02-01-2026, 12:54 PM
Her words shattered the last of Sumu’s restraint. The acknowledgment that she chose him—here, now, in the flesh—over the loyalty she owed his cousin tore away his willpower. He released her wrists and grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he prepared to claim what she had just offered.Shweta lifted her chin, straining upward to reach his lips, a silent plea for a kiss to ground her as the reality of her decision settled in. Sumu met her halfway, but there was no gentleness in him now. He crashed his mouth against hers, sealing her lips with a bruising intensity. They moaned into each other’s mouths, the wet, sloppy sound of their tongues battling for dominance filling the silence of the room. It was a raw, primal exchange, tasting of forbidden desire.
While her senses were consumed by the crushing weight of his kiss, Sumu positioned himself. He poised his thick, rigid cock at her entrance, the head pressing against her slick, wet heat. With a sudden, decisive flex of his hips, he gave a final, brutal thrust, driving the final nail into the coffin of his brother's marriage.
He split Shweta open. Her scream of shock and overwhelming sensation was instantly muffled by their locked lips—*mmmmmhhhhhhhh*—vibrating against Sumu’s mouth as he buried his dick into her to the hilt. He filled her completely, stretching her in a way Ani never had, claiming the space that was supposed to be sacred to his cousin.
Sumu broke the kiss, gasping for air, his eyes wild as he looked down at her flushed face. "You feel so good, Shweta," he panted, his voice thick with lust. "So tight. It’s been waiting for me, right?"
Shweta couldn't speak, her chest heaving as her body adjusted to his impressive size. Instinctively, she squeezed her inner muscles around him, gripping his length in a wet, rhythmic embrace as if in agreement. She was breathless, her mind spinning, but her body had already chosen its master.
"Don't..." she managed to whimper, her eyes fluttering open to look at him. "Don't wait, Borda."
That was all Sumu needed. He let go of her hands, which had been pinned above her head. Immediately, Shweta reached out, her fingers desperate as they wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to her.
He began to move.
He pulled back almost all the way before driving forward again. His hips slammed into hers with a jarring force, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the room. Shweta groaned with each guttural thrust Sumu gave her, her head thrashing against the pillow. The friction was electric, a stark contrast to the gentle, predictable lovemaking she was used to upstairs.
Sumu propped himself up on his hands, his triceps straining as he loomed over her. He grabbed her hips, his large fingers digging into her soft skin, and spread her legs a little wider, opening her completely to his assault. He kept thrusting into her, a relentless piston of muscle and desire.
Shweta wasn't just enduring it; she was craving it. Her hands slid down from his waist to grab his firm ass, her nails digging in, pulling him deeper with each motion, urging him to grind his pelvis against hers. With every violent impact, her large breasts shook, dancing hypnotically with their rhythm.
Looking down at her, seeing her writhing beneath him, Sumu felt like a conqueror. The knowledge that he was nailing his beloved brother’s wife into his own mattress—stealing the one thing Ani prided himself on—made him more aggressive. The taboo fueled him, turning his lust into something dark and possessive.
Shweta met his thrusts with equal fervor, lifting her hips to accept every inch of him. The guilt was gone, replaced by pure, blinding sensation.
"Ohhh... Borda..." she moaned in pleasure, her head thrown back, exposing her throat. "You are going so deep..."The air in the room grew heavy, thick with the scent of musk and the raw, uninhibited symphony of their union. The silence of the house was shattered, not by words, but by the wet, visceral slap of flesh against flesh as their hips collided with bruising force. Every thrust was accompanied by the slick, squelching sound of Sumu’s manhood driving relentlessly into Shweta’s soaking wet heat, a rhythm that seemed to sync with the low, constant hum of the air conditioner.
It was a mesmerizing, almost trance-like atmosphere. The room was filled with the sharp, rhythmic clinking of Shweta’s silver anklets and the *sankha pola*—the red and white bangles of her marriage—striking against each other and Sumu’s skin. The irony was palpable; the very symbols of her vows to Ani now provided the soundtrack to her infidelity, chiming musically with every inch of Sumu she took. Sumu’s guttural grunts mixed with Shweta’s breathless, high-pitched whimpers, creating a haze of lust that felt dreamlike, suspended in a reality where only pleasure mattered.
Driven by a hunger that went beyond simple friction, Sumu strained upward, his head bending to seek the heavy sway of her breasts. He latched onto one nipple with voracious intensity, his mouth hot and wet as he sucked hard. His teeth grazed the sensitive, hardened peak, nipping it just enough to send a jolt of electric shock through her nerves, while his large hand roughly kneaded the other breast, squeezing the soft flesh possessively.
"Ahhh! Yes, Dada... yes!" Shweta cried out, her back arching off the mattress, her chest thrusting into his mouth as waves of pleasure crashed over her.
Sumu didn't let the rhythm falter. With a sudden growl of determination, he clamped his strong hands around her narrow waist. In one fluid, powerful motion, he engaged his core and flipped them, rolling onto his back and pulling Shweta with him.
She gasped, disoriented for a split second as gravity shifted, but they never broke contact. As she settled on top of him, the change in angle drove him impossibly deeper, hitting a spot that made her toes curl. Shweta found herself straddling his hips, her knees sinking into the mattress, with the immense, forbidden length of her brother-in-law buried to the hilt inside her womb.
The surprise on her face melted instantly into a look of heavy-lidded intoxication. She didn't pull away; instead, she ground down, testing the fullness of him, feeling the thick ridge of him stretching her in ways Ani never had. She leaned forward, placing her palms on the pillow on either side of his head to steady herself. As she lowered her face to his, her long, dark hair cascaded forward, creating a silken tent that curtained their faces from the rest of the world, locking them into a private, sinful universe where nothing existed but his eyes and the feel of him inside her.A dark, venomous smile curled at the corner of Shweta’s mouth, a sharp contrast to the innocent, lonely housewife she had been just hours ago. Under the tent of her hair, in the heavy, musk-filled air of the room, she looked down at him not with guilt, but with a sudden, wanton boldness.
While her senses were consumed by the crushing weight of his kiss, Sumu positioned himself. He poised his thick, rigid cock at her entrance, the head pressing against her slick, wet heat. With a sudden, decisive flex of his hips, he gave a final, brutal thrust, driving the final nail into the coffin of his brother's marriage.
He split Shweta open. Her scream of shock and overwhelming sensation was instantly muffled by their locked lips—*mmmmmhhhhhhhh*—vibrating against Sumu’s mouth as he buried his dick into her to the hilt. He filled her completely, stretching her in a way Ani never had, claiming the space that was supposed to be sacred to his cousin.
Sumu broke the kiss, gasping for air, his eyes wild as he looked down at her flushed face. "You feel so good, Shweta," he panted, his voice thick with lust. "So tight. It’s been waiting for me, right?"
Shweta couldn't speak, her chest heaving as her body adjusted to his impressive size. Instinctively, she squeezed her inner muscles around him, gripping his length in a wet, rhythmic embrace as if in agreement. She was breathless, her mind spinning, but her body had already chosen its master.
"Don't..." she managed to whimper, her eyes fluttering open to look at him. "Don't wait, Borda."
That was all Sumu needed. He let go of her hands, which had been pinned above her head. Immediately, Shweta reached out, her fingers desperate as they wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to her.
He began to move.
He pulled back almost all the way before driving forward again. His hips slammed into hers with a jarring force, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the room. Shweta groaned with each guttural thrust Sumu gave her, her head thrashing against the pillow. The friction was electric, a stark contrast to the gentle, predictable lovemaking she was used to upstairs.
Sumu propped himself up on his hands, his triceps straining as he loomed over her. He grabbed her hips, his large fingers digging into her soft skin, and spread her legs a little wider, opening her completely to his assault. He kept thrusting into her, a relentless piston of muscle and desire.
Shweta wasn't just enduring it; she was craving it. Her hands slid down from his waist to grab his firm ass, her nails digging in, pulling him deeper with each motion, urging him to grind his pelvis against hers. With every violent impact, her large breasts shook, dancing hypnotically with their rhythm.
Looking down at her, seeing her writhing beneath him, Sumu felt like a conqueror. The knowledge that he was nailing his beloved brother’s wife into his own mattress—stealing the one thing Ani prided himself on—made him more aggressive. The taboo fueled him, turning his lust into something dark and possessive.
Shweta met his thrusts with equal fervor, lifting her hips to accept every inch of him. The guilt was gone, replaced by pure, blinding sensation.
"Ohhh... Borda..." she moaned in pleasure, her head thrown back, exposing her throat. "You are going so deep..."The air in the room grew heavy, thick with the scent of musk and the raw, uninhibited symphony of their union. The silence of the house was shattered, not by words, but by the wet, visceral slap of flesh against flesh as their hips collided with bruising force. Every thrust was accompanied by the slick, squelching sound of Sumu’s manhood driving relentlessly into Shweta’s soaking wet heat, a rhythm that seemed to sync with the low, constant hum of the air conditioner.
It was a mesmerizing, almost trance-like atmosphere. The room was filled with the sharp, rhythmic clinking of Shweta’s silver anklets and the *sankha pola*—the red and white bangles of her marriage—striking against each other and Sumu’s skin. The irony was palpable; the very symbols of her vows to Ani now provided the soundtrack to her infidelity, chiming musically with every inch of Sumu she took. Sumu’s guttural grunts mixed with Shweta’s breathless, high-pitched whimpers, creating a haze of lust that felt dreamlike, suspended in a reality where only pleasure mattered.
Driven by a hunger that went beyond simple friction, Sumu strained upward, his head bending to seek the heavy sway of her breasts. He latched onto one nipple with voracious intensity, his mouth hot and wet as he sucked hard. His teeth grazed the sensitive, hardened peak, nipping it just enough to send a jolt of electric shock through her nerves, while his large hand roughly kneaded the other breast, squeezing the soft flesh possessively.
"Ahhh! Yes, Dada... yes!" Shweta cried out, her back arching off the mattress, her chest thrusting into his mouth as waves of pleasure crashed over her.
Sumu didn't let the rhythm falter. With a sudden growl of determination, he clamped his strong hands around her narrow waist. In one fluid, powerful motion, he engaged his core and flipped them, rolling onto his back and pulling Shweta with him.
She gasped, disoriented for a split second as gravity shifted, but they never broke contact. As she settled on top of him, the change in angle drove him impossibly deeper, hitting a spot that made her toes curl. Shweta found herself straddling his hips, her knees sinking into the mattress, with the immense, forbidden length of her brother-in-law buried to the hilt inside her womb.
The surprise on her face melted instantly into a look of heavy-lidded intoxication. She didn't pull away; instead, she ground down, testing the fullness of him, feeling the thick ridge of him stretching her in ways Ani never had. She leaned forward, placing her palms on the pillow on either side of his head to steady herself. As she lowered her face to his, her long, dark hair cascaded forward, creating a silken tent that curtained their faces from the rest of the world, locking them into a private, sinful universe where nothing existed but his eyes and the feel of him inside her.A dark, venomous smile curled at the corner of Shweta’s mouth, a sharp contrast to the innocent, lonely housewife she had been just hours ago. Under the tent of her hair, in the heavy, musk-filled air of the room, she looked down at him not with guilt, but with a sudden, wanton boldness.
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