Just then, Bhola quietly entered the room. He placed a glass of water and a tall glass of milk mixed with Jeevdhatu on the bedside table. The moment he saw her stirring, he turned and left without saying a word.
A few seconds later, her phone started ringing. It was Ravi.
Simran sat up quickly, clearing her throat before answering.
“Hello?”
“Simran? I’ve been trying to reach you. My flight will land at 8 PM. I should be home by 9.”
Simran’s eyes widened in panic. 9 PM? She hadn’t prepared anything for dinner.
“Come soon,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll be waiting.”
They ended the call. Simran jumped out of bed, her sundress riding up slightly as she moved. She immediately called Bhola.
Bhola was already climbing the stairs. He appeared at her bedroom door within seconds.
Simran shouted, “Bhola, dinner.”
“Bhabhi, fikar mat kijiye,” he said calmly. “Main chicken already taiyar kar chuka hoon. Aapko bas neeche aana hai aur thoda masala daal kar finish karna hai.”
“Bhabhi, don’t worry,” he said calmly. “I have already prepared the chicken. You just have to come down and add some spices to finish it.”
Simran let out a huge sigh of relief. She stepped forward and hugged him tightly, her magnificent, heavy breasts squishing against his chest. The thin fabric of the sundress did nothing to hide how soft and full they were.
“jaan bachali tune, Bhola,”
“You are a lifesaver, Bhola,” she said, genuinely grateful.
Bhola smiled and gently pulled back.
“Bhabhi, pehle yeh doodh pi lijiye.”
“Bhabhi, have this milk first.”
Simran picked up the glass and drank it in one long go, finishing every drop. The cool, slightly sweet milk felt good going down.
She handed the empty glass back to him and said,
“Bhola, ab mujhe jaane do khana finish karne. Ravi aane wala hai.”
“Bhola, now let me go finish the food before Ravi arrives.”
“Ji, Bhabhi,” he replied with a nod.
As she turned to leave, a sudden realization hit her.
She had fallen asleep completely naked after swallowing Bhola’s cum. And now she was wearing this sundress. There was only one person who could have dressed her.
Bhola.
A small, secret smile curved her lips. She felt a strange warmth in her chest; a mix of embarrassment and something deeper. He had taken care of her so gently while she was unconscious.
Still smiling inwardly, Simran walked downstairs to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner for her husband, her body still tingling from everything that had happened that afternoon.
Simran’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She wiped her hands on a towel and picked it up. It was a message from Ravi:
“Boarded the flight. Landing around 8 PM. Tell Bhola to pick me up by 9 PM.”
She let out a small sigh. Time had flown faster than she expected. It was already 6:30 PM.
She called out toward the kitchen where Bhola was finishing the last touches on dinner.
“Bhola… Ravi flight mein baith chuka hai. Tumhe raat 9 baje airport jaana hai usko pick karne ke liye. Please car ready kar lo.”
“Bhola… Ravi has boarded the flight. You need to leave for the airport by 9 PM to pick him up. Please get the car ready.”
“Ji Bhabhi,” Bhola replied immediately. He wiped his hands and went outside to prepare the car.
Simran continued cooking, her mind already shifting back into “wife mode.” She had almost finished everything; the chicken was simmering, rotis were ready to be made fresh, and the dal was done. The house smelled warm and inviting.
About forty minutes later, Bhola returned. He was sweating from the effort of cleaning and polishing the car in the evening heat. His T-shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, dark patches visible under his arms and across his back. His face was shining with sweat, and a few drops rolled down his neck. Even in this state, he looked strong and masculine.
“Bhabhi, car ready hai,” he said, breathing a little heavily. “Main ab jaake ready ho jaata hoon.”
“Bhabhi, the car is ready,” he said, breathing a little heavily. “I’ll go get ready now.”
Simran nodded, stirring the chicken one last time.
Bhola walked to the fridge, took out a glass of cold water, and drank it in one go. As he placed the empty glass down, he looked at Simran and said casually,
“Bhabhi… aaj sirf ek baar hi doodh piya hai maine. Aapki chuchiyan abhi bhi full hongi. Dard ho raha hoga na? Main kapde change karke aata hoon, phir kuch doodh nikaal deta hoon.”
“Bhabhi… today I have drunk milk only once. Your boobs must still be full. It must be hurting, right? I’ll go change my clothes and then empty some milk for you.”
Without waiting for permission, he stepped behind her, reached around, and cupped both her heavy breasts through the thin sundress. He lifted and squeezed them gently, checking their firmness and weight. They were indeed very full again. Milk immediately started leaking, soaking into the fabric over her nipples.
“Ji Bhabhi… bahut full hain,” he murmured close to her ear. “Main change karke aata hoon aur inhe thoda khali kar deta hoon.”
“Yes Bhabhi… they are very full,” he murmured close to her ear. “I’ll go change and then empty them a little.”
As he turned to leave, his hand slid down and gave her plump ass a light, possessive squeeze; just enough to feel the soft flesh yield under his fingers.
Simran smiled to herself at his bold little action, a warm flutter running through her body. But the smile faded quickly as reality hit her.
What if Ravi was here?
Bhola’s casual grabbing of her boobs and squeezing her ass would be impossible to hide. His actions needed to become much more careful and hidden the moment Ravi returned. The thought made her stomach tighten with anxiety.
She stood there for a moment, spoon in hand, staring at the simmering chicken, her mind racing between the intense pleasure she had experienced with Bhola all day and the terrifying reality of her husband coming home in a few hours.
The house smelled of good food.
But the air felt thick with secrets.
Simran was still catching her breath after the intense orgasm when she looked at Bhola and said softly,
“Jab tum mujhe choosne aao to sirf underwear pehen ke aana kaafi hai. Is tarah aasaan hota hai.”
“Just underwear is good enough when you come to suck me. It’s easier that way.”
Bhola nodded with a small smile and went to change. A minute later he returned wearing only a simple white underwear and a loose T-shirt. The thin fabric of the underwear was already struggling to contain his heavy, semi-hard cock.
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