Niharika's Forbidden Never Ending Hunger(Scene 9 - 10 Videos - 1 Image)

[ashuezy2]

Scene 5

Madhav gave one last, brutal push with heavy iron screwdriver. Thick metal screw went fully deep into dry wood. Harsh, violent scbanging sound finally stopped. Living room became dead quiet again, except for fast, heavy breathing of my wife and carpenter.

Madhav dropped heavy tool on carpet. His dark, thin chest heaving up and down. His faded checked shirt fully wet with dirty, sour sweat. He leaned back against wooden doorframe, spreading mud-stained legs wide open on our clean family rug.

I wiped wet eyes behind silver laptop. I thought my traditional wife would finally stand up, fix fallen pink pallu, and go to kitchen to bring him daily wages. Every morning, Niharika wakes at six, takes pure bath, and does puja for our daughter’s bright future and my long life. She is foundation of our family.

But Niharika did not stand up. Her heavy craving fully broke all boundaries of our culture.

She rose from sitting on wide hips and got onto soft, bare knees. Without one word, my pure, beautiful wife crawled forward on carpet. She moved direct into space between his spread, dirty legs.

I fully stopped breathing. My heart felt like bursting from deep emotional pain, while body burned with most painful, raw lust I ever felt.

Niharika leaned thick, heavy body fully forward and got right on top of him. She straddled his dirty, rough thighs with soft, wide knees. She pressed massive, full weight direct against his thin frame, fully trapping dark, sweating labourer against wooden doorframe of living room.

She leaned so far over him that deep, exposed neckline of tight pink blouse almost touched his unbuttoned, sweaty chest. Heavy weight of her 38DD breasts crushing old pink cotton direct against his stringy, hard street muscles.

Madhav’s raw, calloused hands still resting on floor, but dark, hungry eyes fully wide in shock and strong lust. He stared straight down into deep, dark valley of her exposed cleavage, fully choked by her heavy pull. Clean, sweet smell of her jasmine hair oil now fully mixing with his filthy, raw street sweat.

"You have done so much hard work today, Madhav," Niharika whispered. Her voice not like good house lady anymore. It was dark, heavy, begging sound. Her face hovering just inch above his dirty, unshaven jaw. "Your rough hands must be very tired from forcing that heavy screw so deep. You need to rest proper now under my weight."

She did not kiss him. She did not give any physical comfort or release. She just kept him fully pinned under her heavy, soft Indian figure. Clean pink cotton of old saree getting fully stained by wet mud and sweat from his cheap trousers, but she did not care. She just hovered there, letting painful, forbidden heat between bodies burn higher and higher, forcing him to smell her, feel her heavy warmth, but denying real touch.

I sat frozen on sofa, crying silent, helpless tears for my family, while trousers stretched to breaking point. I was watching pure mother of my daughter willing crush her heavy body against low-class street worker, and slow, choking tension of waiting driving me fully insane.