Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Where’s Bhola?” he asked casually, setting his bag down.
 
Simran shrugged, keeping her voice steady.
 
“He’s somewhere around. I don’t know… probably in the kitchen or his room. I haven’t seen him”, she was surprised at her openly lying to her husband. Her heart skipped a beat.
 
Ravi nodded, too tired to think much of it, and they both headed upstairs together. Simran walked a step ahead, very aware of how her ass moved in the short shorts and how the shirt shifted with every step, threatening to reveal more.
 
Bhola was still in his room, his heart was pounding like a rabbit as Simran had just walked outside with his dick in his hands. The massive erection in his pants refused to go down even slightly. The powder had dulled the sensation, but the visual and emotional overload from what had just happened with Simran had kept him painfully hard. He quickly pulled his dick upward, tucking the thick shaft against his lower belly, then grabbed a long, loose kurta from his cupboard and wore it over his pants. The hem hung low enough to completely hide the obscene bulge. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and went back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up, his mind still replaying the feeling of Simran’s soft lips brushing against his cock.
 
Upstairs, Ravi dropped onto the bed with a tired sigh and looked at Simran again as she moved around the room.
 
“Simran, seriously… you are wearing such scandalously sexy clothes today,” he said with a playful grin. “Men would die just looking at you like this.”
 
She turned toward him, smiling teasingly, and gave a little spin that made the shorts ride up even higher on her thighs.
 
“Don’t worry… no men will see me to die,” she replied, her voice light and playful.
 
Ravi raised an eyebrow, still grinning.
 
“Really? What about Bhola?”
 
Simran’s heart skipped, but she kept her tone casual and confident.
 
“Ravi, he is family. Don’t worry about him.”
 
Ravi chuckled and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead.
 
“Of course I never do. He’s like a younger brother to us”, Simran just felt awkward and a bitter taste with that word Brother.
 
He leaned back against the headboard and asked, “Anyway, how was your day?”
 
Simran quickly deflected, not wanting to linger on anything that might make her blush.
 
“Forget about me. How was your day?”
 
Ravi’s face lit up a little as he started talking.
 
“Actually, it was pretty good. I closed a new deal with a Bangalore-based company. They want us to integrate AI into their gaming and digital magazine platforms — smart recommendation engines, personalised content, that kind of thing. It’s a big project. I have to fly to Bangalore tomorrow morning for the first meeting. I’ll be back the next day morning, hopefully.”
 
Simran nodded, trying to look interested while her mind was still downstairs, replaying every second of what had happened with Bhola. Her nipples were still tingling, her pussy still wet, and the taste of her own milk from his mouth lingered faintly on her tongue.
 
She smiled at Ravi and said softly, “That sounds important. You should rest well tonight.”
 
But inside, her thoughts were already drifting back to the servant’s room and the monster she had finally seen.
 
Simran slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her with a soft click. The moment she was alone, she leaned against the sink for a second, trying to steady her breathing. Her body was still humming from everything that had happened downstairs — the taste of her own milk on Bhola’s lips, the sight of his monstrous cock, the way it had slapped against her mouth and chin. She could still feel the heat of it against her skin.
 
She quickly lowered her loose white shorts and the soaked white panty in one motion, letting them pool around her ankles. Her pussy was completely exposed now — plump, puffy outer lips glistening with her arousal, the inner folds a deeper, wetter pink, slightly parted and shining. Her clit was swollen and erect, peeking out from its hood, throbbing visibly with every heartbeat. A thin string of her slick hung from her entrance, stretching downward before breaking and dripping onto the floor.
 
She sat down on the toilet seat, thighs spread, and let go.
 
The moment the warm piss started flowing, a sharp, unexpected shiver ran through her entire body. The stream was strong and steady, hissing against the porcelain, the heat of it cascading over her swollen clit and sensitive inner lips. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming — hot liquid rushing over already hypersensitive flesh, teasing every nerve ending, making her gasp and tremble. Her pussy clenched involuntarily around nothing, sending fresh sparks up her spine. Goosebumps exploded across her arms, thighs, and the undersides of her heavy breasts.
 
She looked incredibly sexy like this — sitting on the toilet with her shorts and panty around her ankles, legs spread wide, head tilted back, lips parted in a soft, surprised moan. Her milky-white skin glowed under the bathroom light, her heavy breasts rising and falling with each shaky breath, dark nipples still stiff and leaking tiny drops of milk that rolled down the curves. Her pussy was on full display — plump, dripping, the pink folds glistening with a mixture of her piss and arousal. The way her thighs trembled, the way her belly tightened with every pulse of pleasure, the way her toes curled against the floor — she looked like a woman lost in the most forbidden kind of ecstasy.