Simran was still leaning against the kitchen wall when Bhola finally stepped out of the back corridor. He had changed into a simple light-grey kurta and a pair of dark pants — nothing fancy, just neat and fresh. But something about the way the kurta fit across his broad shoulders and chest made her stomach flutter. His hair was quickly combed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and there was a faint, clean scent of soap on him. Yesterday he had been her servant, the helpful village boy who drank from her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Today, after everything he had done to her — after emptying her completely and giving her orgasm after orgasm — he suddenly looked… handsome. Really handsome. Strong. Reliable. And dangerously attractive.
She felt a fresh rush of heat between her legs just looking at him.
Bhola gave her a small, respectful smile.
“Room ready hai, Bhabhi. Chaliye.”
("The room is ready, Bhabhi. Let's go.")
Without saying anything more, Simran pushed herself off the wall and walked ahead of him toward his room. The thin blue nightie brushed against her bare thighs with every step, her heavy breasts swaying heavily under the damp fabric, nipples rubbing against the cotton and sending little sparks through her body. She could feel his eyes on her back, and that only made her thong feel even wetter.
She stepped into his small room and stopped for a second, genuinely surprised. He had worked fast. The narrow bed was neatly made with a clean white sheet tucked tightly at the corners. The old pillow was fluffed and placed perfectly. The small fan on the wall was already spinning at full speed, circulating the air. A steel glass of water sat on the side stool, and even the floor looked freshly swept. It smelled faintly of him — that warm, masculine scent mixed with a touch of the honey-oil he had used on her yesterday.
"Bahut accha hai," she said softly, turning to him. "Tune sach mein bahut saaf-suthra kar diya. Thank you."
“It’s nice”, she said softly, turning to him. “You made it really tidy. Thank you.”
Bhola closed the door behind them and slid the bolt shut with a quiet click. The sound sent a thrill through her — they were locked in now. Safe. Hidden.
Simran sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. The nightie rode up her thighs, exposing more of her smooth, thick legs and the tiny black strings of her thong disappearing between them. Her breasts felt even heavier sitting like this, milk leaking steadily and making the front of the nightie cling transparently to her dark, stiff nipples.
Her mind was racing with urgency.
We have to be quick. Ravi is right upstairs. If he wakes up and doesn’t find me in bed… if he comes down and sees the living room empty… God, what if he hears something? I can’t let him catch his wife getting her boobs sucked dry by the servant in the servant’s room. This has to be fast. Efficient. No long teasing today.
She looked up at Bhola, who was standing politely a few feet away, waiting for instructions.
"Bhola… humein yeh jaldi karna hai lekin bilkul sahi tarike se. Mujhe koi dard nahi rehna chahiye. Bata mujhe kaunsi position sabse achhi hogi taaki tu dono taraf ko poori tarah aur jaldi khali kar sake."
(“Bhola… we need to do this quickly but properly. I don’t want any pain left. Tell me which position will be best so you can empty both sides completely and fast.”)
He scratched the back of his neck, thinking innocently.
“Bhabhi, aap let jaao bed pe, main side mein baith ke dono taraf se kar sakta hoon. Ya aap pehle wali tarah baitho aur main aage se…”
("Bhabhi, you lie down on the bed, I can sit on the side and do both from there. Or you sit like last time and I do it from the front...")
Simran shook her head.
"Nehi, usse time lagega. Aur mujhe baar baar baithna padega. Peeth dard karne lagegi."
(“No, that will take time. And I’ll have to keep sitting up. My back will hurt.” )
She paused, biting her lip as another cramp rolled through her belly.
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