. Ab jaa… lekin pehle ek dress nikaal ke bed pe rakh do jo tu mujhe pehenna chahta hai.”
“Yes yes… I understood. Don’t act so smart. Now go… but first take out one dress and keep it on the bed — the one you want me to wear.”
 
Bhola nodded, went to her wardrobe, picked out a very short, light pink sundress that would barely cover the lower curve of her ass, and laid it neatly on the bed. No bra. No panty.
 
Simran smiled inwardly as he left the room.
 
Yeh ladka sach mein pagal ho gaya hai… par mujhe bhi yeh pasand aa raha hai.
 
She went into the bathroom for a quick shower, her mind still racing.
 
Bhola could have fucked me so many times today… but he didn’t even touch my pussy properly. He just ate me like a starving man and made me cum so hard I almost fainted. And that cock… that monster… how does he produce so much cum? It was thick, creamy, endless. He is like a bull — strong, virile, ready to breed. I wonder how he would fuck… would he be gentle or would he pound me like an animal? Would he stretch my pussy so wide I scream?
 
The thought made her pussy throb again under the shower. She touched herself lightly, but stopped, knowing she needed to get ready for Ravi.
 
She came out after the bath, towel wrapped around her body, and saw the short pink sundress waiting on the bed. It was ridiculously short — it would barely cover the lower half of her ass cheeks. No panties. No bra.
 
She smiled to herself, a mix of nervousness and excitement.
 
Toh Bhola chahta hai main aise hi ghoomun? Theek hai… dekhte hain yeh kahan tak jaata hai.
 
She dropped the towel and slipped into the tiny sundress. The thin straps barely held her heavy breasts, the neckline plunging deep between them. The hem ended just below the curve of her ass — one wrong move and everything would be on display. Her nipples poked prominently through the soft fabric.
 
She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like pure sin — a beautiful, curvy, milky wife dressed like a slut in her own house.
 
And she was starting to like it.
 
 
Simran came downstairs wearing the short pink sundress Bhola had chosen for her. The thin fabric clung to her body like a second skin. The hem barely reached the lower curve of her ass cheeks, so every step made the dress ride up dangerously, flashing the smooth, milky-white skin of her thighs and the soft underside of her plump ass. Her heavy breasts swayed freely underneath, the low neckline plunging deep between them, the thin straps barely holding the weight. Her dark nipples poked prominently through the soft material, two stiff points clearly visible. Her long, silky burgundy hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She looked like pure, walking sin — a beautiful, curvy, fertile wife dressed like she was begging to be fucked. The kind of outfit that screamed “crime about to happen.”
 
Bhola was already in the kitchen, focused on preparing both lunch and dinner as usual. He was chopping vegetables, stirring pots, completely absorbed in his work. When Simran entered, he looked up and greeted her with his usual calm, respectful smile.
 
That was it. No lingering stare. No hungry look. No comment on how devastating she looked in that tiny dress. He simply went back to chopping onions, his mind entirely on the food.
 
Simran felt a strange, awkward twist in her stomach. She had chosen this outfit (or rather, let Bhola choose it) expecting some reaction — some sign that he was affected by her, that he wanted her again. But Bhola was acting completely normal, like a dutiful servant doing his job. His thick cock was soft inside his pants, no obvious bulge, no sign of the animal she had seen earlier. The fact that he had picked this dress purely by chance — grabbing the first thing on top because he was in a hurry to get back to his tasks — never crossed her mind. In her head, Bhola had deliberately chosen the shortest, sluttiest dress because he wanted to see her like this, because he was already horny and planning to fuck her.
 
She stood there for a second, feeling oddly disappointed and self-conscious.
 
He’s not even looking… after everything we did yesterday, after I sucked his cock twice and swallowed his cum… he’s just cooking like nothing happened?
 
She broke the silence, trying to sound casual.
 
“Bhola… main cooking kar leti hoon. Tu rest kar le.”
“Bhola… I’ll do the cooking. You take rest.”
 
Bhola nodded without argument.
 
“Ji Bhabhi. Aap kar lo. Main sirf yeh sab cut kar deta hoon.”
“Yes Bhabhi. You do it. I’ll just cut all this.”
 
He stepped aside and let her take over the stove. As she stood in front of the counter, stirring the dal, Bhola moved behind her to reach for something on the shelf. For a brief second, his body brushed against hers, but he didn’t linger. He simply grabbed what he needed and stepped back.
 
A few minutes later, Bhola wiped his hands and said politely,
 
“Bhabhi… main abhi nahane ja raha hoon. Aapko kuch chahiye toh bata dena.”
“Bhabhi… I’m going to take a bath now. Tell me if you need anything.”
 
Simran nodded, her mind still spinning.
 
“Ji… jaao.”
 
Bhola left for the bathroom. Simran stood at the stove, her short sundress riding up slightly as she worked, her bare ass cheeks almost visible. She kept replaying the morning in her head, wondering why Bhola wasn’t reacting to her like she expected. In her mind, he must have been hard, must have wanted to fuck her right there, and that’s why he left so suddenly — to hide his erection.
 
In reality, Bhola was simply doing his chores. His mind was focused on the tasks at hand — cooking, cleaning, preparing for Ravi’s return. He was like a robot when he worked: single-minded, efficient, and completely unaware of the storm of thoughts and desires swirling inside Simran.
 
Fifteen minutes later, Bhola came back, freshly bathed and changed into clean clothes. He walked into the kitchen and saw Simran still at the stove.
 
“Bhabhi… aapne sab kar liya? Main madad karun?”
“Bhabhi… have you done everything? Shall I help?”
 
Simran turned to look at him, her heart skipping slightly at the sight of his clean, fresh face. She smiled softly, trying to hide the whirlwind inside her.
 
“Haan….”
 
Bhola nodded and sat down quietly, waiting for lunch to be served.
 
The house felt normal on the surface.
 
But underneath, Simran’s mind was anything but calm.
 
Bhola came back downstairs after his bath, his hair still damp and glistening, a few drops of water sliding down the side of his neck. He had dressed neatly in a simple white T-shirt that hugged his strong chest and shoulders, and a pair of clean black trousers. He looked fresh, composed, and dutiful — the perfect servant, ready for the day ahead.
 
Simran’s heart skipped when she saw him. The way the damp fabric clung to his body, the way his broad shoulders filled the T-shirt, the way his trousers sat low on his hips… she felt an instant, powerful urge to jump on him right there in the kitchen. To pull him close, to feel that thick, heavy cock against her again, to drop to her knees and take him back into her mouth. Her pussy clenched at the thought, a fresh wave of wetness soaking into her tiny panties under the short sundress.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

But Bhola had no idea.
 
He moved around the kitchen with calm efficiency, checking the dal on the stove, tasting the chicken, stirring the sabzi — completely focused on his work. He didn’t glance at her ass, didn’t stare at the way her heavy breasts strained against the thin sundress, didn’t notice how the short hem barely covered the lower curve of her plump ass cheeks. He was simply doing his job, like always.
 
This specific quality of Bhola — his single-minded simplicity, his ability to switch from animalistic hunger to calm duty in the blink of an eye — was something Simran was only beginning to sense. She didn’t fully understand it yet. To her, it felt like he could turn it on and off at will, like he was in complete control while she was losing hers. It made her feel both safe and strangely frustrated.
 
As luck would have it, Bhola did notice her beautiful ass for a brief moment. The short pink sundress had ridden up slightly as she stood at the counter, the soft fabric taut over her round, heart-shaped cheeks. If he had knelt down, he would have had a clear view of her naked pussy and ass underneath — no panties, just smooth, milky-white skin and the glistening pink lips of her pussy. But he didn’t look. He didn’t linger. Such was the simplicity of Bhola. His mind was on the food, on the tasks, on serving her properly. He wasn’t hunting for opportunities to fuck her. He was simply there, ready if she asked.
 
He finished stirring the dal and turned to her politely.
 
“Bhabhi… kya aapko kuch aur chahiye? Main kuch aur bana dun?”
“Bhabhi… do you need anything else? Shall I make something more?”
 
Simran shook her head, trying to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.
 
“Unnhunn… bas yahi theek hai.”
“Unnhunn… this is fine.”
 
Bhola nodded once, gave her a small, respectful smile, and went back to his work without another word.
 
Simran stood there, spoon in hand, feeling the weight of her own desires pressing down on her. She was dressed like a slut in her own kitchen, her body screaming for attention, and Bhola was calmly cooking lunch like it was any other day.
 
The contrast was driving her crazy.
 
Simran was standing near the kitchen counter, absentmindedly stirring the dal, when she heard Bhola’s phone ringing from his small room at the back of the house. The ringtone was simple and loud, cutting through the quiet morning air. Bhola quickly wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to his room to answer it.
 
Simran continued her work, but after a couple of minutes, she noticed he hadn’t come back. Five minutes passed. Then ten. The dal was ready, but Bhola still hadn’t returned. She felt a small knot of confusion in her stomach. What’s taking him so long? she thought. Is everything okay?
 
Finally, after almost twelve minutes, Bhola emerged from his room. His eyes were red and teary, his face pale and shaken. He looked completely different from the calm, composed man who had been cooking just minutes ago.
 
Simran’s heart dropped. She immediately stepped toward him.
 
“Bhola… kya hua? Sab theek hai?”
“Bhola… what happened? Is everything okay?”
 
Bhola’s voice cracked as he spoke, trying to hold back tears.
 
“Bhabhi… mera bhai Jai ne call kiya tha. Mere Baba ko achanak heart attack aaya hai. Abhi unhe hospital le ja rahe hain… City Care Nursing Home. Doctor ne kaha critical hai.”
“Bhabhi… my brother Jai called. My father had a sudden heart attack. They are taking him to the hospital right now… City Care Nursing Home. The doctor said it’s critical.”
 
Simran’s face softened with genuine concern. She reached out and gently held both his hands.
 
“Yeh bahut badi baat hai. Unhe kahan le ja rahe hain exactly? City Care Nursing Home… woh Sector 22 mein hai na?”
“This is a very serious matter. Where exactly are they taking him? City Care Nursing Home… it’s in Sector 22, right?”
 
Bhola nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
 
“Haan Bhabhi… wahi. Par family ne kaha hai abhi aane ki zarurat nahi hai. Unhone mujhe ghar bhejne ko kaha hai. Komal Bhabhi akeli hai ghar pe ek guest ke saath. Unhe madad ki zarurat pad sakti hai.”
“Yes Bhabhi… that one. But the family said there’s no need to come right now. They asked me to go home. Komal Bhabhi is alone at home with a guest. She might need help.”
 
Simran squeezed his hands tighter, her voice kind but firm.
 
“Bhola, tum abhi hospital jaao. Papa ko dekh lo pehle. Phir ghar jaana. Komal Bhabhi ko bhi bata dena. Family ko akela mat chhodo is waqt.”
“Bhola, you go to the hospital right now. See Papa first. Then go home. Tell Komal Bhabhi also. Don’t leave the family alone at this time.”
 
Bhola looked at her gratefully, though his eyes were still wet.
 
“Ji Bhabhi… main abhi jaata hoon.”
“Yes Bhabhi… I’m going right now.”
 
Simran nodded.
 
“Jao abhi. Time waste mat karo. Savdhani se chalana.”
“Go now. Don’t waste time. Drive safely.”
 
Bhola quickly grabbed his helmet and keys. His old Splendor bike was parked outside. Within the next five minutes, he had changed into a clean shirt, taken some money from his room, and was ready to leave. He gave Simran one last respectful nod before starting the bike and riding off.
 
The sound of the engine faded down the street, and the house suddenly felt empty — quieter than it had in a long time.
 
Simran stood at the doorway for a few moments, watching the empty driveway. The silence pressed in on her. She felt strangely alone, even though she had been craving some space from Bhola just an hour ago. The house, usually filled with his quiet presence, now seemed too big, too still.
 
She went upstairs slowly and sat down on the edge of her bed. Her mind drifted to Bhola’s father — an old man she had never met, now fighting for his life in a middle-class nursing home. She felt a pang of sympathy for Bhola, for his family, for the suddenness of it all.
 
Then a practical thought hit her.
 
I should tell Ravi.
 
She picked up her phone from the bedside table and dialed Ravi’s number. The call rang… and rang… but there was no reply. It went to voicemail and she left a msg.
 
Simran stared at the screen for a long moment, the weight of the empty house settling around her.
 
Simran sat on the edge of her bed after Bhola left, the house now completely silent except for the distant hum of the ceiling fan. She stared at her phone for a long moment, wondering if Ravi was busy in a meeting or still on the road. The quiet felt heavier than usual. She stood up and walked to the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door.
 
The reflection staring back at her made her breath catch.
 
She was dripping with sex.
 
The short pink sundress Bhola had chosen for her clung to her body like it was painted on. The thin fabric stretched across her heavy, full breasts, her dark nipples clearly visible as stiff peaks pushing against the material. The low neckline plunged deep between her cleavage, showing the soft, creamy inner curves. The hem barely covered the lower half of her ass — one slight bend and everything would be on display. Her thick, pear-shaped ass looked even rounder and more inviting in the short dress, the fabric hugging the full, jiggling globes. Her long, milky-white thighs were completely exposed, smooth and soft, leading up to the hidden heat between her legs.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Her face was still flushed from the morning’s activities, lips slightly swollen from sucking Bhola’s cock, hair messy and wild. She looked like a woman who had just been thoroughly used — a beautiful, fertile wife dressed like a slut in her own home.
 
Shame washed over her in a hot wave.
 
Look at yourself… what have you become? On one hand you’re the loving wife who cooked breakfast for Ravi every morning, who waited for him every night. On the other hand… you were on your knees in Bhola’s room, sucking his huge cock like a desperate whore, swallowing his thick cum while your husband was on his way home. You were about to give yourself completely to your servant… just because of that cock. That monster between his legs.
 
Her stomach twisted with embarrassment, but at the same time, a deep, dark tingle ran through her pussy. She pressed her thighs together, feeling the wetness still there from earlier.
 
The phone rang, snapping her out of the trance. It was Ravi calling back.
 
Simran answered quickly, trying to sound normal.
 
“Hello, Ravi.”
 
“Hey, baby. Sorry, I was in the car. What happened? You said Bhola’s father had a heart attack?”
 
Simran explained everything Bhola had told her — the sudden call, the hospital, the family asking him to go home to help Komal Bhabhi with the guest.
 
Ravi listened quietly, then sighed.
 
“Poor Bhola. Tell him to take as much time as he needs. Family comes first. I’ll manage with cabs for a few days if needed. But Simran… I have to go to Korea day after tomorrow for a week. I’m worried about you staying alone in the house. Let me think about it and we’ll figure something out when I get home tonight.”
 
Simran felt a small pang of guilt at the concern in his voice.
 
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You focus on your work.”
 
They exchanged a few more loving words before ending the call.
 
Simran placed the phone on the bed and looked at herself in the mirror again. The shame was still there, but so was the heat. She couldn’t stop herself. She picked up the phone, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and opened the hidden folder.
 
The first photo loaded.
 
There it was — her own face, beautiful and flushed, mouth stretched obscenely wide around Bhola’s enormous, dark cock. The thick shaft disappeared between her lips, her eyes looking up with pure lust, spit and precum dripping down her chin onto her heavy breasts. The contrast was breathtaking: her milky-white skin against the veiny, dark monster. She looked like a sex goddess made for sucking cock.
 
Her adrenaline surged. Goosebumps exploded across her arms and thighs. The fine hair on her body stood on end. Her pussy clenched hard, a fresh gush of wetness soaking into her panties.
 
She quickly edited the photo to blur her eyes for safety, made a copy, and sent it to Preeti with no caption. Preeti had been messaging her nonstop since yesterday, begging for details about Bhola’s dick.
 
Even during the call with Ravi earlier, Preeti had sent a gif of a huge black cock being sucked, followed by a string of fire emojis.
 
Preeti replied almost instantly.
 
Preeti: O M G
 
Then another message popped up immediately.
 
Preeti: Open a bottle of whiskey. Reaching in 5.
 
Simran stared at the messages, her heart racing, a strange mix of fear and excitement flooding her body.
 
The secrets were multiplying.
 
Simran sat alone in the living room for a long time after Bhola left, her mind spinning. She kept replaying everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours — the intense blowjobs, the way Bhola had eaten her pussy like a starving man, the massive load of thick cum he had pumped into her mouth, and the filthy video he had secretly recorded on her phone. A part of her felt deeply ashamed, but another part of her felt strangely alive and hungry for more.
 
She needed someone to tell her that what she was feeling wasn’t completely wrong. And the only person she could talk to about this was Preeti.
 
Time passed in a blur. Before she knew it, the calling bell rang.
 
Simran opened the door to find Preeti standing there with a mischievous grin. The moment their eyes met, Preeti stepped inside and pulled Simran into a tight, excited hug, almost lifting her off the ground.
 
“You bastard!” Preeti laughed into her ear, squeezing her tightly. “You actually sent me that photo. I almost dropped my phone.”
 
Simran pulled back, half-shocked and half-amused by the abuse.
 
“Preeti! What the hell—”
 
But Preeti was already grinning like a devil. She grabbed Simran’s hand and pulled her upstairs toward the balcony without waiting for an invitation.
 
They settled into the chairs on the covered balcony. The evening sun was beginning to set, casting a golden-orange glow across the sky. Preeti immediately opened her phone and brought up the photo Simran had sent her — the one where Simran’s lips were stretched wide around Bhola’s massive, dark cock, cum already starting to leak from the corners of her mouth.
 
Preeti stared at it for a long second, then turned to Simran with wide eyes.
 
“Simmu…” she said, her voice low and full of filthy admiration. “You look so fucking sexy in this. So hot. I can’t believe this is you. Your face… your eyes… the way your lips are wrapped around that monster. God, you look like you were born to suck cock.”
 
Simran felt her face burn, but she couldn’t deny the twisted thrill that ran through her at Preeti’s words. She remembered Bhola saying almost the exact same thing while she was sucking him.
 
“Bhabhi aap kitni sundar lag rahi ho…”
“Bhabhi you are looking so beautiful…”
 
Preeti took a sip of her gin tonic and leaned forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity and lust.
 
“Tell me everything. Does it taste that good? How much cum does he actually produce? Did he fuck you already? How the hell did you even take all of that in your mouth? I need it too, Simmu. Please. I’m serious. I need that cock. Please, please, please…”
 
Simran quickly raised her hand to stop her.
 
“Preeti, stop. Hold your horses. We didn’t do anything else yet… other than…”
 
Preeti finished the sentence for her with a wicked smile.
 
“…other than you sucking his huge cock like a desperate slut.”
 
Simran bit her lip and nodded, her voice dropping lower.
 
“Yeah… that. And he produces a lot, Preeti. I mean… a fucking lot. The first time, it was already thick and heavy. But the second time? It was like he hadn’t cum in weeks. Thick, creamy ropes kept shooting into my mouth. I was swallowing as fast as I could but it still overflowed. It was running down my chin, dripping onto my tits… I felt so full. And the taste…” She paused, her cheeks flushing deeper. “It was strong. Salty, a little sweet, and so fucking thick. I could feel it coating my throat even after I swallowed.”

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Preeti’s eyes were wide, her breathing slightly heavier.
 
“Fuck… and you swallowed it? Both times?”
 
Simran nodded slowly.
 
“I tried to drink every drop. He kept cumming and cumming. I’ve never seen a man shoot that much. And the way it felt in my mouth… so heavy, so warm. I felt like such a dirty whore… but I liked it, Preeti. I really liked it.”
 
Preeti stared at her friend for a long moment, then took a big sip of her drink.
 
“Jesus Christ, Simran. You’re telling me this guy has a monster cock, shoots cum like a fucking horse, and you’ve already swallowed two loads from him… and you still haven’t let him fuck you yet?”
 
Simran looked away, her voice soft but honest.
 
“I’m scared. He’s too big. And… things are already moving so fast. I don’t know what’s happening to me anymore.”
 
Preeti reached across and squeezed her hand, her voice turning softer but still filled with filthy excitement.
 
“I get it. But Simmu… if his cock looks like that and he cums like that… I need it too. I’m not even joking. I want to feel that thing stretching me open. I want to see how much cum he can actually pump inside a pussy.”
 
Simran didn’t reply. She just took another sip of her drink, staring out at the setting sun, her mind spinning with everything that had happened — and everything that might still happen.
 
The secrets between them were growing heavier by the minute.
 
Simran sat quietly, swirling the gin in her glass. Preeti leaned back in her chair, studying her friend’s face for a few seconds before speaking again.
 
“I know I’m being selfish here,” Preeti said honestly. “But who wouldn’t be? That man is a walking sex god, Simmu. That cock… fuck. I saw the photo. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s not just big — it’s *obscene*. Thick, veiny, and the way it was stretching your mouth… I’m telling you, very few women get to experience something like that in their lifetime.”
 
She took a sip and continued.
 
“But listen to me carefully. Don’t even think about telling Ravi. Not now. Not ever. He won’t understand. I stand corrected — there is actually nothing to understand. He will not accept even what has already happened. You sucking Bhola’s cock, swallowing his cum, letting him eat your pussy… Ravi will lose his mind if he ever finds out. It’s very, very risky.”
 
Simran looked at her, confused.
 
“But you said he will understand…”
 
Preeti shook her head.
 
“I was being too casual earlier. The truth is, no husband will accept this easily. Especially not when the other man has a cock like that. It’s not just cheating — it’s humiliation for him. So if you want to continue this… whatever this is… you have to be extremely careful. Don’t tell him. Ever.”
 
Simran stayed quiet for a few seconds, then Preeti again spoke in a low voice.
 
“Why don’t you make him your Bull?”
 
Simran raised an eyebrow and immediately got defensive.
 
“My what? I am not an animal, Preeti.”
 
Preeti laughed softly and shook her head.
 
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m saying… why don’t you use him to get pregnant? Like I’m planning to. Why don’t you let Bhola fuck you raw and knock you up?”
 
Simran’s eyes widened.
 
“It’s more complicated than that, Preeti.”
 
“Why complicated?” Preeti asked, genuinely curious.
 
Simran almost shouted, her voice filled with frustration and raw honesty.
 
“Because deep down, I want to keep him for myself for as long as possible! And…”
 
Her words trailed off. She couldn’t finish the sentence.
 
Preeti completed it for her, her voice calm but direct.
 
“…Pregnancy would mean no more sex. At least not for a long time.”
 
Simran looked away, embarrassed that Preeti had read her so clearly.
 
Preeti leaned forward again.
 
“In that case, have sex as long as possible. Enjoy that cock while you can. Fuck him. Suck him. Let him fill you up whenever you want. I would never tell anyone, you know that, right? Your secret is safe with me. So don’t worry about that.”
 
She paused, then added in a lower, filthier tone.
 
“Simmu… that dick is too good to waste. If I were in your place, I would be riding it every single day until I couldn’t walk straight. You have a golden opportunity sitting right in your house. A young, strong, hung man who’s already obsessed with you. Don’t throw it away just because you’re scared.”
 
Simran stayed quiet, staring into her glass. Preeti’s words were sinking in — dangerous, tempting, and filthy.
 
The sun had almost set, and the balcony was slowly getting darker.
 
Preeti’s phone rang suddenly while they were still sitting on the balcony. She glanced at the screen, and her expression changed immediately.
 
“I have to go,” she said, getting up quickly. “Some emergency at the hospital. One of my patients has gone into early labour.”
 
Simran stood up as well. “Everything okay?”
 
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call you later,” Preeti replied, already moving toward the stairs. She gave Simran a quick hug at the door. “Take care of yourself, okay? And think about what I said.”
 
After Preeti left, the house felt strangely quiet. Simran stood in the living room for a while, feeling the weight of everything that had happened in the last two days. Her body was tired, but her mind was restless. She decided to take a warm shower.
 
The hot water helped. She stood under the shower for a long time, letting it wash over her skin, washing away the dried traces of Bhola’s cum from her breasts and the lingering scent of sex from her body. By the time she came out, wrapped in a towel, her eyes were heavy. She didn’t even bother wearing anything fancy — just a loose old T-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. She fell onto the bed and was asleep within minutes.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Ravi came home much later than usual, around 9 PM. Simran was still asleep when she heard the main door open. She woke up groggily and came downstairs to find him removing his shoes.
 
“You’re late today,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
 
Ravi looked tired. He walked up to her and gave her a quick hug.
 
“Yeah… had a long day. I need to talk to you about something.”
 
They sat in the living room. Ravi didn’t waste time.
 
“I have to go out of the country tomorrow,” he said. “The Bangalore project has moved faster than expected. They want me to go to Korea for a few days to understand their system before we start work in India. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
 
Simran sat up straighter. “Tomorrow? For how long?”
 
“Just a couple of days. Maximum four or five. I’ll try to wrap it up quickly.”
 
She frowned, clearly worried. “But… you just came back from Bangalore. And now suddenly Korea?”
 
“I know,” Ravi sighed. “It’s sudden. But this is a big project, Simran. I have to go.”
 
There was a short silence before Ravi spoke again.
 
“Listen… since I’ll be away, why don’t you go to your sister’s place in Bangalore for a few days? You’ll have company, and I won’t have to worry about you staying alone in the house.”
 
Simran shook her head immediately.
 
“No, it’s fine. I’ll manage here. Bhola will be back tomorrow morning anyway. He said he’ll return after checking on his father.”
 
Ravi looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to argue, but then nodded.
 
“Okay… if you’re sure. Just be careful. And call me if you need anything.”
 
They had a quiet dinner together. Ravi looked exhausted, and Simran didn’t push him for more details. After dinner, they went upstairs. Ravi changed and fell asleep quickly, clearly drained from the day.
 
Simran lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
 
 
The next morning, Ravi woke up early and packed a small suitcase. He moved quietly around the room while Simran sat on the bed, watching him. By 9 AM, he was ready to leave.
 
He kissed her on the forehead.
 
“Take care of yourself. I’ll call you once I reach Korea. And don’t hesitate to call Bhola if you need anything, okay?”
 
Simran nodded. “Safe travels. Text me when you land.”
 
After Ravi left, the house once again felt empty. Simran had her breakfast alone and then went to the small garden at the back of the house. She needed some fresh air. She was watering the plants and pulling out a few weeds when she suddenly heard the front door open.
 
The sound made her pause.
 
She stood still for a second, listening. The gate had opened, and someone had stepped inside.
 
Simran slowly put down the watering can and turned toward the house, wondering who it could be.
 
Simran had just stepped out of the bedroom, still wearing the short, loose nightie from the previous night. The thin fabric barely reached the top of her thighs, and without a bra, her heavy breasts swayed freely underneath, the dark outlines of her nipples clearly visible. She had kept on a small white panty, but the rest of her body was barely covered. She looked like pure temptation — a beautiful, curvy wife dressed for sin in her own home.
 
She was heading toward the bathroom when the doorbell rang.
 
Her heart jumped. She walked to the door and opened it.
 
Bhola stood there, bag in hand, his clothes slightly dusty from the journey. The moment their eyes met, a flash of lightning lit up the sky behind him, followed by a low rumble of thunder.
 
Without a single word, Bhola dropped his bag on the floor, stepped inside, and kicked the door shut behind him. In one powerful motion, he grabbed Simran by the waist and lifted her clean off the ground. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, straddling him as he pushed her back against the wall.
 
Their mouths crashed together in a hungry, desperate kiss. It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, filthy, and full of pent-up need. Tongues slid deep, sucking and licking, spit mixing messily as they devoured each other like they had been starving for days.
 
“Mmmphhh… ummmmm…” Simran moaned into his mouth, her hands gripping the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
 
Bhola broke the kiss only for a second, growling against her lips.
 
“Bhabhi… main bahut miss kar raha tha aapko… aapki chuchiyan… aapka muh… sab kuch…”
“Bhabhi… I was missing you so much… your boobs… your mouth… everything…”
 
Then he kissed her again, harder, his tongue fucking her mouth while his hands roamed over her body.
 
He couldn’t wait.
 
With one rough pull, he yanked the thin straps of her nightie down her shoulders. The fabric tore slightly at the seams as he tugged it down to her waist, freeing her heavy, milk-filled breasts. They bounced out, full and soft, nipples already stiff and leaking.
 
Bhola latched onto her right tit like a starving animal. He sucked hard and deep, taking a large portion of the soft flesh into his mouth. Milk jetted against his tongue in thick, warm streams.
 
“Aaahhhhh… Bhola…!” Simran cried out, her head falling back against the wall, her legs tightening around his waist.
 
He was sucking like a man possessed — loud, greedy, animalistic pulls that made wet, obscene slurping sounds echo in the hallway. Milk leaked from the corners of his mouth, running down his chin and dripping onto her stomach and the front of his shirt.
 
It had not even been 24 hours since he had left, but the moment he walked back in, he was ravishing her like he had been denied for weeks.
 
Simran’s hands gripped his hair, pulling him harder against her breast.
 
“Choos le… pi le mera doodh… aaahhh… itna zor se mat… meri chuchiyan… aaahhh… Bhola… tu pagal ho gaya hai…”
“Suck… drink my milk… aaahhh… not so hard… my boobs… aaahhh… Bhola… you have gone mad…”
 
Bhola switched to the left tit, sucking even harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive nipple. Milk sprayed across his face as he drank from her like he was addicted. His hands squeezed both breasts roughly, milking them downward, forcing more milk to flow.
 
Simran was moaning nonstop, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, grinding her soaked panty against the hard bulge in his pants.
 
She leaned down and started kissing his face — his forehead, his cheeks, his lips — tasting her own milk on his skin while he continued to devour her tits.
 
“Ummmm… Bhola… tu mera doodh pi raha hai jaise bhookha ho… aaahhh… choos le… pi le sab… meri chuchiyan teri hain aaj…”
 
Bhola growled against her breast, sucking harder, his face now completely covered in her milk. He was lost in her — in the softness, in the taste, in the way her body responded to him.
 
Simran’s head fell back again, her moans growing louder as he kept sucking like a man who had been denied for years.
 
The front door was barely closed, and already the house was filled with the filthy, wet sounds of Bhola drinking from his married Bhabhi’s tits while she moaned like a whore in his arms.
 
And neither of them wanted to stop.
 
Bhola didn’t even give Simran time to think.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

The moment the front door clicked shut, he lifted her higher in his arms, her legs locked tightly around his waist, and started walking toward his room at the back of the house. All the while, his mouth stayed glued to her right tit, sucking with raw, animalistic hunger.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhola… dheere… aaahhh… tu kitna zor se choos raha hai…
“Aaahhh… Bhola… slow… aaahhh… you’re sucking so fucking hard…” Simran moaned, her head falling back, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
 
He was drinking from her like a man who had been denied for years. Loud, wet, greedy slurps filled the hallway as thick streams of warm milk jetted into his mouth. He swallowed noisily, but still more overflowed, running down his chin and soaking the front of his shirt.
 
“Ummmm… gluck… slurp… mmmphhh…” The filthy sounds echoed as he walked, never once letting go of her nipple.
“Ummmm… Bhola… you’re drinking my milk like you’re starving… aaahhh… suck… drink it all… my boobs are yours today…”
 
Simran’s moans grew louder, more broken.
 
“Aaahhh… fuck… Bhola… meri chuchiyan… aaahhh… itna zor se mat chooso… aaahhh… main mar jaungi… ummmm… aaahhh… choos le… pi le sab doodh… meri badi-badi chuchiyan teri hain aaj…”
“Aaahhh… fuck… Bhola… my boobs… aaahhh… don’t suck so hard… aaahhh… I’ll die… ummmmm… aaahhh… suck… drink all the milk… my big-big boobs are yours today…”
 
Bhola switched to her left tit without missing a step, latching on even harder. His teeth grazed the sensitive nipple, making her cry out. His strong hands were mauling her plump, soft ass the entire time — kneading the heavy, jiggly flesh like warm dough, fingers spreading her ass cheeks, squeezing hard enough to leave faint red marks. Every step made her ass bounce in his palms, the thin fabric of her panties wedged deep between her cheeks, rubbing against her soaked pussy.
 
“Uffff… Bhabhi… aapki gaand itni soft aur moti hai… main isko din bhar masalta reh sakta hoon… itni garam aur juicy… aaahhh…”
“Uffff… Bhabhi… your ass is so soft and thick… I can keep pressing it the whole day… so hot and juicy… aaahhh…”, he growled against her breast, his voice muffled and filthy.
 
Simran whimpered, grinding her dripping cunt against his hard abs as he carried her.
 
“Bhola… aaahhh… you’re so rough today… aaahhh… meri gaand ko itna zor se dabate ho… aaahhh… meri panty geeli ho rahi hai… aaahhh…”
“Bhola… aaahhh… you’re so rough today… aaahhh… pressing my ass so hard… aaahhh… my panty is getting wet… aaahhh…”
 
He reached his room, half-closed the door behind them with his foot, and finally lowered her onto his bed. But he didn’t stop sucking. He climbed over her, switching between her breasts with savage need — sucking one hard while mauling the other with his hand, pinching and tugging the nipple, making milk spray across his face and her chest.
 
Simran’s moans were continuous now, loud and shameless.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhola… choos le… pi le mera doodh… aaahhh… itna zor se… aaahhh… meri nipple phaad dega kya aaj… ummmmm… aaahhh… dono ko ek saath choos… aaahhh… meri chuchiyan teri hain… pi le sab… aaahhh… Bhola… tu mera doodh pi raha hai jaise bhookha ho… aaahhh… choos le zor se… meri badi-badi chuchiyan kha ja…”
“Aaahhh… Bhola… suck… drink my milk… aaahhh… so hard… aaahhh… are you going to tear my nipple today… ummmmm… aaahhh… suck both together… aaahhh… my boobs are yours… drink it all… aaahhh… Bhola… you’re drinking my milk like you’re starving… aaahhh… suck hard… eat my big-big boobs…”
 
 
Bhola growled like a beast against her soft flesh, sucking harder, his face now completely covered in her milk. His hands never stopped kneading her ass, spreading her cheeks, fingers brushing against her soaked panties and the heat of her dripping pussy.
 
Simran’s legs stayed locked around his waist, her hips grinding desperately against him, her voice breaking into filthy, needy moans as he devoured her tits like they belonged only to him.
 
The room was thick with the wet, obscene sounds of sucking, the slap of flesh, and Simran’s loud, broken cries of pleasure.
 
And Bhola had no intention of stopping anytime soon. He was lost in her — in the softness of her breasts, in the sweet taste of her milk, in the way her body trembled and begged for more under his mouth and hands.
 
Bhola lowered Simran onto his bed but only for a few seconds. His eyes were dark with lust. He grabbed the torn nightie still bunched around her waist and yanked it down her legs roughly, throwing it aside. Now she was completely naked except for her mangalsutra and the tiny white panty that barely covered her pussy.
 
The moment Bhola saw her like that — lying on his bed, heavy milk-filled tits rising and falling with her heavy breathing, the thin gold mangalsutra resting between her deep cleavage, and that small, flimsy panty clinging to her cunt — something snapped inside him.
 
His cock throbbed violently inside his pants.
 
He became mad.
 
Without wasting a second, he hooked both his thumbs into the waistband of her tiny panty and pulled it down in one rough, impatient motion. The fabric stretched and almost tore at the seams as he yanked it off her legs. Simran’s smooth, plump pussy came into view — swollen, pink, and already glistening.
 
“Bhola… wait… aaahhh…” Simran tried to say something, her voice shaky, but Bhola wasn’t listening.
 
He quickly opened his pants and pulled out his thick, hard monster cock. It sprang out angrily — dark, veiny, and already leaking thick precum from the fat bulbous head. Before Simran could finish her sentence, he climbed over her, straddled her chest, and shoved his cock straight into her open mouth.
 
Simran’s eyes widened for a second, but her mouth opened automatically, welcoming the thick rod like it belonged there. The heavy, warm head stretched her lips wide as it slid inside. She immediately started sucking on the huge bulb, her tongue swirling around the leaking slit, tasting his salty precum.
 
“Mmmphhh… gluck… ummmm…” she moaned around his cock, her hands reaching up to grab his heavy balls. She squeezed them gently at first, then firmer, feeling how full and tight they were.
 
Bhola groaned loudly above her.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhabhi… aapka muh… itna garam aur geela hai… aaahhh…”
“Aaahhh… Bhabhi… your mouth… is so hot and wet… aaahhh…”
 
He didn’t stay still for long. He leaned forward, pushing more of his thick cock into her mouth, and at the same time buried his face between her spread thighs.
 
The moment his tongue touched her pussy, he lost control.
 
Her cunt was already soaked. Thick, white, creamy juices coated her pink folds — evidence of how turned on she had been since morning. Bhola started slurping her pussy like a thirsty tiger drinking from a lake. Loud, wet, obscene sounds filled the room as he licked and sucked her swollen lips, drinking her juices noisily.
 
“Slurrrrp… gluck… mmmphhh… slurrrrp…”
 
Simran’s entire body jerked. She moaned loudly around his cock, the sound muffled and broken.
 
“Mmmphhh… aaahhh… Bhola… aaahhh… meri choot… aaahhh… itna zor se mat chooso… aaahhh… mmmphhh…”
“Mmmphhh… aaahhh… Bhola… aaahhh… my pussy… aaahhh… don’t suck so hard… aaahhh… mmmphhh…”
 
Her pussy was dripping. Every time Bhola’s tongue dragged through her folds, more of her thick white cream mixed with his spit and leaked down toward her ass. He was eating her like a man possessed — sucking her clit, pushing his tongue deep inside her hole, and slurping loudly like he wanted to drink every drop of her juice.