Simran felt her face burn. She knew they were leaking, could feel the slow, steady drip rolling down the curves, but hearing him say it out loud while his mouth was inches away made her want to disappear into the mattress.
Before she could answer, Bhola lifted one hand and gently cupped her right breast from underneath, just supporting the weight. The moment his warm palm made contact and lifted it even slightly, a thick stream of milk squirted out in a quick, forceful arc, splashing onto his chin and neck.
Simran gasped sharply, "Aaaaahhhhh!"
Bhola didn't hesitate. He leaned up fast and sealed his lips around the dark, swollen nipple, taking almost half the areola into his mouth in one go. Then he gave one long, hard, deep suck.
The pull was instant and powerful. Milk flooded his mouth in a thick gush, so much so fast that his cheeks bulged for a second before he swallowed with a loud gulp. Simran's whole body jerked, back arching off the wall, thighs trembling around his head. The relief hit her like a drug, sharp and sweet, but so did the filthy wet sound of him drinking her.
He finally released the nipple with a soft, wet pop, a thin string of milk still connecting his lower lip to the glistening peak. He looked up at her, chin and throat shiny, eyes calm but intense.
"Bhabhi, aapne pehle kyun nahi bataya? Yeh toh bahut zyada tapak rahe hain. Itna pressure hai dono mein. Par chinta mat karo. Main abhi poora khali kar doonga. Zor zor se chusunga, dheere dheere bhi, jo bhi zaroorat hogi. Aap bas relax karo. Main ache se karunga, bilkul khatam kar ke chhodunga."
("Bhabhi, why didn't you tell me earlier? These are leaking so much. There's so much pressure in both of them. But don't worry. I'll empty them completely right now. I'll suck hard, and slow too, whatever is needed. You just relax. I'll do it properly, finish every last drop.")
His voice was low, earnest, almost clinical, like he was explaining how to milk a cow properly. But every word he said about her tits — how full they were, how much they were leaking, how he was going to suck them hard until they were empty — made Simran die inside with shame. Her cheeks were flaming, ears burning. She couldn't look at him. She just stared at the wall above his head, biting her lip so hard it hurt, while fresh heat kept pooling between her legs.
Bhola wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued in that same calm, filthy-innocent tone.
"Aur kyunki dono taraf se itna zyada aa raha hai, toh abhi ek taraf se poora nahi peeyunga warna muh bhar jayega aur bahar gir jayega. Main abhi dono taraf se badal badal ke peeyunga. Thoda is taraf se, thoda us taraf se. Is tarah pressure kam hoga aur aapko bhi araam milega bina jaldi jaldi ke."
("And because it's coming out so much from both sides, I won't drink from just one fully right now, otherwise my mouth will fill up and it'll spill out. I'll alternate between both sides now. A little from this one, a little from that one. This way the pressure will ease up slowly and you'll feel relieved without any rush.")
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