Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Then… cheat?”
 
Preeti nodded without hesitation.
 
“It’s a medical and biological need. Simmu, you don’t get to enjoy everything. A sati savitri does not enjoy that thing. Either be a sati savitri, use a breast pump, and die of cancer in your condition… or use him for your biological needs.”
 
Simran looked conflicted, her voice cracking slightly.
 
“Then what about Ravi? How can I… I am not able to explain you.”
 
Preeti leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm.
 
“You mean carry his baby, right? Do that concurrently with Ravi too. I have seen hundreds of cases like this in my clinic — women come to me for abortion. Ninety percent of them don’t do the abortion. They fuck their husbands, make them believe it’s theirs, and live happily ever after. Nature takes care of the rest. The baby looks like the husband because the husband raises it with love. No one ever knows.”
 
Simran sat there, speechless, the weight of Preeti’s words pressing down on her while the cool evening breeze blew across the balcony.
 
The conversation had gone from teasing to something far more dangerous and life-altering.
 
Simran sat frozen on the balcony chair, her glass of vodka-orange forgotten in her hand. Preeti’s words were still ringing in her ears — the casual, almost clinical way she had suggested using Bhola as a breeding bull for her baby. Simran’s mind was spinning. She desperately wanted to confess everything — that she had already gone much further than just letting him suck her tits. That she had sucked his massive cock twice now, that she had swallowed his thick, hot cum, that she had loved every filthy second of it, that she had knelt there like a desperate whore while he emptied his heavy balls into her mouth. But the words wouldn’t come out. It felt too raw, too shameful, too dangerous to admit even to her closest friend.
 
Preeti noticed the heavy silence and tilted her head.
 
“Simmu? You okay?”
 
Simran forced a small smile and nodded.
 
“Yeah… just processing. It’s a lot.”
 
Preeti was about to say something more when she suddenly checked her watch and sighed.
 
“I should get going. It’s getting late and the roads will be slippery after the rain.”
 
Simran nodded, but Preeti didn’t stand up immediately. Instead, she gave Simran a long, mischievous look.
 
“But before I go… I need to see that thing.”
 
Simran blinked, confused.
 
“What?”
 
Preeti leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
 
“Bhola’s dick. I need to see it. Even if it’s just a picture. I really need to see what we’re talking about.”
 
Simran’s eyes widened in shock.
 
“Preeti… how can you even ask that? I can’t just take a picture of his… his cock and send it to you!”
 
Preeti gave her a pleading look, half-drunk and completely serious.
 
“I don’t know how else to do it. Please, Simmu. Just one picture. I need to know if it’s really as big as you say. I need to see it for myself before I make any decisions.”
 
Simran stared at her best friend, mouth slightly open, completely flustered.
 
“Preeti… how? I mean… that’s crazy. I can’t just—”
 
Preeti stopped her mid-sentence. She leaned forward, cupped Simran’s face gently with both hands, and kissed her softly on the lips. It was a slow, lingering kiss — warm, intimate, and persuasive. When she pulled back, she whispered against Simran’s lips:
“Please.”
 
Simran’s heart was pounding. She stared at Preeti for a long second, then let out a defeated, embarrassed laugh.
 
“Okay… fine. Now get the fuck out. Ass.”
 
Preeti grinned triumphantly. Both of them raised their glasses and did bottoms up, finishing the last of their vodka-orange in one go. The alcohol burned pleasantly down their throats.
 
They stood up, still laughing and teasing each other as they walked downstairs together. Bhola, hearing them, came out from the kitchen to see them off. He was still wearing the slightly damp T-shirt and pants from earlier, the heavy outline of his thick cock faintly visible even in its softer state.
 
Preeti glanced at it again as they reached the door. Simran noticed and felt another sharp pang of possessiveness mixed with strange excitement.
 
Bhola opened the main door and stepped outside with an umbrella to show light for Preeti to reach her car in the light drizzle.
 
Preeti turned to him with a sweet smile.
 
“Okay bye, Bhola. Thank you for the snacks.”
 
Then she looked back at Simran and gave her a quick, naughty wink — full of mischief and promise.
 
“Drive safe,” Simran called out.
 
Preeti waved, started the engine, and drove away into the wet night.
 
Simran stood at the door for a moment, watching the taillights disappear, her mind racing with everything that had just been said — and everything she still hadn’t confessed.
 
The night was far from over.