Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

 
“Bhabhi…”
 
Simran turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself quickly.
“Yes, Bhola? What happened?”
 
He spoke calmly from the other side of the slightly open door.
 
“Bhabhi… aapke chuchiyon ko choosne ka time ho gaya hai.”
“Bhabhi… it’s time to suck your boobs.”
 
Simran’s breath caught. She smiled to herself, a mix of surprise and amusement.
 
“Pata hai,” she called back, voice slightly husky. “Tum neeche jao. Main ek minute mein aa jaungi.”
“I know,” she called back, voice slightly husky. “You go downstairs. I’ll come in a minute.”
 
Bhola’s footsteps retreated down the corridor.
 
Simran stood under the shower a little longer, letting the water beat against her skin. She thought to herself:
 
This guy openly asks me to suck my boobs like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I have to tell him to be careful when someone might be around. But… God, the way he says it so innocently… it makes me wet every single time.
 
She smiled to herself, turned off the shower, and stepped out.
 
She dried herself slowly, then walked back into the bedroom still naked. She chose something deliberately sexy and easy for Bhola to access: a beach-type kameez in soft coral pink — extremely low-cut, with only thin strings for shoulders and a plunging neckline that showed a massive amount of her sexy cleavage. The side cuts went all the way up to her upper waist, making her side boobs easily visible and accessible. The kameez ended high on her thighs, barely covering her ass. Underneath she wore only a tiny red thong, the waistband deliberately visible whenever she moved. Her hair was left dishevelled and slightly damp, falling in messy waves around her shoulders.
 
She looked very sexy — dangerously so. The outfit screamed availability. Her target was clear: make Bhola’s hardness go away through some means, whatever it took.
 
She sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up her phone, starting to search online: “how to relieve persistent erection” and “what to do when a man stays hard for hours”.
 
Her mind was already racing ahead.
 
Simran was still sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, when she heard Bhola’s footsteps on the stairs. She quickly locked the screen and placed the phone aside just as he appeared at the open door, holding a glass of warm milk mixed with the usual Jeevdhatu powder.
 
“Bhabhi, ye lijiye,” he said softly, stepping inside. “Doodh pi lijiye… aur mujhe bhi peene dijiye.”
“Bhabhi, take this,” he said softly, stepping inside. “Please drink this milk… and let me also drink your milk.”
 
The words were so innocent, so to the point, yet they landed like pure filth in the quiet room. Simran felt a fresh rush of heat between her legs. She couldn’t help but laugh — a soft, surprised, slightly nervous laugh that made her heavy breasts jiggle under the loose shirt.
 
“Bhola… tum sach mein aise bolte ho,” she said, taking the glass from him, her cheeks warm. “Tum mujhse phir se peena chahte ho already?”
“Bhola… you really say it like that,” she said, taking the glass from him, her cheeks warm. “You want to drink from me again already?”
 
Bhola smiled shyly but honestly.
 
“Haan Bhabhi… aapka doodh bahut swadist hai. Main ise roz peeta hoon toh mujhe bahut takat milti hai. Aapki chuchiyan itni bhari hui rehti hain… main unhe khali kiye bina chain nahi milta.”
“Yes Bhabhi… your milk is very tasty. I drink it every day so I get a lot of strength. Your boobs stay so full… I don’t feel at peace until I empty them.”
 
Simran took a sip of the milk, her eyes flicking down to the obvious bulge still straining in his pants. She could see the wet spot from his precum had grown larger.
 
“Tumne meri short aur shirt dhone ko de di?”
“You gave my short and shirt for washing?” she asked, trying to change the subject slightly while her mind kept replaying the sight of his massive cock.
 
“Haan Bhabhi,” he replied, standing close. “Woh dono kapde doodh se aur paseene se geele ho gaye the. Main dho deta hoon. Bhabhi… bathroom se nightie aur panty bhi le lu? Main usko bhi saaf kar dunga.”
“Yes Bhabhi,” he replied, standing close. “Those two clothes had become wet with milk and sweat. I will wash them. Bhabhi… should I also take the nightie and panty from the bathroom? I will clean them too.”
 
Simran’s face flushed deeper. She shifted on the bed, feeling the dampness between her thighs.
 
“Panty is not there.”
“Panty Nahi hai waha,” she said quietly.
 
Bhola went to the bathroom and picked up the nightie but couldn’t find the panty; looked confused for a few seconds, then his expression cleared.