Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Bhola’s lund… that big, dark, veiny beast… it belongs in my mouth now. In my throat. In my cunt. I want to worship it. I want to milk it dry every single day. I want to feel it pulsing against my tongue while he calls me his Bhabhi and fills my belly with his cum.
 
She stayed there for a long time — naked, dripping, fingers moving slowly inside herself — the water washing over her body while her mind drowned in dirty, obsessive thoughts about the servant’s monster cock.
 
Something had definitely changed.
 
And Simran wasn’t sure she wanted it to stop.
 
Simran stepped out of the bathroom completely naked, water dripping from every curve of her body like liquid diamonds under the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. She looked like a goddess sculpted for pure sin — a walking, breathing wet dream.
 
Her skin glowed, wet and flushed from the hot shower. Heavy, full breasts hung proudly on her chest, round and teardrop-shaped, the creamy flesh glistening with water droplets that rolled slowly down the soft undersides and hung from her dark, puffy nipples like tiny crystals. The wide rosewood areolas were textured and swollen, still leaking thin white trails of milk that mixed with the shower water and ran in shiny rivulets over her soft belly. Her waist was narrow and feminine, flaring out into wide, childbearing hips that swayed naturally with every step. Her ass was plump and perfect — two smooth, jiggling globes, water tracing the deep cleft between them. Between her thick, milky-white thighs, her pussy was on full display: outer lips plump and puffy, inner folds a deep, glistening pink, visibly swollen and slick even after the shower. A single drop of her fresh arousal hung from her clit like dew, threatening to fall.
 
She was dripping with sex — literally and figuratively. Every inch of her body screamed to be touched, sucked, fucked.
 
She didn’t bother with a towel. She simply walked to the wardrobe, water still running down her legs, and slipped on a tiny white panty that clung obscenely to her soaked pussy lips, the thin fabric turning slightly transparent where it touched her wetness. Then she pulled on a long, loose white T-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. The neckline was dangerously low, showing deep, inviting cleavage and the soft inner curves of her heavy breasts. The sides were loose enough that her sideboobs spilled out visibly with every movement. Her hard, dark nipples poked prominently through the thin cotton, two stiff points begging for attention. The hem of the T-shirt rode high whenever she moved, flashing the white panty and the lower curve of her ass.
 
She had no idea how devastating this simple outfit would look to Bhola.
 
Bhola had already taken a quick bath downstairs and was now heading upstairs to tidy the room, still wearing only a loose T-shirt and nothing underneath, his heavy cock swinging softly between his legs.
 
Simran sat down on the edge of the bed, folded her right leg up so her knee was near her chest, and picked up a bottle of bright red nail polish. She started applying it carefully to her toenails, completely unaware of how scandalously she was exposing herself.
 
The long T-shirt rode up high on her raised right thigh, revealing the entire smooth, creamy under-thigh and the full front of her white panty. The thin fabric was stretched tight over her puffed pussy lips, clearly outlining the swollen mound and the deep cleft between them. Her left thigh was completely exposed right up to the waistband of the panty. Because her right knee was pressed against her chest, her right breast was squeezed upward and outward, the soft, heavy flesh spilling generously out of the loose neckline — the dark nipple just barely hidden by the edge of the fabric. Her left tit was stretching the T-shirt obscenely, the hard nipple poking through like it was trying to tear free. Her wet hair hung in messy, sexy waves over her shoulders, a few strands sticking to her flushed cheeks and neck.
 
The position was pure, unintentional filth.
 
Bhola walked into the bedroom and froze at the doorway. His eyes went straight to the obscene display between her legs — the white panty clinging to her puffy pussy, the wet mark already starting to darken the fabric right over her clit. He could see the outline of her swollen lips, the way the panty was slightly wedged between them.
 
“Bhabhi… aap phir nahayi?”
“Bhabhi… did you bathe again?”, he asked, voice a little hoarse.
 
Simran looked up from her nails and smiled innocently.
 
“Haan… thoda garam tha na subah se.”
“Yes… it was a bit hot since morning.”
 
Bhola swallowed hard, trying to keep his eyes respectful, but they kept drifting back to her exposed thighs and the clearly visible panty-covered pussy.
 
“Ok… main aapke kapde le jata hun,” he said, quickly picking up the used panty from the bathroom floor and the kameez from the bed. “Aap khatam kar lijiye… main wapas aata hun.”
“Okay… I’ll take your clothes,” he said, quickly picking up the used panty from the bathroom floor and the kameez from the bed. “You finish… I’ll come back.”
 
Simran didn’t even look up from her nails.
 
“Tu laga dena.”
“You put it on.”
 
Bhola paused, surprised.
 
“Main? Thik hai…”
“Me? Okay…”
 
He knelt down in front of her on the floor, right between her spread legs. The view from there was devastating — her panty-clad pussy only inches from his face, the wet spot growing darker and more obvious. He picked up the red nail polish and gently took her right foot in his hand, starting to apply the polish to her beautiful toes with slow, careful strokes.
 
Simran’s forbidden valley was openly on display, the thin white panty the only barrier between Bhola’s eyes and her dripping, puffy pussy. She had no idea how much she was showing. A small, fresh wet mark had appeared right over her clit, slowly spreading as her body continued to react to the morning’s filth.
 
Bhola’s breath was slightly uneven, but he kept his face calm and focused, painting her toenails while his eyes kept stealing glances at the obscene sight between her thighs.
 
The morning had turned dangerously, deliciously charged.
 
And neither of them was in any hurry to stop it.
 
Bhola knelt between Simran’s spread legs, carefully painting her toenails with the bright red polish. The delicious, musky aroma of her freshly showered pussy was filling the air around him — sweet, warm, and slightly tangy from her earlier orgasms. Even though she was wearing that tiny white panty, the thin fabric was already damp again, clinging to her puffy lips and outlining every swollen fold. The scent was driving him crazy. His heavy cock, which had only just softened, was already starting to thicken and twitch between his legs. He shifted uncomfortably on his knees, trying to hide it, but the delicious smell kept making his dick stir. Thanks God, Bhola was wearing a pant, although without underwear as instructed, else it would have risen up then and there to salute the valley of heaven.
 
Simran switched legs, lifting her left foot and playfully resting it on Bhola’s lap, right on top of his thickening bulge.
 
“Bas yahin rakh lu?”
“Shall I keep it here?”, she said with a naughty smile.
 
Bhola’s breath hitched as her soft sole pressed against his cock. Simran felt it twitch under her foot and giggled. She pushed down gently with her toes, feeling the thick shaft start to harden again.
 
“Isko bolna abhi mat jaage,” she teased, biting her lower lip. “Abhi toh maine ise thanda kiya tha… phir se khada ho raha hai?”
“Tell it not to wake up now,” she teased, biting her lower lip. “I just cooled it down… and it’s getting hard again?”
 
Bhola’s face turned red, but he smiled shyly.
 
“Bhabhi aap bhi na… aapke pair itne soft hain aur aapki khushboo… main kya karun?”
“Bhabhi, you are joking… your feet are so soft and your scent… what should I do?”