Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Aaaahhhhh!” Simran gasped loudly, her hand flying to the back of his head, fingers gripping his hair tightly.
 
Bhola sucked like a starving animal. His cheeks hollowed deeply as he pulled with powerful, rhythmic force. Thick, warm streams of milk jetted straight onto his tongue in forceful pulses, filling his mouth instantly. He swallowed greedily, loud gulping sounds filling the kitchen, but he never slowed down. He sucked harder, deeper, his tongue pressing flat and swirling around the thick nipple while his hand squeezed the breast firmly from the base, milking her like a ripe mango. Milk overflowed from the corners of his lips, running down his chin and dripping onto her exposed belly in warm white trails.
 
He moaned deeply against her tit, the vibration sending electric shocks straight to her clit. His other hand came up, grabbing her left breast roughly through the open shirt, squeezing and kneading it hard, thumb rolling the leaking nipple. He released the right breast with a wet pop, a long string of milk stretching between his lips and her nipple, then immediately latched onto the left one even more aggressively, sucking with deep, hungry pulls that made her heavy tit jiggle in his mouth.
 
Simran’s knees buckled. She leaned back against the kitchen counter for support, head falling back, mouth open in shaky gasps and whimpers. Her hand pressed his head harder against her chest, urging him to take more, to suck deeper, while her other hand gripped the counter edge so tightly her knuckles turned white.
 
Bhola kept devouring her — loud, wet, messy sucks, switching between both tits every few seconds, squeezing them together, pulling the nipples long and letting them snap back with wet little pops, drinking every drop like he would never get enough. Milk was everywhere — spilling down his chin, soaking the front of his kurta, running in rivulets down her stomach and soaking into the waistband of her palazzo.
 
He was sucking her like he owned her tits.
 
And Simran was trembling, leaking, and dripping wet between her legs, completely lost in the raw pleasure of it.
 
Simran’s legs were completely useless now. Her knees kept buckling, thighs trembling violently as waves of pleasure rolled through her body. She was leaning back hard against the kitchen counter for support, but even that wasn’t enough. With a desperate, needy sound, she pulled Bhola even closer, both hands gripping the back of his head tightly, fingers twisted in his hair as she pressed his face deeper into her soft, leaking tits.
 
Bhola was devouring her like a man possessed. His big, rough hands slid under her heavy breasts, lifting them high and pulling them forcefully toward his mouth, squeezing the soft flesh so hard that milk sprayed in thick jets across his tongue. He sucked with raw hunger — cheeks hollowing deeply, lips sealed tight around her right nipple, pulling long and hard. Warm, creamy milk flooded his mouth in powerful streams. He swallowed greedily, loud gulping sounds filling the kitchen, but still more milk overflowed, running down his chin and dripping onto her bare stomach in warm white rivulets.
 
Her pussy was leaking just as badly. The white cotton panty was soaked through, the thin fabric clinging obscenely to her swollen pink lips. Fresh love juice kept gushing out of her with every powerful suck, sliding down her inner thighs in hot, slippery trails. Her clit was throbbing painfully, aching for any kind of friction.
 
“Aaaahhh… Bhola…” she gasped, voice shaky and broken, trying desperately to stay quiet.
 
Just then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps started on the stairs.
 
Ravi was coming down.
 
Simran’s eyes flew open in pure terror.
 
She shoved Bhola away with all her strength — both hands slamming hard against his shoulders. He stumbled back a step, her right nipple popping out of his mouth with a loud, wet pop. A thick string of milk stretched between his lips and her swollen, dark red nipple before snapping. A final spray of milk shot across her chest from the sudden release.
 
Simran spun toward the counter in panic, fingers shaking wildly as she started buttoning her checked shirt as fast as she could. One… two… three… four… She managed to get every single button closed just as Ravi’s footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs and he walked into the kitchen.
 
By some miracle, she looked almost normal when he appeared.
 
Ravi yawned, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
 
“Yaar, chai ban gayi kya?”
("Yaar, is the tea ready?")