Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

He sat near her feet and poured a little warm oil on his palms. He began with her toes — massaging each one gently, rolling them between his fingers, pressing the pads with his thumbs. The sensation was electric. Simran let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing despite herself.
 
He moved up to her shins, his strong hands gliding over her smooth skin, kneading the muscles with slow, firm strokes. Every press sent warm tingles up her legs.
 
Then he reached her upper thighs. His hands worked the soft, squishy flesh with deep, deliberate pressure — thumbs circling, palms rubbing upward. The sundress had ridden up dangerously high, almost exposing the lower curve of her ass.
 
Simran’s breathing grew heavier. She buried her face in the pillow, trying to stay calm.
 
Suddenly, Bhola stopped at her thighs. He moved up and sat near her head instead. He poured more oil and started massaging her scalp and forehead with slow, hypnotic circles. His fingers pressed gently into her temples, then moved through her hair, rubbing her scalp in rhythmic motions.
 
Simran’s eyes fluttered closed. She felt dreamy, almost floating.
 
“Palat jaiye, Bhabhi,”
“Turn around, Bhabhi,” he whispered after a few minutes.
 
Almost in a trance, Simran turned onto her back. The sundress shifted, riding even higher on her thighs.
 
Bhola’s hands moved to her neck, massaging the sides and base with firm but gentle pressure. His thumbs worked the tight muscles there, making her sigh softly.
 
After a while, he paused.
 
“Bhabhi… dress utaar do. Iske andar massage mushkil ho raha hai. Oil lagane mein dikkat hogi.”
“Bhabhi… take off your dress. It’s difficult to massage properly with it on. It will be hard to apply oil.”
 
Simran’s eyes opened. She looked at him with a mix of shyness and playful accusation.
 
“Bhola… tum bahut badmash ho. Tum chahte the ki main dress utaar doon aur mujhe sharminda feel kara do, hai na?”
“Bhola… you are naughty. You wanted me to take off my dress and make me feel shameful, didn’t you?”
 
Bhola smiled innocently, but his eyes were dark with desire.
 
“Bhabhi… sirf massage ke liye. Aap comfortable feel karengi.”
“Bhabhi… only for the massage. You will feel comfortable.”
 
Simran hesitated for a long second, then gave in. She sat up slightly and let Bhola help her pull the sundress up and over her head. The thin fabric slid off her body, leaving her completely naked except for her small white panties.
 
She lay back down on her stomach, her heart pounding, her full, round ass and smooth back now completely exposed to him.
 
Bhola poured more oil on his hands and started again — this time on her neck and shoulders, his strong fingers working the muscles with slow, deliberate strokes. The scent of the oil filled the room as his hands glided over her bare skin.
 
Simran closed her eyes, trying to relax, but her body was already humming with anticipation.
 
Bhola’s hands moved like a dream over Simran’s body.
 
She was already slipping into a deep trance, her breathing slow and heavy as his strong, oiled palms glided over her bare back. The fragrant oil — sweet almond blended with vanilla, sandalwood, ylang-ylang, and clary sage — filled the room with a warm, intoxicating scent. His fingers pressed firmly into her shoulder blades, then moved down her spine in long, deliberate strokes, working out every knot with perfect pressure. Simran let out a soft, dreamy sigh, her body melting into the mattress.
 
“Ummmm… Bhola… yeh bahut achha lag raha hai…”
“Ummmm… Bhola… this feels really good…”, she murmured, her voice thick with relaxation.
 
Bhola smiled quietly and continued. He moved down to her feet, pouring more warm oil on his palms. He started massaging her toes one by one, rolling them gently between his fingers, pressing the pads with his thumbs. The sensation was electric. Simran giggled and squirmed as he hit the ticklish spots.
 
“Bhola… hehe… ruk… itna mat kar… tickle ho raha hai…”
“Bhola… hehe… stop… don’t do so much… it’s tickling…”
 
But he didn’t stop. He moved up to her calves, his large hands kneading the plump, milky-white flesh. Her calves were soft yet firm, a perfect blend of femininity and subtle muscle. He worked them thoroughly, thumbs digging in slow circles, making her moan softly into the pillow.
 
Then he reached her thighs.
 
Those milky, soft, squishy thighs — the Gods’ own land. Thick, creamy, and impossibly smooth. Bhola’s fingers sank into the plush flesh, massaging with deep, sensual strokes. He worked the inner thighs slowly, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to her pussy with every upward glide. Simran’s breathing grew heavier, her body starting to respond despite herself.
 
Bhola paused for a moment at the lower curve of her ass. He reached for a pillow, slid his left hand under her flat belly, and gently lifted her hips. He placed the pillow beneath her stomach, raising her plump ass higher into the air. Simran didn’t protest. She stayed silent, her heart racing.
 
He returned behind her and started pressing on her lower back and waist with slow, firm pushes. His hands moved lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of her small white panties. Very slowly, very deliberately, he pulled the thin fabric down until it was nestled just above her ass crack.
 
Simran’s breath hitched.
 
Then, in one swift but smooth motion, Bhola tugged her panties all the way down to her knees, completely exposing her beautiful, milky-white ass and her glistening pussy.
 
Simran suddenly realized what had happened. She had been almost dozing off in pleasure, but now she jolted awake.
 
“Bhola… no!” she cried out, trying to reach back and grab her panties.
“Kya kar rahe ho?!”
“What are you doing?!”
 
But Bhola was stronger. He gently but firmly caught both her wrists and held them for a moment, then pulled the panties completely off her legs and placed them neatly on the side of the bed.
 
“Bhabhi… fikar mat kijiye. Aapke panties oil se kharab ho jayengi. Aap relax rahiye… aapko bahut aaram milega.”
“Bhabhi… don’t worry. Your panties will get ruined by the oil. You just relax… you will feel very comfortable.”
 
Simran’s protests were weak, her voice shaky.
 
“Bhola… yeh galat hai… aaahh…”
“Bhola…this is wrong…. aaahh…”
 
Bhola didn’t reply. He poured more oil on his hands and started massaging her ass globes. Those plump, heart-shaped cheeks were pure heaven — soft like warm dough, yet firm enough to bounce back beautifully with every press. His large palms covered each cheek completely, squeezing, kneading, and spreading them slightly as he worked the oil deep into the flesh. The cheeks jiggled like jelly every time he released them, only to snap back into their perfect, round shape.
 
Simran felt a rush of blood through her entire body. Her pussy was getting wetter by the second.
 
“Bhola… tum bahot badmash ho… aaahhh… yeh kya kar rahe ho… mere peeche haath laga rahe ho…”
“Bhola… you are very naughty… aaahhh… what are you doing… you’re touching my ass…”