Me(Sonalika) - How I love my Father in law(3 Videos) - Scene 9 - Gold*

[ashuezy2]

Scene 7

My blood was boiling. Seeing Lokesh with Riya, seeing her fancy clothes and his eager face... it hurt. But then the hurt turned into something else. 

I went to the kitchen. I didn't make breakfast for them. I made tea, only one cup. Just for Babuji. While the water boiled, I looked down at my blouse. I felt wild. My hands moved to the hooks of the blouse. Click. Click. Click. I opened them, leaving just the last one at the bottom holding the fabric together. My cleavage was deep, open, waiting. I adjusted my sari pallu so it barely covered anything. I picked up the cup. I walked towards the back room.

I pushed the door open with my hip. Babuji was lying on the bed, newspaper in hand, waiting. He looked up. His eyes didn't go to the tea. They went straight to the gap in my blouse.

He dropped the newspaper. His eyes got big, hungry, and happy.
"Oh God... what have you brought, bahu?" he whispered, his voice thick. "Did you bring tea... or your soft breasts to feed me? Look... only one button left. Are you saying, 'Babuji, suck it now.'"

I smiled. I put the tea on the small bedside table. I stepped closer, swaying my hips just a little, letting him see the heavy swing of my chest inside the open cloth.

"Tea first, Babuji," I teased. "Medicine later. And... this? This is just for you. My dear babuji."

He laughed, a deep, low sound that vibrated in the room. He patted the empty space on the mattress near his hip. "Come close, babu. Feed me the tea... and open this button too. Or Babuji's heart will beat too fast looking at it. See, down there it is standing up already... because of you." I glanced at his lap. The sheet was tented up. He was hard. For me. I laughed too, soft and fun. I climbed onto the bed, crawling on my knees. I didn't sit beside him; I straddled his legs, sitting lightly on his thighs, hovering over him.

I held the tea cup to his mouth. "Drink," I whispered. He drank slowly, his eyes never leaving my chest. His hand came up. It touched the side of my open blouse, pushing the fabric back. His rough thumb rubbed the top of my creamy breast. It felt warm. My body got hot between my legs instantly.

He finished the tea. A drop stayed on his lip. "Mmm... hot and sweet, just like you," he licked his lip. "Now tell... what happened this morning? That girl outside... Lokesh's new love?"

I put the empty cup down. My hands went to his shoulders, gripping his kurta. I leaned down so the soft flesh of my breasts brushed against his chest. The last button pulled tight, straining.

"Yes, Babuji," I said, my voice shaking with the thrill of it. "She... she got naked in front of me in the guest room. Her breasts... perfect, tight, like movie stars. And me? I am just this village girl to them. But what do you think? Aren't your bahu's big, big boobs... worth sucking?"

His face got serious. The playfulness turned into pure hunger. "You fool..." he growled. "She is plastic. She is nothing. You... you are home milk. Look... so juicy, so full. Let Babuji suck one... just one, promise."

He didn't wait. His hand snapped the last button open. My blouse fell open completely. My bra was already loose. He shoved his hand under the cup and lifted my bare breast out. He squeezed it hard, his thumb flicking my hard nipple.

I moaned. "Babuji..." He pulled my blouse down off my arms. He buried his face in my chest. He inhaled deep, smelling me like a starving animal. "Your smell... intoxicating," he mumbled against my skin. "Now this nipple... already hard from waiting."

His mouth clamped onto my nipple. He sucked hard. Wet, loud, desperate noises filled the room. His tongue swirled around the sensitive skin, teasing, biting gently. I threw my head back, my hands grabbing his grey hair. "Yes... yes..."

I ground my hips down into his lap. I could feel his thick, hard cock pushing against my wet panties through his pajamas. "Babuji... yes... suck harder. Your cock... I can feel it. Can I... take it in my hand?"



He groaned into my breast, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. He moved to the other nipple, attacking it with the same hunger. His free hand went down. He lifted my petticoat. His fingers found the wet patch on my panties. He slipped inside, finding my wetness. "Take it, bahu..." he gasped between sucks. "Hold it and squeeze. Babuji's cock stands only for you... put it inside too, if you want."

My hand went to his pajama string. I pulled it open. His cock sprang out—thick, dark, and fully hard. I grabbed it. It was hot and throbbing in my hand. I pumped it slow, feeling the veins, rubbing the tip with my thumb.

We played like this for what felt like hours—his mouth feasting on my breasts, sucking the milk of my revenge, while my hand pleasured him, owning him. The house made small sounds outside. I heard Riya’s laugh from the living room. Let them laugh. Lokesh and Riya could have their fake fun. I had this. I had the raw, dirty heat of Babuji's mouth and his strong hands. He didn't want plastic; he wanted me.

When we were done, flushed and panting, I kissed his forehead. I hooked my blouse back up, hiding the red marks he left on my skin. I climbed off the bed. My hair was messy, my lips swollen, my sari crushed. I walked back to the kitchen. I was smiling. I felt light. Babuji was mine now, and that was the sweetest secret of all.