Bhola lay flat on his back in the centre of the bed, kurta damp from the rain he’d run through earlier. Simran straddled him on all fours—knees planted on either side of his hips, palms braced beside his shoulders, her body arched above him like an offering. The black lace panties clung transparently to her swollen pussy lips, the strings digging into her hips as her lush, heart-shaped ass hovered high behind her, cheeks spread slightly by the position, the deep cleft glistening with her arousal.
Her huge, mango-shaped breasts hung down directly over his face—heavy, pendulous, swaying gently with every trembling breath. The left one leaked steadily, warm milk dripping in slow, creamy beads onto his chest; the right—still swollen and blocked—jutted forward, nipple dark pink and erect, begging for attention.
Bhola held the honey-coated ice cube between his fingers, bringing it slowly to her right nipple.
The first touch was shock-cold—ice kissing the hot, sensitive peak.
“Aaahhh!” Simran gasped sharply, body jerking, breasts jiggling wildly as goosebumps exploded across her skin.
Before she could recover, Bhola leaned up—mouth closing over the chilled nipple, tongue warm and wet, licking in slow, deliberate circles.
The contrast was devastating—cold melting into heat, ice into fire. An electric shock ripped through her entire body—nipple to clit in one blazing line. She shivered violently, back arching, a broken “Aaaahhh… ohhh…” spilling from her lips.
He applied the ice again—pressing it firmly, circling the areola—then licked once more, tongue flicking rapidly over the hardened peak. The nipple protruded impossibly now—thick, stiff, throbbing under his attention, milk finally beading at the tip.
He played with it shamelessly—ice… lick… ice… lick—alternating cold and warm, watching the nipple darken and swell further, her body trembling above him. He was also flickering the nipple to increase blood flow and that had its own tornado spinning.
Simran gripped the bedsheets tightly—knuckles white, moans rising in desperate gasps:
“Aaahhh… aaahhh… Bhola… aaaahhh…” Simran was waiting for the inevitable now, her goosebumps were real now and was concentrating below her navel area, but Bhola just didn’t let her anticipate the moment.
Without warning, this time he took the right nipple fully into his mouth—sucking hard, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing as he drew with steady, insistent pulls.
The sensation shattered her.
Simran ground down involuntarily—one hard, desperate rub of her soaked pussy against the rigid bulge in his pants—and orgasmed instantly.
“AAAAHHHH… OH GOD…… aaaahhh!”
Her cry was raw, body convulsing as she squirted through the lace, hot fluid soaking them both. She shivered uncontrollably—thighs clamping around his waist like a vice, nails digging into the mattress, breasts jiggling wildly above his face.
A massive thunderclap exploded outside—shaking the house, rattling the windows—perfectly timed with her climax. Bhola thought the shivering was from the storm, not the orgasm ripping through her.
He held her steady—one strong hand splayed across her bare back, the other cupping her right breast, squeezing firmly to draw the milk as he continued suckling.
The combination—heavenly, forbidden—should have ended him long ago, but he drank deeply, milk finally flowing from the once-blocked nipple in warm, creamy streams.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)