Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

She swallowed hard, then said softly:
 
“Idhar aao.”
“Come here.”
 
Bhola took one hesitant step closer. He was standing right in front of her now, while she sat on the edge of his bed. The height difference made the bulge level with her face.
 
Simran looked up at him, her voice gentle but insistent.
 
“Mujhe theek se dikhao kya ho raha hai, Bhola.”
“Show me properly what is happening, Bhola.”
 
He hesitated, confused and shy. After a long moment of her soft, reassuring words,
 
“Koi nahi… main bas dekhna chahti hoon… sharmane ki koi baat nahi hai” — he finally nodded.
“It’s okay… I just want to see… there’s nothing to be ashamed of” — he finally nodded.
 
With trembling fingers, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and slowly lowered them.
 
The pants slid down his strong thighs and pooled at his ankles.
 
He was still wearing his underwear — a simple white cotton brief that was now stretched to its absolute limit. The fabric looked like it would tear any second. The massive, thick shaft was clearly outlined, the fat head pushing aggressively against the waistband, precum soaking through in a large, dark patch. The sheer size of it made the underwear look comically small.
 
Simran stared, completely transfixed.
 
Her mouth was slightly open, eyes wide with a mixture of shock, curiosity, and raw hunger. She couldn’t look away. Her mind was spinning with filthy, overwhelming thoughts as she took in the impossible girth and length hidden just beneath that thin white fabric.
 
Bhola stood there, hands at his sides, cheeks burning with embarrassment, waiting for her reaction.
 
And Simran, still sitting on the bed in her open shirt, could only stare at the monster that had been pressing against her all evening.
 
The room felt smaller. The air felt thicker.
 
And the line they had been dancing around for days had just become dangerously thin.
 
 
Simran’s eyes were locked on the impossible bulge in Bhola’s pants. Her voice came out in a slow, breathless whisper, barely audible.
 
“What…? How is it possible…?”, she said to herself but loud enough for Bhola to hear something.
 
The words hung in the air like smoke. Bhola’s ears turned even redder. Although he didn’t understand fully what she said, he quickly reached down to pull his pants back up, clearly mortified, but Simran’s hand shot forward and caught both of his wrists before he could cover himself again.
 
“Ruko,” she said, her voice soft but trembling with something far more intense than curiosity. “Mujhe dekhna hai.”
“Wait,” she said, her voice soft but trembling with something far more intense than curiosity. “I need to see.”
 
Bhola froze, eyes wide with confusion and embarrassment.
 
“Bhabhi… fikar mat kijiye… yeh chala jayega. Bas thoda time lagta hai.”
“Bhabhi… don’t worry… it will go away. It just takes some time.”
 
Simran’s breath was shallow. Her gaze never left the massive, throbbing outline straining against the fabric.
 
“Time? Kitna time?”
“Time? How much time?”
 
“Shayad… do ghante ya uske aas-paas?”
“May be… two hours or so?” he stammered, still trying to gently pull his hands away.
 
“Do Ghante?”
“Two hours?” Simran repeated, almost in disbelief. Her mouth had gone dry, but her mind was flooding with heat. She could feel saliva pooling under her tongue, as if her body was preparing to taste something forbidden.
 
Two hours like this? That thing is staying hard for two whole hours?
 
The thought made her pussy clench so hard she had to press her thighs together. Fresh slick leaked into her already ruined panty.
 
She had to see it now. Today. This moment.
 
“Bas ek baar dekhne do,”
“Just let me see once,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.
 
Bhola didn’t move. He stood there, hands still half-covering the front of his pants, looking lost and shy.
 
Simran’s fingers trembled as she reached for the waistband of his pants. She hooked them under the elastic and started pulling downward slowly. The fabric resisted immediately. The monster inside was pointing almost straight up, the thick shaft angled toward the ceiling corner, making it difficult for the pants to slide over it. She tugged harder, but it only stretched the material tighter around the bulging head.