22-02-2026, 11:59 AM
The old man set the last cup down, his voice low and heavy with longing.
"My daughter... I miss my daughter so much... her warmth... her hugs... the way she used to lean into me... the house feels so empty without her... I ache for that closeness... that comfort... it hurts deep inside," he said, his eyes glistening, tears forming, his cock slowly hardening in his black pants as he spoke, his breath slightly ragged.
My wife’s boobs heaved over the red blouse, her large dark eyes filling with tears, her voice soft, trembling with empathy.
"Daddy... don’t... don’t be sad... I am here... I am here for you... I will give you that warmth... that comfort... please... let me... I can’t see you hurting like this... it breaks my heart," she whispered, stepping closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, her boobs pressing firmly against his chest through her red blouse, her mangalsutra resting between them, her thick juicy thighs brushing his legs.
The old man readily hugged her back tight, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands roaming slowly all over her back over her red blouse, fingers tracing the outline of her white bra straps, sliding down to feel the white bra hooks behind, pressing gently into her back, savoring the softness of her boobs against him, his cock fully erect now, rubbing slowly and deliberately all over my wife’s thighs through his black pants, the bulge grinding against her thick juicy thighs over the red chiffon saree, pressing into her warmth with each subtle shift.
After a few heated seconds he gently broke the hug, his cock fully erect, making a huge throbbing bulge in his black pants, clearly visible.
"My daughter... I am sorry... I have a boner... you are like my daughter... it is wrong... forgive me... my body... it reacts... to your closeness," he said, his voice husky and apologetic, his eyes locked on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My wife looked down innocently, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her voice soft and understanding.
"Daddy... it is okay... my husband told me it is normal for men to have boners in their pants when they hug... it is just a bodily reaction... nothing wrong... please don’t feel bad... I understand... it happens," she said gently, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his cock throbbing in his black pants.
"Your husband is smart... very smart... he knows... he understands... good man," he said, his voice warm and husky.
My wife smiled proudly, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, adjusting her red chiffon saree pallu with her hands, pulling it up over her boobs, cupping her boobs gently through the red blouse as she smoothed the pallu, her boobs shifting under her palms, then taking her hands off and looking at him, smiling.
"Yes daddy... my husband is very smart... when the Contractor left our house construction... he completed it with just the Mesthri and 4 workers... he supervised everything... every detail... made sure it was perfect... no shortcuts... he worked so hard... day and night... he is amazing... I am so proud of him... he always supports me... pushes me to finish my degree... he loves me so much... he wants me to succeed... he is my strength," she said, her voice full of pride and love, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her large dark eyes shining.
The old man smiled, his eyes ogling her boobs as she spoke and adjusted her red chiffon saree pallu, watching her cup her boobs gently, his cock throbbing in his black pants, his gaze hungry but his face warm.
"Yes... your husband is a good man... smart... caring... you are lucky... and he is lucky to have you... my daughter," he said, his voice soft, his eyes still on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My wife smiled, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree, feeling proud and emotional.
I sat on the maroon leather sofa, my cock throbbing painfully inside my white dhoti, leaking precum, the sight of my wife hugging him, his cock rubbing her thighs, his hands roaming her back and white bra, her innocent explanation about boners, her proud talk about me while he ogled her boobs, her adjusting her red chiffon saree pallu and cupping her boobs, drove me wild with jealousy and filthy excitement, my balls aching as I watched, heart pounding in the luxurious living room.
The old man looked at my wife, his right arm still around her waist over her red blouse, his voice gentle.
"Sudha... my baby... you look tired... go home now... take rest... sleep well tonight... it is very important to be fresh tomorrow... for the shoot... your body needs energy... your mind needs calm... daddy wants you to shine... rest properly... okay?" he said softly, his hand squeezing her hip over the red chiffon saree, his cock throbbing in his black pants.
My wife nodded, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft.
"Yes daddy... I will go home... rest... thank you daddy... for everything," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs trembling under the red chiffon saree.
The old man stood up, keeping his arm around her shoulder, guiding her out of the kitchen toward me on the sofa.
"Rajesh... Sudha is tired... I told her to go home and rest... sleep well for tomorrow... she needs to be fresh... for the shoot," he said, his voice caring, his arm still around my wife’s shoulder over her red blouse.
My wife smiled at me, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, gesturing me to come along.
"Rajesh... let's go home... daddy is right... I need rest," she said softly, her large dark eyes warm.
I stood up from the maroon leather sofa, my cock throbbing painfully inside my white dhoti, leaking precum, and joined them.
The old man looked at me, his cock hard in his black pants, his voice casual but probing.
"Rajesh... are you okay with Sudha acting in romance scenes? The story has intimate moments... bold expressions... are you comfortable with that?" he asked, his arm still around my wife’s shoulder.
I smiled, my cock throbbing harder, my voice calm and liberal.
"I have no problem... it is not just for the cause... women's education... empowerment... it is art... expression... I am a liberal person... I don’t want to control my wife... especially in things which could be pleasurable... for her... for the film... for the message... she is free... I trust her... I support her," I said, sounding like a feminist, my cock leaking more precum inside my white dhoti.
My wife looked at the old man innocently, her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
"Daddy... I am very conservative... from a conservative family... I am worried to do intimate scenes... I have never done anything like that... I am scared," she said softly, her thick juicy thighs trembling under the red chiffon saree.
The old man squeezed her shoulder gently, his voice soothing and confident.
"Sudha... my baby... don’t worry... trust me... trust daddy... I will make you comfortable... I know where to touch you... how to guide your body... your expressions... I will make the romance look natural... sensual... beautiful... soft lighting... close shots on your eyes... your lips... your breathing... slow movements... no force... only emotion... you will feel safe... I will be there... every second... like a father... you will enjoy it... it will be art... not sin... trust daddy... okay?" he said, his voice low and seductive, his cock throbbing in his black pants, his words making my cock pulse violently inside my white dhoti.
My wife looked at him, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes trusting, her voice soft.
"Yes daddy... I trust you... I will do it... for you... for the message," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs relaxing slightly under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his hand sliding down her back over her red blouse.
"Good girl... my baby... now go home... rest... tomorrow we start... daddy loves you," he said emotionally, his cock hard in his black pants.
My wife smiled, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft.
"I love you too daddy... thank you... I will rest," she said, her voice full of trust, turning to me.
"Rajesh... let's go home," she said softly, her red chiffon saree swaying as she walked toward me, her plump ass cheeks jiggling under the saree, her thick juicy thighs moving gracefully.
The old man looked at my wife, his right arm still around her waist over her red blouse, his voice gentle.
"Sudha... my baby... before you leave... I have Tirupati laddoo for you... wait," he said warmly, standing up and walking to the kitchen.
He came back with a plate of laddoos, the rich aroma of ghee, cardamom, and sugar filling the living room. He handed two full laddoos to me and my wife, then picked up the third one, which was half broken, and offered it to my wife.
"Take these two full laddoos... this half broken one... eat it now... tell daddy how it tastes... my baby," he said softly, his cock throbbing visibly in his black pants, his eyes locked on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My wife innocently took the half broken laddoo, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft. She brought it to her full red lips, parting them slowly, her tongue tip emerging first, touching the laddoo’s warm, sticky surface, tasting the golden ghee and sugar. She took a small bite, the laddoo crumbling between her teeth, ghee melting instantly on her tongue, thick and buttery, sweet syrup coating her inner cheeks, a tiny piece sticking to her lower lip. She chewed slowly, her lips moving sensually, cheeks hollowing as she sucked the ghee from the laddoo, her tongue swirling inside her mouth, savoring every bit, a soft, wet smacking sound as she swallowed, a thick drop of ghee mixed with her saliva dripping slowly from the corner of her mouth. She licked it away with the tip of her tongue, dragging it along her lower lip in a long, slow stroke, her lips glistening wetly with ghee and spit, her breathing soft and heavy, her boobs heaving over the red blouse with each deliberate chew, her large dark eyes half-closed in innocent pleasure, the laddoo’s sweetness lingering on her lips and tongue, making them look plump, shiny, and inviting.
The old man ogled at the way my wife was eating the laddoo, his eyes fixed on her mouth—her full red lips parting wider for each bite, her tongue curling around the sweet piece, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked the ghee, her lips smacking softly, saliva mixing with the ghee to create a glossy, wet sheen, her tongue flicking out to catch a drop, licking her lips slowly and deliberately, her mouth moving erotically, chewing, swallowing, tasting, the entire act slow and sensual, her breathing soft and heavy, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse with each swallow. He licked his lips repeatedly, his tongue sliding over his own mouth, mirroring her movements, his cock throbbing hard in his black pants, eyes dark with lust, his breathing heavier, his hands clenching slightly at his sides.
"Mmm... daddy... it is so tasty... sweet... soft... the ghee melts in my mouth... so rich... delicious," she said innocently, her voice soft and pleased, licking her lips again, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree.
The old man leaned closer, his voice thick with desire, his cock pulsing in his black pants.
"Good... my baby... daddy is happy you like it... eat slowly... enjoy every bit... daddy loves watching you eat... your mouth... so beautiful... so sweet... like you," he said, his eyes never leaving her lips, his tongue licking his own lips again, his breathing heavy.
He stepped closer, gently holding my wife’s jaw with his thumb and fingers, tilting her face up slightly, his eyes locked on her mouth.
"Let daddy see... there... some laddoo still there," he said softly, his thumb brushing her lower lip, then sliding into her mouth, scooping out a small piece of half-chewed laddoo mixed with her saliva, the sweet ghee and her warm spit glistening on his thumb.
He brought it to his own mouth, tasting it slowly, his tongue swirling around his thumb, savoring the mix of laddoo and my wife’s saliva, his eyes half-closed in pleasure, his cock throbbing in his black pants.
My wife’s cheeks flushed, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes wide with surprise.
"Daddy... it is disgusting... my saliva... the laddoo... with it," she said innocently, her voice soft and embarrassed, her thick juicy thighs trembling under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his voice warm and loving.
"No, my baby... it is not disgusting... it is sweet... like you... my daughter... nothing of yours is disgusting to daddy... it is love... care... I love tasting you... my baby... you are perfect," he said emotionally, his eyes on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My naive wife thought it was love and care, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her large dark eyes softening with trust.
"Okay daddy... if you say so... I understand... thank you daddy... for loving me... caring for me," she whispered, her voice full of innocent affection, her thick juicy thighs relaxing under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his cock throbbing in his black pants, watching her boobs and red blouse, his heart full of lust and fatherly affection.
"Yes, my baby... daddy loves you... now... eat the laddoo slowly... daddy is happy," he said softly, his hand still on her thigh over the red chiffon saree.
The old man looked at my wife, his right arm still around her waist over her red blouse, his voice gentle and caring.
"Sudha... my baby... tomorrow for the shoot... wear a nice saree... come in yellow saree and yellow blouse... and wear yellow petticoat too... it will look stunning on camera... the yellow will glow softly under the lights... give a warm, radiant look... your skin will shine golden... the saree will flow beautifully with your movements... the blouse will hug your boobs perfectly... the petticoat will outline your hips and thighs sensually... it will be modest yet elegant... perfect for the romantic scenes... you will look like a goddess... daddy wants you to shine tomorrow... okay?" he said softly, his cock throbbing in his black pants, his hand squeezing her hip over the red chiffon saree.
My wife looked at him, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft.
"Yes daddy... I will wear yellow saree... yellow blouse... and yellow petticoat... I will be ready... thank you daddy," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree, her voice full of trust.
As we were about to leave, the old man called my wife back, his voice soft and emotional.
"Sudha... my baby... never leave without hugging daddy... come here," he said, opening his arms.
My wife turned, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, her boobs pressing against his chest through her red blouse, her thick juicy thighs brushing his legs.
The old man hugged her back, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands sliding down to grip her plump ass cheeks over the red chiffon saree, squeezing them gently. He began kissing her all over her face erotically—first her forehead, lingering long and slow, his lips pressing firmly, wet and warm, then her closed eyelids, soft sucking kisses on each one, his tongue flicking out briefly to taste her skin, then her cheeks, slow and deep kisses, leaving faint wet marks, then the corners of her mouth, teasingly close to her lips, his tongue darting out to lick the edge of her lower lip, tasting her saliva mixed with laddoo sweetness, then her chin, sucking lightly, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, his cock throbbing hard in his black pants, pressing against her thighs through the saree, his face flushed red, eyes half-closed in lust, turned on completely, his breathing heavy and desperate.
My wife stood there hugging him, thinking it was daddy’s love, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes closed in innocent trust, her thick juicy thighs trembling slightly under the red chiffon saree.
After the kissing, he held her face gently with both hands, kissing her forehead one last time, long and tender.
"My baby... daddy loves you... so much... you are my angel... go now... rest... tomorrow we make magic," he said emotionally, his voice thick, his cock pulsing in his black pants.
My wife’s eyes filled with tears, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her voice choked with love.
"I love you too daddy... thank you... I will rest... see you tomorrow," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs trembling, her heart full of trust.
The old man sent us home, his eyes lingering on her boobs and red chiffon saree as she walked away, her ass cheeks jiggling under the saree, her thick juicy thighs moving gracefully.
We reached home, my cock throbbing painfully inside my white dhoti, leaking precum, the sight of the old man kissing my wife all over her face, squeezing her ass cheeks, her calling him daddy, trusting him completely, drove me wild with jealousy and filthy excitement, my balls aching as we entered the house, heart pounding in the night.
"My daughter... I miss my daughter so much... her warmth... her hugs... the way she used to lean into me... the house feels so empty without her... I ache for that closeness... that comfort... it hurts deep inside," he said, his eyes glistening, tears forming, his cock slowly hardening in his black pants as he spoke, his breath slightly ragged.
My wife’s boobs heaved over the red blouse, her large dark eyes filling with tears, her voice soft, trembling with empathy.
"Daddy... don’t... don’t be sad... I am here... I am here for you... I will give you that warmth... that comfort... please... let me... I can’t see you hurting like this... it breaks my heart," she whispered, stepping closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, her boobs pressing firmly against his chest through her red blouse, her mangalsutra resting between them, her thick juicy thighs brushing his legs.
The old man readily hugged her back tight, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands roaming slowly all over her back over her red blouse, fingers tracing the outline of her white bra straps, sliding down to feel the white bra hooks behind, pressing gently into her back, savoring the softness of her boobs against him, his cock fully erect now, rubbing slowly and deliberately all over my wife’s thighs through his black pants, the bulge grinding against her thick juicy thighs over the red chiffon saree, pressing into her warmth with each subtle shift.
After a few heated seconds he gently broke the hug, his cock fully erect, making a huge throbbing bulge in his black pants, clearly visible.
"My daughter... I am sorry... I have a boner... you are like my daughter... it is wrong... forgive me... my body... it reacts... to your closeness," he said, his voice husky and apologetic, his eyes locked on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My wife looked down innocently, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her voice soft and understanding.
"Daddy... it is okay... my husband told me it is normal for men to have boners in their pants when they hug... it is just a bodily reaction... nothing wrong... please don’t feel bad... I understand... it happens," she said gently, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his cock throbbing in his black pants.
"Your husband is smart... very smart... he knows... he understands... good man," he said, his voice warm and husky.
My wife smiled proudly, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, adjusting her red chiffon saree pallu with her hands, pulling it up over her boobs, cupping her boobs gently through the red blouse as she smoothed the pallu, her boobs shifting under her palms, then taking her hands off and looking at him, smiling.
"Yes daddy... my husband is very smart... when the Contractor left our house construction... he completed it with just the Mesthri and 4 workers... he supervised everything... every detail... made sure it was perfect... no shortcuts... he worked so hard... day and night... he is amazing... I am so proud of him... he always supports me... pushes me to finish my degree... he loves me so much... he wants me to succeed... he is my strength," she said, her voice full of pride and love, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her large dark eyes shining.
The old man smiled, his eyes ogling her boobs as she spoke and adjusted her red chiffon saree pallu, watching her cup her boobs gently, his cock throbbing in his black pants, his gaze hungry but his face warm.
"Yes... your husband is a good man... smart... caring... you are lucky... and he is lucky to have you... my daughter," he said, his voice soft, his eyes still on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My wife smiled, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree, feeling proud and emotional.
I sat on the maroon leather sofa, my cock throbbing painfully inside my white dhoti, leaking precum, the sight of my wife hugging him, his cock rubbing her thighs, his hands roaming her back and white bra, her innocent explanation about boners, her proud talk about me while he ogled her boobs, her adjusting her red chiffon saree pallu and cupping her boobs, drove me wild with jealousy and filthy excitement, my balls aching as I watched, heart pounding in the luxurious living room.
The old man looked at my wife, his right arm still around her waist over her red blouse, his voice gentle.
"Sudha... my baby... you look tired... go home now... take rest... sleep well tonight... it is very important to be fresh tomorrow... for the shoot... your body needs energy... your mind needs calm... daddy wants you to shine... rest properly... okay?" he said softly, his hand squeezing her hip over the red chiffon saree, his cock throbbing in his black pants.
My wife nodded, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft.
"Yes daddy... I will go home... rest... thank you daddy... for everything," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs trembling under the red chiffon saree.
The old man stood up, keeping his arm around her shoulder, guiding her out of the kitchen toward me on the sofa.
"Rajesh... Sudha is tired... I told her to go home and rest... sleep well for tomorrow... she needs to be fresh... for the shoot," he said, his voice caring, his arm still around my wife’s shoulder over her red blouse.
My wife smiled at me, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, gesturing me to come along.
"Rajesh... let's go home... daddy is right... I need rest," she said softly, her large dark eyes warm.
I stood up from the maroon leather sofa, my cock throbbing painfully inside my white dhoti, leaking precum, and joined them.
The old man looked at me, his cock hard in his black pants, his voice casual but probing.
"Rajesh... are you okay with Sudha acting in romance scenes? The story has intimate moments... bold expressions... are you comfortable with that?" he asked, his arm still around my wife’s shoulder.
I smiled, my cock throbbing harder, my voice calm and liberal.
"I have no problem... it is not just for the cause... women's education... empowerment... it is art... expression... I am a liberal person... I don’t want to control my wife... especially in things which could be pleasurable... for her... for the film... for the message... she is free... I trust her... I support her," I said, sounding like a feminist, my cock leaking more precum inside my white dhoti.
My wife looked at the old man innocently, her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
"Daddy... I am very conservative... from a conservative family... I am worried to do intimate scenes... I have never done anything like that... I am scared," she said softly, her thick juicy thighs trembling under the red chiffon saree.
The old man squeezed her shoulder gently, his voice soothing and confident.
"Sudha... my baby... don’t worry... trust me... trust daddy... I will make you comfortable... I know where to touch you... how to guide your body... your expressions... I will make the romance look natural... sensual... beautiful... soft lighting... close shots on your eyes... your lips... your breathing... slow movements... no force... only emotion... you will feel safe... I will be there... every second... like a father... you will enjoy it... it will be art... not sin... trust daddy... okay?" he said, his voice low and seductive, his cock throbbing in his black pants, his words making my cock pulse violently inside my white dhoti.
My wife looked at him, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes trusting, her voice soft.
"Yes daddy... I trust you... I will do it... for you... for the message," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs relaxing slightly under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his hand sliding down her back over her red blouse.
"Good girl... my baby... now go home... rest... tomorrow we start... daddy loves you," he said emotionally, his cock hard in his black pants.
My wife smiled, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft.
"I love you too daddy... thank you... I will rest," she said, her voice full of trust, turning to me.
"Rajesh... let's go home," she said softly, her red chiffon saree swaying as she walked toward me, her plump ass cheeks jiggling under the saree, her thick juicy thighs moving gracefully.
The old man looked at my wife, his right arm still around her waist over her red blouse, his voice gentle.
"Sudha... my baby... before you leave... I have Tirupati laddoo for you... wait," he said warmly, standing up and walking to the kitchen.
He came back with a plate of laddoos, the rich aroma of ghee, cardamom, and sugar filling the living room. He handed two full laddoos to me and my wife, then picked up the third one, which was half broken, and offered it to my wife.
"Take these two full laddoos... this half broken one... eat it now... tell daddy how it tastes... my baby," he said softly, his cock throbbing visibly in his black pants, his eyes locked on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My wife innocently took the half broken laddoo, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft. She brought it to her full red lips, parting them slowly, her tongue tip emerging first, touching the laddoo’s warm, sticky surface, tasting the golden ghee and sugar. She took a small bite, the laddoo crumbling between her teeth, ghee melting instantly on her tongue, thick and buttery, sweet syrup coating her inner cheeks, a tiny piece sticking to her lower lip. She chewed slowly, her lips moving sensually, cheeks hollowing as she sucked the ghee from the laddoo, her tongue swirling inside her mouth, savoring every bit, a soft, wet smacking sound as she swallowed, a thick drop of ghee mixed with her saliva dripping slowly from the corner of her mouth. She licked it away with the tip of her tongue, dragging it along her lower lip in a long, slow stroke, her lips glistening wetly with ghee and spit, her breathing soft and heavy, her boobs heaving over the red blouse with each deliberate chew, her large dark eyes half-closed in innocent pleasure, the laddoo’s sweetness lingering on her lips and tongue, making them look plump, shiny, and inviting.
The old man ogled at the way my wife was eating the laddoo, his eyes fixed on her mouth—her full red lips parting wider for each bite, her tongue curling around the sweet piece, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked the ghee, her lips smacking softly, saliva mixing with the ghee to create a glossy, wet sheen, her tongue flicking out to catch a drop, licking her lips slowly and deliberately, her mouth moving erotically, chewing, swallowing, tasting, the entire act slow and sensual, her breathing soft and heavy, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse with each swallow. He licked his lips repeatedly, his tongue sliding over his own mouth, mirroring her movements, his cock throbbing hard in his black pants, eyes dark with lust, his breathing heavier, his hands clenching slightly at his sides.
"Mmm... daddy... it is so tasty... sweet... soft... the ghee melts in my mouth... so rich... delicious," she said innocently, her voice soft and pleased, licking her lips again, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree.
The old man leaned closer, his voice thick with desire, his cock pulsing in his black pants.
"Good... my baby... daddy is happy you like it... eat slowly... enjoy every bit... daddy loves watching you eat... your mouth... so beautiful... so sweet... like you," he said, his eyes never leaving her lips, his tongue licking his own lips again, his breathing heavy.
He stepped closer, gently holding my wife’s jaw with his thumb and fingers, tilting her face up slightly, his eyes locked on her mouth.
"Let daddy see... there... some laddoo still there," he said softly, his thumb brushing her lower lip, then sliding into her mouth, scooping out a small piece of half-chewed laddoo mixed with her saliva, the sweet ghee and her warm spit glistening on his thumb.
He brought it to his own mouth, tasting it slowly, his tongue swirling around his thumb, savoring the mix of laddoo and my wife’s saliva, his eyes half-closed in pleasure, his cock throbbing in his black pants.
My wife’s cheeks flushed, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes wide with surprise.
"Daddy... it is disgusting... my saliva... the laddoo... with it," she said innocently, her voice soft and embarrassed, her thick juicy thighs trembling under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his voice warm and loving.
"No, my baby... it is not disgusting... it is sweet... like you... my daughter... nothing of yours is disgusting to daddy... it is love... care... I love tasting you... my baby... you are perfect," he said emotionally, his eyes on her boobs heaving over the red blouse.
My naive wife thought it was love and care, her boobs rising and falling over the red blouse, her large dark eyes softening with trust.
"Okay daddy... if you say so... I understand... thank you daddy... for loving me... caring for me," she whispered, her voice full of innocent affection, her thick juicy thighs relaxing under the red chiffon saree.
The old man smiled, his cock throbbing in his black pants, watching her boobs and red blouse, his heart full of lust and fatherly affection.
"Yes, my baby... daddy loves you... now... eat the laddoo slowly... daddy is happy," he said softly, his hand still on her thigh over the red chiffon saree.
The old man looked at my wife, his right arm still around her waist over her red blouse, his voice gentle and caring.
"Sudha... my baby... tomorrow for the shoot... wear a nice saree... come in yellow saree and yellow blouse... and wear yellow petticoat too... it will look stunning on camera... the yellow will glow softly under the lights... give a warm, radiant look... your skin will shine golden... the saree will flow beautifully with your movements... the blouse will hug your boobs perfectly... the petticoat will outline your hips and thighs sensually... it will be modest yet elegant... perfect for the romantic scenes... you will look like a goddess... daddy wants you to shine tomorrow... okay?" he said softly, his cock throbbing in his black pants, his hand squeezing her hip over the red chiffon saree.
My wife looked at him, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes soft.
"Yes daddy... I will wear yellow saree... yellow blouse... and yellow petticoat... I will be ready... thank you daddy," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs shifting under the red chiffon saree, her voice full of trust.
As we were about to leave, the old man called my wife back, his voice soft and emotional.
"Sudha... my baby... never leave without hugging daddy... come here," he said, opening his arms.
My wife turned, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, her boobs pressing against his chest through her red blouse, her thick juicy thighs brushing his legs.
The old man hugged her back, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands sliding down to grip her plump ass cheeks over the red chiffon saree, squeezing them gently. He began kissing her all over her face erotically—first her forehead, lingering long and slow, his lips pressing firmly, wet and warm, then her closed eyelids, soft sucking kisses on each one, his tongue flicking out briefly to taste her skin, then her cheeks, slow and deep kisses, leaving faint wet marks, then the corners of her mouth, teasingly close to her lips, his tongue darting out to lick the edge of her lower lip, tasting her saliva mixed with laddoo sweetness, then her chin, sucking lightly, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, his cock throbbing hard in his black pants, pressing against her thighs through the saree, his face flushed red, eyes half-closed in lust, turned on completely, his breathing heavy and desperate.
My wife stood there hugging him, thinking it was daddy’s love, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her large dark eyes closed in innocent trust, her thick juicy thighs trembling slightly under the red chiffon saree.
After the kissing, he held her face gently with both hands, kissing her forehead one last time, long and tender.
"My baby... daddy loves you... so much... you are my angel... go now... rest... tomorrow we make magic," he said emotionally, his voice thick, his cock pulsing in his black pants.
My wife’s eyes filled with tears, her boobs heaving over the red blouse, her voice choked with love.
"I love you too daddy... thank you... I will rest... see you tomorrow," she whispered, her thick juicy thighs trembling, her heart full of trust.
The old man sent us home, his eyes lingering on her boobs and red chiffon saree as she walked away, her ass cheeks jiggling under the saree, her thick juicy thighs moving gracefully.
We reached home, my cock throbbing painfully inside my white dhoti, leaking precum, the sight of the old man kissing my wife all over her face, squeezing her ass cheeks, her calling him daddy, trusting him completely, drove me wild with jealousy and filthy excitement, my balls aching as we entered the house, heart pounding in the night.
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