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

[ashuezy2]

Scene 8

I left Babuji's room, but the heat didn't leave me. My body felt charged, buzzing from what we just did. My cheeks were red. I looked down—my blouse was still loose, hooked wrong, so the top of my white bra and the swell of my breasts were peeking out.

I didn't fix it. I liked it. I felt sexy. I felt bad in the best way possible. I felt free. For the first time, I owned my wants.

I walked down the hallway, my thighs slippery with my own wetness rubbing together with every step. It made me shiver with need, a sweet ache between my legs. I didn't want to clean up. I wanted to stay messy. I wanted them to smell the sex on me, see me undone and alive.

I stopped by the table. A plan formed in my hot head. I took my old Nokia phone and called my new touch phone. I accepted the call on the touch phone. I left the touch phone there on the table downstairs, the call running, recording everything. I took the small, active Nokia with me. It was my microphone now.

I heard laughs drifting down from the terrace—Lokesh's deep, relaxed chuckle and Riya's easy, tinkling giggle. I climbed a few stairs and peeked up.

They were standing close by the boundary wall. The morning sun hit Riya’s short hair, making it look like shiny gold. She was wearing that loose t-shirt again, and I knew instantly she had no bra on underneath. Her nipples were hard dots poking right through the fabric, like they were begging for lips. Lokesh's hand was low on her back.

They were drinking chai, talking boring office stuff—deadlines, Gurgaon parties. Riya threw her head back laughing, and her tits bounced freely under the shirt. It stung my gut for a second, that old jealousy. But it wasn't sad anymore. It was hot. It felt like fuel.

I didn't fear her body or his eyes anymore. Fuck their secret game. I was going to play mine, right out loud. I started climbing slowly, making sure my silver anklets jingled loudly—chhan-chhan—like a sexy alarm bell.
I stepped onto the bright terrace with my head held high. I let my pallu slip a little more, showing off the deep curve of my ample cleavage pushed up by the tight bra.
Lokesh looked over, shocked. His hand jumped off Riya’s back like a guilty collegeboy. "Sonalika?" he stammered. "Is... is breakfast ready?"

I skipped his boring question. I locked eyes with him—dark, caught, and guilty. I smiled slow and naughty. I walked right up to him, my hips swaying extra hard. My pussy pulsed with the thrill of it. Riya watched me, her smile dropping, her eyes getting sharp.

"Oh, breakfast can wait, my husband," I said, my voice soft and husky, dropping an octave.
I didn't care she was standing right there. I wanted her to hear. It felt incredibly hot, like freeing my dirty side right out in the sunlight. My pussy got wetter just thinking about the words coming out of my mouth.

I stopped inches from him. I could smell his shaving cream mixed with her flowery perfume. I raised my hand and ran one finger slowly down his chest, right over his shirt buttons.
"I've been thinking about you all morning, Lokesh," I purred. "Thinking about last weekend... remember? When you had me bent over the kitchen table? You were fucking me so hard from behind, slamming into me while babuji and maa-ji were sleeping."

His eyes went wide. His whole face turned bright red, matching mine. Riya froze, her cup halfway to her lips.

I didn't stop. I kept going, my hand sliding low, right down to his belt buckle. "Remember what you said? You grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and called me your 'dirty little wife'... you said my tight pussy gripped your cock so hard, like it never wanted to let go."
I leaned in closer, whispering loudly. "God, I came so hard that night, screaming your name into the table. Want to do that again? Right now? Here on the terrace? I can feel how wet I am just saying it to you."

Lokesh stuttered, looking at Riya like a scared animal trapped in headlights. "S-Sonalika, what the—? Stop it. Not now, with... guests here."

I laughed, light and teasing. I leaned in and bit his earlobe quickly, letting my hot breath hit his neck. "Guests? Oh, Riya doesn't mind, do you, sweetie? She's seen you like this before in Gurgaon, hasn't she? All stiff and ready to go."

I turned to face Riya. I felt bold and mean-fun. My body was buzzing with adrenaline. "Tell him, Riya. Tell my husband how you like it when he talks dirty too. Or wait... should I show him how much I missed him?"

I dropped my voice to a filthy whisper, looking straight at Lokesh's crotch. "Should I drop to my knees right here, Lokesh? Unzip your pants, take your big cock out, and suck it like the good wife I am? I could swallow every single drop right here while she watches. Would you like that?"

Riya's mouth opened, then closed. Her red lips looked shocked, but her eyes flickered dark with something else. A blush climbed her neck. Lokesh pulled away from my hand, mumbling angrily. "Stop it! Sonalika, you're acting crazy!"

But I wasn't crazy. I was burning—hot, wild, the terrace air thick with the smell of sex and their weird, guilty heat. "Crazy? No, my love. Just horny for my man."
I winked at Riya—playful, bad, and knowing. Then I stepped back, fixing my pallu casually like nothing happened. "Fine. Breakfast it is. But don't keep me waiting too long downstairs... or I'll start touching myself without you."

I turned around to leave. As I did, I bent over slowly, deliberately sticking my ass out in their direction. While they stared at my hips, I quickly tucked the active Nokia phone behind the water pipes just inches away from them.

I walked down the stairs, my heart beating fast, feeling my pussy dripping juice onto my inner thigh. I could feel their stares burning my back—Lokesh's mixed horny and lost look, Riya's envy and maybe want. It was hot as hell, spilling our dirty secrets like wet fun right under the morning sun. And now, my little phone was listening to everything they said next.