[doodhwale_bhaiya]

From the stairs, Simran’s eyes narrowed. She had heard enough.
 
Just as Bhola’s hands hesitantly moved toward the hem of his T-shirt, Simran’s voice cut through the room, calm but firm.
 
“Bhola.”
 
Both of them turned.
 
Simran walked down the remaining stairs with a composed smile, as if she had just come from a normal bath. Her light blue sundress looked perfectly decent and proper.
 
“Preeti ke liye do cup coffee bana do,” she said smoothly. “Aur thoda snacks bhi nikaal dena.”
“Make two cups of coffee for Preeti,” she said smoothly. “And take out some snacks as well.”
 
Bhola immediately stood up, clearly relieved.
 
“Ji Bhabhi.”
 
Simran walked straight to Preeti and pulled her into a warm hug.
 
“Arre Preeti… kitni der se baithi ho. Main late ho gayi. Aao upstairs… baat karte hain properly.”
“Arre Preeti… how long have you been sitting? I got late. Come upstairs… let’s talk properly.”
 
Preeti hugged her back, though there was a flicker of mild disappointment in her eyes.
“Haan… theek hai.”
 
Simran kept her arm around Preeti’s waist and guided her toward the stairs. As Preeti climbed ahead of her, the short frock clung tightly to her hips. With every step, the soft, round curves of her ass became more visible under the thin fabric — almost fully outlined, but not quite exposed. The material stretched and shifted with her movements, teasing just enough.
 
Bhola, standing near the kitchen doorway, watched for a second. His eyes followed the movement of Preeti’s ass as she went up. But his mind was still half-dazed from the earlier session with Simran. His cock remained rock hard inside his pants, throbbing from the unfinished tension and Preeti’s teasing, yet he didn’t overthink it. He simply turned and went to make the coffee as instructed.
 
Upstairs, Simran’s expression remained calm, but inside, a quiet possessiveness was burning.
 
She had interrupted just in time.
 
 
The moment the two women stepped into the bedroom, Preeti’s senses sharpened.
 
Simran looked freshly bathed — her skin glowing, hair still slightly damp at the ends, the faint clean scent of jasmine soap clinging to her. It was odd. People didn’t usually bathe this late in the evening unless something had happened. Preeti’s eyes flicked over her friend once, but she didn’t comment.
 
Then the smell hit her.
 
It was subtle at first, almost hidden beneath the jasmine, but it was there — warm, musky, masculine, and deeply familiar. Preeti’s nostrils flared slightly. She knew this smell. She had breathed it in before, closely, when she had stood just a few feet away watching Shikha get fucked. That thick, heavy scent of an aroused, unsatisfied cock that had been forced to stop mid-session. The kind of scent that stayed in a room long after the man left.
 
Her mind flashed back without warning.
 
Arjun’s thick cock driving into Shikha. The wet sounds. The way Shikha’s body had jerked with every thrust. And Preeti standing right there, watching, her own thighs pressed tightly together because she had wanted that cock so badly herself. She remembered how wet she had been that day. How her fingers had itched to touch herself while watching. How relieved she had felt later when Shikha’s pregnancy test came back negative.
 
Now she had a chance.
 
And the cock she wanted wasn’t Arjun’s anymore.
 
It was Bhola’s.
 
The same heavy, dark, veiny monster she had only glimpsed in outline through wet trousers earlier. The same one Simran had clearly just been riding. The bed looked freshly made — too neat for this time of evening — but Preeti’s mind was already racing past that detail. The smell was intoxicating. It made her clit throb faintly inside her short frock.
 
She turned slowly and looked at Simran.
 
Simran was standing near the bed, still looking composed on the outside, but Preeti could see the truth in her eyes. Simran was dripping of sex. Even after multiple orgasms, her body still carried that restless, unfinished hunger. Her nipples were faintly visible against the soft fabric of the sundress. Her lips were slightly swollen. And the way she kept shifting her weight told Preeti everything — Simran still needed more. She still needed that cock inside her again.
 
Preeti’s own short frock clung to her body as she sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs deliberately high. The fabric rode up, exposing the smooth curve of her thighs. She knew how she looked. Sexy. Available. Ready.
 
She smiled at Simran, her voice soft and casual, but her eyes darker than before.
 
“You smell… different today,” Preeti said quietly, tilting her head. “Like you’ve been busy.”
 
Simran’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind her eyes.
 
Preeti leaned back on her hands, her breasts pushing forward against the tight neckline of her frock. The smell in the room was still working on her, making her think of thick, heavy cock and the possibility of finally getting what she had been craving.
 
She wanted Bhola’s cock.
 
And from the way Simran was looking at her, Simran knew it too.
 
The air in the bedroom was thick with tension.
 
Simran sat on the edge of the bed, still feeling the dull, satisfying ache between her legs from Bhola’s thick cock stretching her open just a short while ago. Her pussy was still soft and used, a faint wetness lingering on her thighs despite the bath. Every time she shifted, she could feel the memory of that heavy, veiny shaft sliding in and out of her. She hadn’t wanted Preeti here. Not now. Not when she was still unfinished, still hungry for more of that monster.
 
Preeti, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. She sat with her legs crossed high, the short frock riding up her smooth thighs, the faint scent of the room still working on her.
 
“Ravi kahan hai?” Preeti asked casually, glancing around.
 
Simran kept her voice steady.
 
“He’s gone to Bangalore. He’ll be back tomorrow evening. There was a meeting.”
 
Preeti nodded, then looked at her more carefully.
 
“And you? How are you?”
 
The question was simple, but the way Preeti’s eyes moved over Simran’s freshly bathed face and slightly swollen lips made it clear she suspected something. Simran forced a small smile.
 
“I’m fine. Just… a little tired.”
 
Preeti didn’t push further. Instead, she reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and unlocked it. She turned the screen toward Simran.