[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Simran’s free hand clenched against the floor. A soft, shaky breath escaped her before she could stop it.
 
“Mmm… haan… main theek hoon. Ghar mein koi problem nahi.”
“Mmm… yes… I’m fine. There’s no problem at home.”
 
Bhola switched to the right breast without releasing the left from his grip. He sucked even harder, making wet, filthy gulping sounds as milk filled his mouth. He would pull the soft, heavy flesh outward with his lips, stretching the nipple, then release it with a wet pop only to attack it again. Milk leaked from the corners of his mouth and ran down his chin. Her breasts swayed and jiggled with every aggressive pull. The waist chain shifted against her belly each time her body reacted.
 
Jasleen kept talking.
 
“Achha sun, maine socha tha diwali pe tum log Bangalore aa jao. Bachchon ko bhi mausi se milna hai. Ravi ka schedule dekh ke bata dena. Aur haan, us Korea wali company ka kya scene hai? Bahut badi deal lag rahi thi.”
“Listen, I was thinking you all should come to Bangalore for Diwali. The kids want to meet their mausi too. Check Ravi’s schedule and tell me. And yes, what’s the scene with that Korea company? It seemed like a very big deal.”
 
Simran’s voice came out a little breathier than before.
 
“Haan… dekhte hain. Ravi wapas aake clear karega. Abhi toh flight mein hi hoga.”
“Yes… we’ll see. Ravi will make it clear after he comes back. Right now he must be on the flight.”
 
After several long minutes of noisily draining milk from both tits, Bhola slid out from under her. He moved around to the front. His massive, dark cock was still rock hard, the thick head shiny with leftover precum and her earlier saliva. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, tilted her face up, and pushed the fat cock head straight past her lips.
 
Simran’s eyes widened slightly. The thick, salty head stretched her mouth open. She tried to keep talking around it.
 
“Mmmph… haan… ghar mein sab normal hai… mmm… koi special baat nahi…”
“Mmmph… yes… everything at home is normal… mmm… nothing special…”
 
Bhola kept only the head inside her mouth, resting it heavily on her tongue. With both hands he reached under her and grabbed her hanging breasts again. He began mauling them roughly — squeezing the soft, milk-heavy flesh, lifting them, letting them drop and bounce, pinching the wet nipples between his fingers while she tried to form words around his cock. Every time he squeezed hard, a fresh bead of milk would appear and run down. Her voice stayed muffled and uneven.
 
“Mmm… Jasleen… main… mmmph… baad mein call karti hoon na… abhi… thoda kaam hai…”
“Mmm… Jasleen… I’ll… mmmph… call you later na… right now… I have some work…”
 
Jasleen, still oblivious, continued.
 
“Arre ruk ja yaar. Main toh pooch rahi thi ki Bhola theek se kaam kar raha hai na? Kabhi-kabhi servants se problem ho jaati hai. Aur haan, Ravi ne kaha tha uski meeting kuch AI wali company se hai… soft porn type something? Tune detail mein poocha?”
“Arre wait yaar. I was asking if Bhola is working properly, right? Sometimes there are problems with servants. And yes, Ravi said his meeting is with some AI company… soft porn type something? Did you ask in detail?”
 
Bhola slowly pulled his cock out of her mouth. A thick string of saliva followed the dark head before breaking and falling onto her chin and then her hanging left breast. He moved behind her again without a word.
 
Simran stayed on all fours, phone still to her ear, trying to steady her breathing.
 
“Haan… usne thoda bataya tha. Bahut confidential hai. Main zyada detail mein nahi jaati.”
“Yes… he told me a little. It’s very confidential. I don’t go into too much detail.”
 
Behind her, Bhola gripped his thick cock at the base and brought the swollen, dark head to her dripping pussy. He didn’t push inside. Instead he began rubbing the fat, hot head up and down through her swollen, wet folds — slow, deliberate strokes that spread her pussy lips open. Every pass of the thick head over her clit and entrance made more clear juice leak out of her. It ran down in thin streams over her puffy lips, along her inner thighs, and dripped onto the floor beneath her. She was leaking like a tap now — continuous, sticky, and shameless.
 
Simran’s voice caught hard.
 
“Mmm… a-aaisa hi hai. Main… main baad mein detail mein baat karti hoon. Abhi thoda… busy hoon.”
“Mmm… y-yes like that. I’ll… I’ll talk in detail later. Right now I’m a bit… busy.”
 
Bhola kept rubbing. The heavy cock head would catch at her entrance, stretch it slightly, then slide upward again, smearing her own juices all over the dark, veiny shaft. Her pussy clenched and fluttered every time the thick ridge of the head passed over her most sensitive spots. More juice kept flowing, making wet, filthy sounds as he stroked himself against her open cunt.
 
Jasleen was still talking on the other end — something about the kids’ college, Rajiv’s late nights, and whether Simran had thought about coming for a longer visit next month. The conversation continued, ordinary and sisterly, while Simran remained on her hands and knees with her servant’s massive cock head slowly rubbing up and down her shamelessly leaking pussy, milk still drying on her hanging breasts, and the waist chain cool against her flushed skin.
 
She had not finished the call.
 
And Bhola had not stopped.