[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Ravi’s flight to Korea would take roughly sixteen hours. That meant he would land around 3 am India time, which was about 11:30 pm in Korea. For now, the house was completely theirs.
 
Simran walked into the dining area and looked at Bhola.
 
“Bhola, dinner laga do.”
“Bhola, serve the dinner.”
 
He nodded and quickly laid out the food — roti, sabzi, dal, and a simple salad. When everything was ready, Simran sat down at the table and looked at him.
 
“Jab main akeli hoti hoon ghar pe… toh tu mere saath table pe baith ke kha. Please.”
“When I’m alone at home… then sit with me at the table and eat. Please.”
 
Bhola hesitated.
 
“Bhabhi… theek nahi lagta.”
“Bhabhi… it doesn’t feel right.”
 
“Baith ja,” she said more firmly. “Main akeli nahi khaungi.”
“Sit down,” she said more firmly. “I won’t eat alone.”
 
Finally he gave in and sat opposite her. They started eating in silence. The only sounds were the soft clink of plates and the quiet evening outside.
 
Halfway through the meal, Simran suddenly stood up with her plate. She walked around the table and stopped beside Bhola’s chair.
 
“Thoda peeche karo chair.”
“Move the chair a little back.”
 
Bhola looked up, surprised, but did as she asked. The moment he pushed the chair back a little, Simran carefully sat down on his lap, settling her soft ass against his thighs. Her sundress rode up slightly as she adjusted herself.
 
Bhola’s eyes widened for a second, then a slow smile spread across his face. He could feel the warm weight of her body pressing down on him. His cock, which had been half-hard ever since she came downstairs, immediately began to thicken under her.
 
“Bhabhi… left side pe baith jao. Main bhi kha paunga.”
“Bhabhi… sit on the left side. Then I can also eat.”
 
Simran shifted, sliding over to his left thigh. Now she was perched sideways on his leg, her soft body pressed against his side. Bhola’s left arm naturally went around her waist. His large hand rested on her soft belly, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric of the sundress. He gave her belly a small, possessive squeeze.
 
Simran squirmed slightly on his lap, a soft breath escaping her lips. She could feel the thick shape of his cock pressing against her thigh through his pants. Even after everything they had done earlier, he was already hard again.
 
She tore a small piece of roti, dipped it lightly, and brought it to her own lips. Then she turned her face toward him, the soft piece of roti still held between her lips.
 
Bhola understood immediately.
 
He leaned in and bit the roti from her mouth. As his teeth closed around the soft bread, his lips brushed against hers — warm, deliberate, and lingering. The kiss was slow and filthy in its own quiet way. He didn’t pull back immediately. He stayed there, tasting the roti and her mouth at the same time, while his hand on her belly gave another gentle squeeze.
 
Simran’s eyes fluttered for a second. She could feel his cock twitch hard against her thigh.
 
The dinner had turned into something else entirely.
 
The soft kiss over the piece of roti deepened.
 
Bhola’s left hand slid slowly upward from Simran’s soft belly. His large palm closed over her left breast through the sundress and gave it a firm, possessive squeeze. The heavy, warm flesh filled his hand completely. He could feel the structured resistance of a bra underneath the thin fabric.
 
He didn’t like that.
 
While his mouth stayed locked with hers, his hand slipped behind her back. His fingers found the clasp of her bra through the sundress and, with practiced ease, unhooked it in one smooth motion. The sudden release of pressure made Simran’s eyes open wide in surprise. A soft, muffled moan escaped into his mouth, but she didn’t pull away. She kept kissing him, her breathing growing heavier.
 
Bhola’s hand came back around to the front. Through the soft material of the sundress he caught the loosened bra cup and pulled it downward, freeing her left breast completely. The heavy, soft mound spilled free under the fabric. He did the same to the right side, tugging the other cup down until both of her gigantic, milk-heavy tits were bare beneath the thin sundress.
 
His fingers immediately found her left nipple.
 
He pinched it lightly between his thumb and forefinger — just enough pressure to send a sharp spark of pleasure through her.
 
“Aaahhh…!” Simran moaned loudly against his lips, her body jerking slightly on his lap.
 
She finally broke the kiss, breathing hard. Her face was flushed, eyes dark with arousal.
 
“Bhola… tu bahut naughty ho gaya hai,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “Dinner bhi khatam nahi hua… aur tu yeh sab shuru kar deta hai.”
“Bhola… you have become very naughty,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “Dinner isn’t even finished yet… and you start all this.”
 
Bhola smiled, his fingers still gently rolling her thick, sensitive nipple under the sundress. His cock was now fully hard and throbbing heavily against her right thigh — thick, long, and growing even harder with every second she stayed on his lap.
 
“Bhabhi… yeh mera dinner hai,” he said in a low, hungry voice. “Main aapko hi khaane wala hoon.”
“Bhabhi… this is my dinner,” he said in a low, hungry voice. “I’m going to eat you only.”
 
Simran’s breath hitched. She could feel every thick inch of his cock pressing against her thigh, hot and insistent even through his pants. Her pussy gave a small, involuntary clench at his words.