Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Then the dream shifted again.
 
Preeti appeared.
 
She stepped out of the mist of falling milk like she had been waiting in the shadows the whole time. She was completely naked, her caramel skin glowing, her own full breasts swaying as she walked. Her long black hair was wet and plastered to her shoulders, and her eyes were dark with lust and fascination. She looked exactly like she had at the restaurant earlier that day — confident, sensual, and completely at ease with the filth unfolding in front of her.
 
Preeti stopped a few feet away, watching Simran suck greedily on Bhola’s enormous cock. A slow, wicked smile spread across her face.
 
“Look at you,” Preeti whispered, her voice echoing softly in the dream space. “My beautiful cow… getting her mouth fucked while she drowns everyone in her milk. You’re so fucking perfect like this.”
 
Simran moaned around Bhola’s cock, the sound vibrating along his shaft. Preeti stepped closer, her bare feet splashing through the pools of milk and cum on the floor. She reached out and gently cupped one of Simran’s spraying breasts, lifting it slightly, feeling the powerful jet of milk spray against her palm.
 
“So much milk,” Preeti murmured, almost in awe. “You’re producing so much for him… for us. Let me help you.”
 
Preeti leaned down and pressed her lips to Simran’s other nipple — the one not currently being sucked by Bhola’s cock. She sealed her mouth around it and sucked hard. Milk exploded into Preeti’s mouth in a thick, forceful stream. Preeti moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut as she drank greedily, swallowing Simran’s milk while her free hand slid down to cup Simran’s dripping pussy.
 
Simran’s eyes rolled back. The sensation of two mouths on her at once — Bhola’s massive cock stretching her lips and throat while Preeti sucked hungrily from her left tit — was too much. Her pussy clenched violently around Preeti’s fingers as another orgasm ripped through her. She came with a muffled scream around Bhola’s cock, her whole body shaking, milk spraying even harder from both breasts.
 
Preeti pulled back just enough to speak, her lips shiny with Simran’s milk.
 
“You taste so good,” she whispered, voice husky. “Keep feeding us, baby. Let us drink everything you have.”
 
Bhola’s cock throbbed harder in Simran’s mouth. He started thrusting gently, fucking her face in slow, deep strokes while Preeti returned to sucking her other tit. Milk poured from both breasts now — one into Preeti’s eager mouth, the other overflowing around Bhola’s thick shaft as he used her throat. Cum and milk mixed together, dripping everywhere, drenching all three of them.
 
Simran was drowning in pleasure.
 
Her mind spun with the filth of it all — her husband shouting uselessly in the background, her best friend drinking from her tits like a lover, and Bhola’s monstrous cock claiming her mouth while her body kept spraying milk like a broken fountain.
 
She came again.
 
And again.
 
The dream refused to end. It kept looping, getting dirtier, more intense, more overwhelming. Preeti’s fingers slid deeper inside her pussy, curling perfectly against her G-spot while she sucked harder on Simran’s nipple. Bhola’s cock grew even thicker in her mouth, stretching her lips obscenely as he fucked her face with long, powerful strokes.
 
Simran’s body convulsed in the dream, orgasms crashing through her one after another, milk spraying wildly, cum and cream covering her face, her breasts, her thighs.
 
She was lost.
 
Completely, utterly lost in the most forbidden pleasure her mind could create.
 
Simran woke with a start, her body slick with sweat, the sheets tangled around her legs. The clock on the bedside table read 5:07 PM. She had slept for hours — deep, heavy sleep that left her disoriented and groggy. Her mouth felt dry, her stomach growled loudly, reminding her she had skipped lunch entirely. The dream still clung to her like a fever — fragments flashing behind her eyes: endless sprays of her own milk, Preeti’s mouth on her breast, Bhola’s gigantic cock forcing its way between her lips, the overwhelming taste of cum and cream mixing together. She couldn’t remember half of it clearly, but the feeling remained — a hot, shameful ache low in her belly and between her legs.
 
She sat up slowly, rubbing her face. Her shirt was damp with sweat and fresh milk leaks, the fabric sticking to her heavy breasts. Her nipples were stiff and sensitive, already leaking again. Between her thighs, her panty was soaked through from the dream and the lingering arousal from earlier. She felt sticky, messy, and strangely alive.
 
She changed quickly into the loose white short and matching loose shirt she had worn earlier — the outfit was comfortable, casual, the kind of thing she sometimes lounged in at home. The shorts sat low on her hips, the shirt hung oversized and unbuttoned at the top, giving easy glimpses of her deep cleavage. She didn’t bother with a bra or change her panty. She simply ran her fingers through her messy hair and headed downstairs, stomach rumbling.