Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Ravi came down, hair still damp from the quick evening wash, looking more awake now after the long nap.
 
"Dinner lag gaya kya? Bhookh lagi hai yaar."
("Is dinner ready? I'm really hungry, yaar.")
 
Simran nodded quickly.
 
"Haan, lagati hoon. Chalo baitho. Abhi to 7:30 hi huwe hai."
("Yes, I'll set it. Come, sit down. It's only 7:30 right now.")
 
After 30 more minutes, Ravi again said, lets have it now.
 
Both of them ate together at the dining table. Simple sabzi-roti, curd, pickle. Ravi was chatty now, fresh after sleeping most of the day, telling some office story from last night while he stuffed rotis into his mouth. Simran smiled and nodded in the right places, serving him extra sabzi, acting like everything was perfectly normal. Bhola stayed mostly silent, clearing plates the moment they were empty, eyes flicking to her open gown every time he passed behind her chair.
 
After dinner they moved to the living room. Ravi switched on the TV, some crime show he liked, volume was low. Simran curled up on the sofa beside him, legs tucked under her, gown parting slightly at the knee but still decent. Bhola sat on the single chair across from them, pretending to watch but really just waiting.
 
Time crawled. They started watching something at 9. But then 9 became 10, 10 became 11.
 
Simran's tits were starting to feel full again. Not painfully yet, but that slow, heavy tightness was creeping back, nipples stiffening against the soft cotton. Between her legs the fresh panty was soaked through, the cotton dark and clinging to her swollen lips. Every time she shifted, the fabric dragged over her clit and made her bite the inside of her cheek.
 
She needed relief before bed. Needed Bhola's mouth on her again, quick and hard, just enough to empty her so she could sleep without aching.
 
She glanced at Ravi. He was wide awake, eyes glued to the screen, laughing at some dialogue.
 
She tried hinting.
 
"Yaar thak gayi hoon. Neend aa rahi hai."
("Yaar, I'm so tired. I'm feeling sleepy.")
 
Ravi didn't even look away from the TV. "Abhi toh show chal raha hai. Dus minute aur dekh loon."
 
Simran pressed her thighs together, feeling the wet slide of her pussy lips. She couldn't wait ten minutes. She needed it now.
 
Then the idea came.
 
She stood up slowly, stretching like she was tired.
 
"Theek hai, main bedroom mein jaati hoon. Tum dekh lo. Mujhe kapde bhi change karne hain."
("Okay, I'm going to the bedroom. You keep watching. I need to change my clothes too.")
 
Ravi nodded absently.
 
"Haan jaao. Main aata hoon thodi der mein."
("Yes, go ahead. I'll come in a little while.")
 
Simran walked toward the stairs, heart already hammering. At the foot of the staircase she paused, turned slightly so only Bhola could see her face, and gave the smallest nod toward the upper floor.
 
Bhola understood instantly.
 
She climbed the stairs, gown swishing, tits bouncing softly with each step. Inside the bedroom she left the door slightly ajar, just enough. Then she stood near the wardrobe, back to the door, and started undoing the buttons one by one. Just enough for Bhola to do his job. The gown parted to expose her breasts. Her tits hung free, full and heavy again, nipples dark and already leaking tiny beads of milk.
 
She heard soft footsteps on the stairs.
 
Bhola appeared in the doorway, eyes darkening the second he saw her standing there with the gown open like an invitation.