But the devil had already taken the wheel again.
Simran’s thighs trembled. She could picture it so clearly — stepping into that small, simple room that always smelled faintly of him, closing the door, hearing the click of the latch. She could sit on the edge of his narrow bed, pull her nightie up, and let him kneel or even lie beside her. There would be no rush. No fear of sudden footsteps on the stairs. She could let him take his time, suck slowly, drain her completely while she held his head to her chest.
Her pussy gave a hard, needy throb at the thought. Another small cramp rolled through her lower belly, and she had to bite her lip to stop a soft moan from escaping.
It’s perfect, the devil whispered. Private. Safe. And deep down you know you want to be in his space… on his bed… where no one else goes.
Simran’s hand tightened between her legs. Her breath was coming in shallow little pants now. The guilty voice had almost gone silent, reduced to a faint, distant whisper she could barely hear anymore.
She was going to do it.
She just needed to call him.
Simran stood up from the sofa. She walked the few steps to the kitchen doorway and leaned against the frame, voice low but firm.
"Bhola."
He turned instantly, wiping his hands on the small towel he always kept tucked into his waistband. His eyes flicked to her chest for half a second before dropping respectfully to the floor.
"Ji, Bhabhi?"
“Ravi so raha hai. Gehri neend mein… wo kafi der tak nehi uthenge.”
("Ravi is sleeping. Really sleeping. He won't wake up for a long time." )
She swallowed, feeling the heat crawl up her neck.
“Lekin, mujhse aur nehi ruka ja raha hai. Dard ho raha hai. Mujhe tumhari zarurat hai…madad ke liye. Abhi”
("But I can't wait anymore. It's hurting bad again. I need you to... help me. Right now.")
Bhola's ears turned pink. He nodded slowly, but didn't move.
Simran took one step closer, lowering her voice even more.
“Yahan nehi. Bahar wale room mein bhi nehi. Ravi aa sakta hai niche. Tumhare room mein chalte hai. Wo peeche bhi hai aur darwaza bhi lock hota hai. Koi kuch sune ga bhi nehi.”
("Not here. Not in the living room. Ravi might come down the stairs. Let's go to your room. It's at the back. Door locks. No one will hear anything.")
Bhola's eyes widened a little. He looked genuinely surprised.
"Meri room mein, Bhabhi? Wahan... aapko comfortable nahi hoga. Bed chhota hai, mattress purana hai, garmi bhi zyada lagti hai wahan. Aap yahin sofa pe baith jao, main curtain band kar deta hoon. Ya kitchen mein bhi theek hai. Meri room thodi... gandi lagti hogi aapko."
("In my room, Bhabhi? You won't be comfortable there. The bed is small, the mattress is old, and it's too hot there. You sit here on the sofa, I'll close the curtains. Or the kitchen is fine too. You might find my room a bit... dirty.")
Simran shook her head quickly. The ache in her breasts was turning sharp now, and every second she stood here arguing made her pussy throb harder. She could feel fresh wetness sliding down her inner thigh.
"No, Bhola. Mujhe privacy chahiye. Poori tarah ki privacy. Tera kamra perfect hai. Chhota, band, sabse door. Main bed par hi theek rahungi. Purana hai ya chhota hai, mujhe koi farak nahi padta. Bas mujhe let jana hai aur tujhe... woh karne dena hai jo tune kal kiya tha. Please."
("No, Bhola. I want privacy. Proper privacy. Your room is perfect. Small, closed, away from everything. I'll be fine on the bed. I don't care if it's old or small. I just need to lie down and let you... do what you did yesterday. Please.")
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking torn.
"Lekin Bhabhi, wahan fan bhi dheema chalta hai. Aur smell bhi aati hai kabhi kabhi... main roz saaf karta hoon par phir bhi. Aapko takleef hogi."
("But Bhabhi, the fan there runs really slow. And sometimes there's this smell too... I clean it every day, still it happens. You'll feel uncomfortable.")
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