Adultery NISHA:: A Hot Spy -Female Investigator Officer - Secret mission

[girrich9486]

Kaali laughed—low, delighted, cruel.
“Look, Raghu. Watch carefully how we are going to empty your wife’s milk tanks tonight. Every drop. Until these beautiful breasts are soft and spent and she is begging us to stop… or begging us for more.”
Then she turned back, lifted one heavy breast in both hands, and gently pressed her thumbs on either side of the dark nipple. A fresh bead of milk welled immediately.
“Haaaa… Haa… nooooo……… Haaaaaa……”
The moan that tore from Priya was louder this time, almost a cry. Her back arched involuntarily, pushing the breast deeper into Kaali’s hands. The dual stimulation—Thakur still kneading and rolling the other breast from behind while Kaali worked the first—sent a fresh rush of wetness soaking into the thin cotton of her petticoat.
Thakur’s mouth moved to her ear again, voice rough and commanding.
“Hold your mind, saali. Aaj tumko theek se chodne wale hain. Tumhare pati ke saamne tumko nanga bana ke chodenge. Saali, tere badan mein poori garmi nikal denge. Har boond doodh, har boond pani, har moan—sab nikal denge.”
Both of them laughed then, the sound rich and shared. Thakur released one breast just long enough to raise his hand; Kaali lifted hers and they slapped palms together in a casual high-five, as if they had just agreed on the evening’s entertainment. The casualness of the gesture while their hands were still wet with her milk made Priya’s stomach clench with fresh humiliation.
She squeezed her eyes shut completely.
She could not look at Raghu any longer. She could not watch Kaali’s hungry face or Thakur’s satisfied smirk. The darkness behind her closed lids only made every sensation sharper. The wet heat of Kaali’s breath against one nipple. The firm, rhythmic pressure of Thakur’s fingers on the other. The slow grind of his cock against her ass. The cool air on her exposed skin. The wet patch spreading rapidly between her thighs.
Kaali’s mouth finally closed over the first nipple.
“Ahhh—! Hnnnnhhh… ahhhhh…”
The first strong, deliberate suck drew a long, broken moan from deep in Priya’s throat. Warm milk flowed freely into Kaali’s mouth. She swallowed audibly, then sucked harder, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive peak while her hand continued to squeeze and massage the soft flesh, encouraging more. The wet, rhythmic sounds of suckling filled the quiet room—obscene, intimate, impossible to ignore.
Thakur watched over Priya’s shoulder for a moment, then lowered his own mouth to the second breast. He latched on with equal hunger, drawing hard, the dual suction making Priya’s knees threaten to buckle. Only his strong arm locked around her waist kept her upright.
“Ahhh… ahhhh… nooo… hnnn… ahhhhhh…”
Her moans grew longer, more frequent, spilling out with every strong pull of their mouths. Milk ran down both chins. Some of it dripped onto the floor. Some of it painted shiny trails down the soft undersides of her breasts. Kaali’s free hand slid lower, palm pressing flat against Priya’s lower belly, fingers spreading just above the waistband of the petticoat, feeling the fine tremors that raced through the soft flesh.
Thakur’s hand mirrored the motion on the other side, both of them holding her steady while they drank. Every few seconds one of them would release the nipple with a soft, wet pop, only to lick the leaking tip slowly, then suckle again. Each time the nipple left a warm mouth Priya whimpered; each time it was taken back in she moaned louder.
“Listen to her,” Thakur said between long pulls, voice slightly muffled against her skin. “Already sounding like a proper slut. And we haven’t even touched her cunt yet.”
Kaali hummed in agreement, the vibration sending another spike of sensation straight through Priya’s breast. She pulled off just long enough to speak, lips shiny with milk.
“Her husband is watching every second. Look at him, Priya. Open your eyes for a moment and see how hard he is while strangers empty your milk tanks.”
Priya shook her head frantically, eyes still screwed shut, but Thakur’s hand left her breast and gently—firmly—turned her face toward the cot.
“Open them,” he ordered quietly.
She obeyed.....










Raghu’s face was wet with silent tears of rage and pain. His cock stood thick and leaking against his stomach, abandoned and untouched. His eyes were locked on the exact place where Kaali’s and Thakur’s mouths were attached to his wife’s breasts. The sight of the milk and the wet sounds seemed to hurt him physically.
Kaali smiled at him over the curve of Priya’s breast, then deliberately, slowly, pressed her tongue flat against the nipple and dragged it upward, collecting a fresh bead of milk before swallowing with an exaggerated sound of pleasure.
“Haaaaaa… ahhh… please…”
The word slipped out of Priya before she could stop it. Please what? Please stop? Please continue? Even she no longer knew. Her body was shaking harder now, fine continuous tremors that made her breasts quiver in their mouths. The petticoat between her legs was soaked through; every small shift of her thighs produced a soft, wet sound.
Thakur released her nipple with a final hard suck that made her cry out, then licked the tip clean.
“We are only getting started, saali. These tanks are still full. And after we finish the milk… then we start on the rest of you.”
Kaali nodded, already latching back onto the other breast, sucking greedily. Thakur’s hands returned to both breasts, squeezing them upward into their waiting mouths, forcing more milk to flow. The dual pressure and dual suction turned Priya’s moans into a continuous, broken stream.
“Ahhh… ahhhhh… hnnnnhhh… ahhh… nooo… ahhhhhh…”
Her head fell back against Thakur’s shoulder again. Tears streamed freely down her temples into her hair. Her hips had begun to move in tiny, involuntary circles, grinding her soaked cunt against nothing, desperate for friction she was not yet being given. Thakur felt the movement and chuckled darkly against her skin.
“Feel that, Kaali? She is already trying to fuck the air. Her body knows what it needs even if her mind is still fighting.”
Kaali only hummed again, the sound vibrating through Priya’s breast and drawing another long, shuddering moan. She shifted slightly on her knees, one hand sliding down to cup the heavy underside of the breast she was nursing while the other reached around to find Priya’s free hand. She laced their fingers together and squeezed—almost gently—before returning both hands to the work of milking.
Minutes stretched. The wet sounds of suckling and the rising volume of Priya’s moans filled the room. Milk continued to flow, slower now but still steady, each strong pull drawing fresh beads and soft, broken cries. Thakur and Kaali switched breasts several times, making sure both were thoroughly drained and thoroughly stimulated. Whenever one of them paused to speak, the other kept working, ensuring there was never a moment of relief.
“Your husband never made you leak like this, did he?” Thakur asked against her ear between long pulls. “Never made these pretty nipples give milk just from being sucked. Only we can do that for you, saali. Only we know how to empty you properly.”
“Ahhh… ahhhhh… please… hnnn…”
Priya’s voice had gone high and thin. Her eyes were still closed again, lashes wet. Her entire body shivered in continuous waves. The petticoat clung to her like a second skin, the wet cotton outlining the soft mound of her cunt and the cleft of her ass with obscene clarity. Every time Thakur’s cock ground against her from behind she pushed back the smallest bit, seeking more pressure even as her mind screamed at her to stop.
Kaali finally released the nipple with a soft, satisfied sigh, licking her lips clean. A thin string of milk still connected her lower lip to the shiny, swollen peak for a second before it broke.
“Still some left,” she observed, giving the breast a gentle final squeeze that produced one last bead. “But we can come back for the rest later. Right now I want to see the rest of her.”
Thakur nodded. His hands left Priya’s breasts only long enough to find the drawstring of her petticoat. He tugged once. The knot gave. The thin cotton began to slide down over the soft curve of her hips.
Priya’s eyes flew open again.
“No— ahhh— wait—”
The protest dissolved into another moan as the petticoat pooled at her feet. She stood completely naked now, milk still beading on her nipples, thighs shiny with her own arousal, the soft dark curls between her legs already soaked and parted slightly from the constant trembling.
Thakur’s hands returned immediately, one cupping a breast again, the other sliding down over her stomach, past the deep oval navel and the small black mole, until his fingers brushed the wet heat of her cunt.
“Ahhh—! Haaaaaa…”
The single touch against her swollen clit made her knees buckle. Only his arm around her waist kept her upright. Kaali, still on her knees, leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the soft underside of one breast, then lower, tongue tracing the faint trail of milk that had run down toward her navel.
Both of them laughed softly again when Priya’s hips jerked forward, seeking more contact.
“See?” Thakur said, voice dark with satisfaction. “She is ready. Completely ready. And her husband is still just watching.”
He turned Priya slightly so Raghu had an unobstructed view of her naked, trembling body—milk-wet breasts, shiny thighs, the glistening pink of her cunt just visible between her legs.
“Look well, Raghu,” Thakur called across the short distance. “This is what your wife looks like when she is about to be properly fucked. Milk on her tits, juice on her thighs, and not a single piece of cloth left to hide behind.”
Kaali rose to her feet, wiped a last drop of milk from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and then slowly, deliberately, licked it clean while staring straight at Raghu.
Priya’s eyes were closed once more. Her body continued to shiver. Soft, continuous moans still escaped her parted lips every time Thakur’s fingers brushed her clit or squeezed a breast. She was beyond coherent speech, beyond coherent thought. Only sensation remained—hot mouths, strong hands, the thick promise of the cock still pressed against her ass, and the helpless knowledge that her husband could do nothing but watch while two strangers finished what they had started.
Thakur’s fingers finally slipped between her folds, finding her soaked and open.
“Ahhh… ahhhhhh… hnnnnhhh…”
The moan that left her was the longest yet—high, broken, almost a sob of pure overwhelmed pleasure. Her hips pushed forward hard against his hand. Kaali’s mouth returned to one breast, sucking strongly again, drawing a fresh trickle of milk even as Thakur’s thick finger began to push slowly inside her.
The room filled once more with the wet sounds of suckling, the soft obscene noise of a finger sliding into a dripping cunt, and the rising, continuous chorus of Priya’s moans.
They were only just beginning to empty her.
And the night was still very young.....