Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Kya main… touch kar sakti hoon?”
“Can I… touch?”
 
Bhola didn’t answer. He just stood there, confused and shy, breathing fast.
 
Simran didn’t wait for words. She reached forward slowly, her small, milky-white hand looking tiny against the dark, monstrous cock. She ran her fingertips gently along the underside from base to head, feeling the heat, the throbbing veins, the impossible girth. The contrast was mesmerising — her soft, pale skin against the thick, dark shaft. She wrapped her fingers around it as best she could, but they didn’t even meet. It was too thick.
 
Her mind was spinning with filthy thoughts:
 
This is so big… so heavy… so strong… I want to tame it. I want to make it mine. I want to ride this monster every single night. I want it stretching me open while Bhola sucks my tits at the same time. Look at those veins… he must be in so much pain staying this hard all the time. How can I give him relief? How can I make this beautiful monster feel good?
 
She looked up at him again, voice soft and shaky.
 
“Bhola… main kya kar sakti hoon madad ke liye?”
“Bhola… what can I do to help?”
 
Bhola shifted uncomfortably, still not understanding the full weight of her words.
 
“Kuch nahi, Bhabhi… yeh apne aap chala jayega. Hamesha jaata hai.”
“Nothing, Bhabhi… it will go away on its own. It always does.”
 
Simran’s eyes widened.
 
“Yahan zyada sensation nahi hota?”
“You don’t feel much sensation here?” she asked, gently squeezing the thick shaft.
 
Bhola shook his head, looking almost apologetic.
 
“Main zyada feel nahi karta, Bhabhi. Mujhe asal mein aata-jaata feel nahi hota. Maaf karna.”
“I don’t feel much, Bhabhi. I don’t really feel it coming and going. I’m sorry.”
 
Simran’s mind reeled.
 
He doesn’t feel it? That means… this huge, beautiful cock is basically only for others to enjoy? Not even for him? He can stay hard for hours… maybe even fuck for hours without cumming too fast…
 
The realisation hit her like a drug. A dark, delicious thrill ran through her body. Her pussy clenched again, leaking fresh slick down her thighs.
 
She opened her mouth to say something — anything — when the doorbell rang sharply through the house.
 
Ravi was back.
 
Simran’s eyes widened in panic. She quickly stood up, but before she could move away, she leaned forward one last time. She pressed her cheek and nose against the hot, throbbing length of his cock, inhaling deeply — the musky, masculine scent mixed with the faint sweetness of his precum. She closed her eyes for one long second, breathing him in like she was memorising it.
 
Then she pulled back, smiled up at him with flushed cheeks, and whispered:
 
“Aaj tum mujhe mera hissa dena bhool gaye…”
“You forgot to feed me my share today…”
 
She straightened her shirt, turned, and hurried toward the main door, completely forgetting she was still in her super-short white shorts and loose open shirt — no bra, nipples clearly visible through the fabric, shorts riding high on her thighs, the crotch dark with her arousal.
 
She opened the main door for Ravi, her heart pounding, body still humming from everything that had just happened.
 
Simran’s legs were still shaky as she had walked to the main door, her heart racing from everything that had just happened in Bhola’s room. She opened it with what she hoped was a normal smile, and Ravi stepped inside, briefcase in hand, looking tired but happy to be home.
 
The moment his eyes landed on her, they widened.
 
“Simran… wow,” he said, stopping in the doorway and taking her in from head to toe. “You are looking… something else tonight.”
 
She was still in the loose white short and matching loose shirt she had thrown on earlier. The shorts rode high on her creamy thighs, the hem barely covering the lower curve of her ass. The shirt hung open at the top two buttons, giving a dangerous glimpse of her deep cleavage and the soft inner swells of her heavy breasts. Her nipples were still stiff and slightly visible through the thin fabric, and the faint damp spots from her leaking milk were just noticeable if someone looked closely. Her hair was messy from the earlier activities, cheeks still flushed, lips slightly swollen. She looked like a woman who had just been thoroughly used — which, in a way, she had.
 
She laughed lightly, trying to play it off.
 
“I just came downstairs looking for you. There you rang the bell at the perfect time.”
 
Ravi stepped inside, still staring at her legs and the way the shirt clung to her curves.