Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Her hips twitched forward involuntarily every few seconds, grinding the soaked scrap of her thong against nothing, chasing the ache that kept building low in her belly. Milk kept leaking from both nipples even when his mouth wasn't on them, dripping steadily down the curves of her breasts, pooling on her stomach, sliding toward the waistband of the bunched-up nightie.
 
Bhola's kurta was getting soaked at the collar and chest, dark wet patches spreading, but he didn't seem to notice. He just kept sucking, alternating, squeezing, gulping, letting it spill, completely lost in the task of draining her.
 
Simran's muffled cries grew higher, more frantic, her body shaking with every hard pull. She was trying so hard to stay quiet, trying so hard to keep control, but the way he was devouring her tits, the wet sounds, the feeling of being emptied so thoroughly while he spilled her milk everywhere, was pushing her right to the edge again.
 
She was going to come like this.
 
Just from his mouth on her, his hands squeezing, his face buried between her leaking breasts. 
 
And she couldn't even scream when it happened.
 
Bhola had already drained half the milk from both her heavy tanks, but the pressure was still there, stubborn and insistent. Simran tried to sit up a little straighter, wanting to take some of the strain off her back. The moment she shifted, Bhola's hands came up fast. He grabbed both breasts firmly, fingers sinking into the soft, warm flesh, and pulled them down toward his mouth like he was claiming them.
 
His lips latched onto her right nipple again, sucking hard while his hands kept tugging, stretching the swollen globe toward him. The sight was obscene and beautiful at the same time: a grown man, strong and broad-shouldered, lying with his head in her lap, squeezing and pulling the massive, milk-filled tits of this ultra-beautiful Punjaban woman like they belonged to him. Her breasts looked even bigger in his grip, the skin stretched shiny and tight, dark nipples disappearing completely into his hungry mouth one after the other.
 
He pulled harder now, not just with his lips but with his whole hands, kneading the undersides roughly while he dragged the heavy mounds down so he could take more of them in. Milk kept jetting out in thick bursts every time he sucked, some of it spilling past his lips no matter how fast he swallowed. Simran's back arched involuntarily, a long, trembling gasp ripping out of her throat.
 
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh..."
 
She clamped her right hand tighter over her mouth, muffling the sound just in time. Her left hand stayed buried in his hair, fingers gripping hard, not sure if she was trying to hold him there or steady herself. Every hard pull on her tits sent a fresh shockwave straight to her clit, making her thighs quiver around his ears.
 
Bhola switched to the left one without warning, yanking that breast down too, squeezing it so tight that a powerful spurt hit the back of his throat. He gulped noisily, cheeks working, milk still leaking from the corners of his mouth and running in white rivulets down his jaw, dripping onto her bare belly. He was relentless, pulling and sucking like he wanted to empty her in record time, his big hands milking her the way he had probably milked cows back in the village, only these were soft, feminine, overflowing with sweet cream that belonged to her.
 
Simran turned her head to the right, trying to catch her breath, trying to focus on anything except the filthy wet sounds filling the room. That's when she saw it.
 
Between Bhola's legs, hidden but impossible to ignore, the monster was standing straight up like a flagpole under his pants. The dark fabric was stretched so tight it looked ready to split. The thick, long outline was unmistakable: a rigid, upward-curving shaft that rose high, the swollen head clearly defined even through the material, pressing hard against the waistband. It throbbed visibly with every heartbeat, a slow, heavy pulse that made the entire front of his pants tent obscenely. You could have tied a flag to that thing and marched it through the streets. The sheer size of it, the way it strained and jerked slightly every time he sucked harder on her tit, made her mouth go dry.