Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Aaahhhhhhh…!” Simran squeaked loudly, her body jerking in his lap as he sucked hard.
 
He pulled on her nipple with powerful, long sucks, drawing thick streams of warm milk straight into his mouth. The wet, greedy sounds filled the room — loud, filthy slurps mixed with Simran’s broken moans.
 
“Ummmm… gluck… slurrrrp… mmmphhh…”
 
Simran’s hand came to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair as she pressed him harder against her tit.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhola… tu hamesha meri chuchiyan choosta rehta hai… aaahhh… dekh na… teri wajah se yeh dono itni badi aur bhari ho gayi hain… pehle se bhi zyada soft aur moti ho gayi hain… aaahhh… choos le… pi le mera doodh…”
“Aaahhh… Bhola… you always keep sucking my boobs… aaahhh… look… because of you both have become so big and heavy… much softer and thicker than before… aaahhh… suck… drink my milk…”
 
Hearing her words made Bhola even more aggressive. He squeezed the soft, jelly-like flesh of her right breast hard, forcing more milk to spray into his mouth. Then he released the right one with a wet pop and immediately scooped out her left breast as well.
 
Now both of her massive tits were fully out, hanging heavily over the bunched-up frock. The shoulder straps were stuck around her upper arms, squeezing her breasts together and pushing them forward like an obscene offering — two huge, soft, milky-white melons presented perfectly for him.
 
Her breasts were breathtaking. Heavy yet incredibly soft, like warm jelly that jiggled and swayed with every movement. The skin was smooth and creamy, with faint blue veins visible under the surface. Her dark, thick nipples were fully erect and glistening, leaking tiny white beads of milk even when not being sucked. Each time Bhola pulled hard on one, the entire breast stretched forward into a lewd cone shape before bouncing back heavily when he released it.
 
Bhola switched between them like a man possessed — sucking one nipple deep and hard while mauling the other with his strong hand, pinching and tugging the nipple, making milk spray across his face and her chest.
 
“Slurrrrp… gluck… aaahhh Bhabhi… aapki chuchiyan itni soft aur rasili hain… doodh itna meetha aur garam… main inko din bhar choos sakta hoon…”
“Slurrrrp… gluck… aaahhh Bhabhi… your boobs are so soft and juicy… the milk is so sweet and warm… I can suck them the whole day…”
 
Simran was moaning continuously, her head thrown back, hips grinding slowly on his lap.
 
“Yes Bhola… drink my milk… pi le sab… aaahhh… choos le zor se… meri badi-badi chuchiyan teri hain… aaahhh… finish them… pi le pura doodh… aaahhh… tu inko aur bada kar dega aise choos ke…”
“Yes Bhola… drink my milk… drink it all… aaahhh… suck hard… my big-big boobs are yours… aaahhh… finish them… drink all the milk… aaahhh… you’ll make them even bigger by sucking like this…”
 
Her breasts were getting redder from his rough sucking and squeezing. The nipples were swollen and even darker now, extremely sensitive. Every hard pull made her squeak and moan, her pussy leaking fresh cream onto the front of his pants as she rubbed herself against his trapped, rock-hard cock.
 
Bhola kept switching rapidly — sucking one tit deep into his mouth, cheeks hollowing with the force, then moving to the other, leaving the previous nipple shiny, wet, and leaking. Milk was running down his chin, dripping onto his chest, and coating Simran’s stomach.
 
He was drinking from her like he wanted to empty her completely.
 
And Simran was lost in the filthy pleasure of it, pressing her leaking tits harder into his hungry mouth.
 
Simran was breathing hard, her heavy breasts heaving as Bhola sucked hungrily on her left nipple. Milk was flowing freely into his mouth, but she suddenly forced his head back, dislodging him from her swollen, sensitive nipple with a wet pop.
 
“Bhola… bas… ab wait kar,” she said, her voice shaky but firm. She stood up from his lap on trembling legs, pulling the straps of her short frock back up over her shoulders. Her breasts were still out for a moment, red and glistening with his spit and her milk, before she adjusted the fabric to cover them.
 
“Humein khana pakana bhi hai aur khana bhi. Yeh aise nahi chalega. Tu har baar aise hi shuru kar deta hai… meri chuchiyan choosne lag jaata hai. Yeh mujhe bahut wet kar deta hai… main control nahi kar paati.”
“We need to cook and eat also. This can’t go on like this. You always start like this… the moment you start sucking my boobs. It makes me so wet… I can’t control myself.”
 
 
The moment she said that, Bhola’s eyes darkened again. He dropped to his knees right in front of her, lifted the hem of her short frock, and stared at her completely bare, dripping pussy. Her swollen pink lips were glistening with thick, creamy white juices, some of it already trickling down her inner thighs.
 
He reached out with one finger, clearly intending to push it inside her soaked hole.
 
Simran quickly stepped back and pushed his hand away.
 
“Nahi Bhola… ab nahi. Agar tu ab karega toh main khud ko rok nahi paungi. Control kar. Please.”
“No Bhola… not now. If you do it now, I won’t be able to stop myself. Control it. Please.”
 
Bhola looked up at her with guilty but hungry eyes.
 
“Sorry Bhabhi… main phir se control nahi kar paaya.”
“Sorry Bhabhi… I couldn’t control myself again.”
 
Simran sighed softly, still breathing heavily.
 
“It’s okay. Lekin promise kar mujhe… tu control karega. Jab bhi main bolun, tabhi touch karega. Samjha?”
“It’s okay. But promise me… you will control yourself. You will touch only when I say. Understood?”
 
Bhola nodded obediently.
 
“Ji Bhabhi… main promise karta hoon.”
 
Simran smiled a little, still flushed.
 
“Ab dekh… maine jo kaha tha na… aaj raat tu woh karna jo maine bola tha. Mujhe dard mat dena jab tu andar daalega. Dheere-dheere karna. Videos dekh lena samajhne ke liye.”
“Now listen… what I told you… tonight you have to do what I said. Don’t hurt me when you put it inside. Do it slowly. Watch videos to understand.”
 
She leaned down, held his face with both hands, and kissed him softly at first, then deeper. Bhola returned the kiss hungrily, their tongues meeting again for a long, passionate smooch. They stayed like that for a good minute — kissing, tasting each other, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths — before Simran finally pulled back.
 
“Ab chalo… kaam karte hain.”
“Now come… let’s get to work.”
 
She adjusted her frock properly, covering her breasts and ass as much as the short dress allowed, and went to the kitchen. Bhola followed quietly.
 
For the next couple of hours, they cooked lunch together. Surprisingly, there was no hanky-panky. No sudden grabbing of breasts, no lifting of the frock, no sneaky touches. Bhola remained respectful and focused on helping her — chopping vegetables, stirring pots, and staying on his side of the counter. Simran felt a strange mix of relief and slight disappointment at how well he was controlling himself.
 
They ate lunch quietly. After eating, Simran felt extremely tired and drained from the intense morning.
 
“Main thora rest lene jar ahi hu,”
“I’m going to rest for some time,” she told him softly.
 
Bhola nodded.