Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

She thought of Bhola’s cock again.
 
God… how huge it was. That thick, dark monster… so veiny, so heavy… I could still smell it when I pressed my face against it. That musky, masculine scent mixed with his precum… I wanted to taste it so badly. I wanted to wrap my lips around that fat head and feel it stretch my mouth open. I wanted it inside me. Deep. Hard. Filling me completely while he sucked my tits at the same time.
 
She tried to stop the thoughts.
 
She knew the dopamine was flooding her brain like sugar — the same way people eat ice cream too fast, desperate to make the sweetness last longer, only to finish it quicker. She tried to slow down, to push the filthy images away, but they kept coming back stronger. Her pussy clenched again as the last drops of piss trickled out, and she shivered with another wave of unknown joy.
 
She wiped herself slowly, almost caressingly, the toilet paper dragging over her swollen clit and making her bite her lip. Then she stood up, pulled her shorts and panty back up (the panty immediately soaking through again), and stepped out of the bathroom.
 
Ravi was already in the bedroom, taking off his watch.
 
“I’m going to take a quick bath,” he said, smiling at her.
 
Simran nodded, still a little dazed.
 
“I’ll go downstairs and ask Bhola to lay the table once dinner is ready.”
 
She went downstairs, her legs still slightly unsteady. The moment she stepped into the kitchen, she saw Bhola standing near the counter, arranging some plates. Without thinking, she walked straight up to him, reached out, and lifted the front of his kurta with one hand, exposing the crotch area of his pants.
 
The monster was still there — fully erect, straining obscenely against the fabric, the thick outline clearly visible, the head pushing hard against the waistband. A large wet spot of precum had soaked through.
 
Simran made a small concave with her left hand and gently pressed it against the bulge, feeling the incredible heat and hardness. She lifted it slightly upward, testing its weight, feeling how it throbbed against her palm.
 
Bhola tried to step back, but he was already pressed against the kitchen slab behind him. He looked at her with wide, surprised eyes.
 
Simran whispered, almost in awe:
“Ye kitna hard hai, Bhola…”
“It’s still so hard, Bhola…”
 
He swallowed, voice low.
 
“Ji Bhabhi… ye do ghanta baad hi jayega.”
“Yes, Bhabhi… it will go away after two hours only.”
 
Simran’s eyes darkened with lust and concern.
 
“Chinta mat karo…main kuch ahl nikalti hun.”
“Don’t worry… I will find a solution.”
 
She gripped the thick shaft through his pants for a moment — her small hand barely able to wrap around half of it — then released it with a shaky breath.
 
“”Table taiyaar kardo aur dinner ki taiyaari bhi,”
“Lay the table and prepare everything for dinner,” she said softly, stepping back.
 
Bhola nodded quickly, adjusting his kurta to hide the massive erection as best as he could.
 
Simran turned: her mind spinning with the feel of his cock still burning against her palm.
 
Simran stood in the kitchen, still flushed and breathing a little too fast after everything that had happened in Bhola’s room. Her loose shirt was slightly crooked, the top buttons still open, and the faint damp spots over her nipples were visible if anyone looked closely. She glanced toward the stairs, making sure Ravi was still upstairs, then turned to Bhola who was standing near the counter, trying to compose himself after the intense moment they had just shared.
 
She stepped closer, voice low and hurried.
 
“Bhola…aaj raat kisi tarah manage karo. Kal se, main zaroor kuch karungi. Vada karti hun.”
“Bhola… manage somehow tonight. From tomorrow, I will do something. I promise.”
 
Bhola nodded quietly, his eyes dark but respectful. He didn’t argue. He simply accepted her words with the same calm loyalty he always showed.
 
Simran gave him one last lingering look, then turned and walked upstairs, her loose shorts riding high on her thighs with every step.
 
When she entered the bedroom, Ravi was already out of the shower. He stood near the bed in just a towel around his waist, pulling clothes from the wardrobe and folding them neatly into his travel bag. He looked tired but focused, the way he always did before an important trip.