Yesterday, 04:21 PM
Dharma’s hands moved to the yellow chiffon saree still hanging from my wife’s arm. He unwound it slowly, the yellow chiffon saree sliding free, and let it drop to the floor in a soft heap beside her feet. She stood against the door in only the yellow blouse and the white petticoat, the white petticoat clinging to her waist and hips. Her arms hung at her sides, fingers curled tight. A deep flush spread across her chest and neck.
He stepped back half a pace and looked at her, eyes moving over the yellow blouse stretched across her breasts, the stiff points of her nipples clear beneath the yellow blouse, then down to the white petticoat hugging the curve of her hips and the soft line of her waist. His wet lips parted further.
“Beautiful,” he said, voice low. “Even like this.”
My wife turned her face away, eyes squeezing shut, shame burning hot on her skin. Her shoulders drew in. She crossed her arms loosely over the yellow blouse for a moment, then let them fall again, remembering she was not allowed to hold back.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, voice thick. “Please.”
Dharma ignored the words. He stepped in again and kissed her lips, slower this time, tongue sliding into her mouth. She hesitated, a small sound of distaste catching in her throat, then parted her lips and kissed him back, tears still wet on her cheeks. While his mouth stayed on hers his hands settled on her waist, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just above the white petticoat.
He broke the kiss and sank to his knees in front of her. His thick hands pushed the white petticoat a little lower on her hips, baring the smooth skin of her waist and the small dip of her navel. He leaned forward and pressed his wet lips to her navel, kissing it openly, tongue flicking once against the sensitive skin. My wife’s stomach tightened hard. A sharp breath left her. Her hands flew to his shoulders as if to push him away, then stopped and simply rested there, fingers digging into his shirt.
“Don’t,” she said, voice shaking, head tipped back against the door. “I hate this.”
Her body answered anyway. Her waist trembled under his mouth. Her thighs pressed together inside the white petticoat. Another involuntary shiver ran through her as he kissed lower along the soft skin of her belly, lips wet and unhurried. She kept her eyes shut, tears slipping free, mouth parted, hating every second while her stomach fluttered and her nipples stayed stiff and aching beneath the yellow blouse.
From the window I watched, cock throbbing painfully against my zipper, breath caught in my throat. The sight of her standing there in the yellow blouse and white petticoat, Dharma on his knees kissing her bare waist and navel, her body reacting even as she whispered that she hated it, sent a fresh wave of shameless heat through me. I did not look away.
Dharma stayed on his knees in front of my wife. She was still fully dressed in the yellow blouse and the white petticoat. His thick hands rested on her waist over the white petticoat. He leaned in and pressed his wet lips to the small strip of her belly that showed above the white petticoat, kissing her navel slowly, tongue flicking once against it. Then he kissed lower, right along the top edge of the white petticoat.
My wife’s stomach tightened. Her hands flew to his shoulders, fingers digging in as if to push him away, then stilled. Her head tipped back against the door, eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping free. The yellow blouse rose and fell quickly with her breathing.
“This feels wrong,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Please… don’t.”
Her waist trembled under his mouth anyway. Another light shiver ran through her as he kept kissing the bare strip of her belly above the white petticoat. She kept her eyes closed, lips parted, body answering even while fresh tears ran down her cheeks.
Dharma finally rose to his feet. He stayed close, one hand resting on the door beside her head, the other settling on her waist over the white petticoat. The yellow blouse was still fully buttoned. He looked at her face, at the wet tracks on her cheeks, and leaned in until his mouth was near her ear.
“Your husband is outside,” he said, voice low and steady. “The door is closed. He can’t see anything. No one is watching you. So stop holding back. Let your body feel this. Move with me. Enjoy it. You promised full cooperation. It will be easier if you stop fighting what you’re already feeling.”
My wife’s breath caught. She shook her head once, a small shaky motion, eyes still shut. Her hands hovered near his chest but did not push.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want to feel any of this.”
His thumb stroked slowly over her waist through the white petticoat. A light tremor ran through her stomach. He kissed the side of her neck, wet lips lingering, then spoke again against her skin.
“Your body is already answering. No one will know. Not your husband. Not anyone. Just cooperate. Give me the pleasure I asked for. Let yourself have it too.”
She made a soft, broken sound. Her head stayed tipped back against the door. For a moment she remained rigid, then her shoulders loosened a fraction. Her hands settled on his upper arms, fingers curling into his sleeves. Fresh tears slipped free, but her hips shifted, a tiny involuntary movement toward him. Her breasts rose and fell faster under the yellow blouse.
“Just… don’t talk anymore,” she said, voice thin. “Do what you came to do. I’ll try.”
From the window I watched, cock throbbing hard against my zipper, breath shallow. She was still fully covered in the yellow blouse and white petticoat while Dharma kissed her navel and belly and spoke against her neck. She believed I could not see. She was starting to yield, just a little, and the lie he had told her made the shameless heat in me even sharper. I stayed perfectly still, unable to look away.
Dharma stepped back from my wife. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, then undid his trousers and pushed them down along with his underwear. He stood fully naked in front of her. His cock was thick, dark, and fully erect, heavy and curving upward, the head already slick. The scar on his face and the rough darkness of his skin made the size of it stand out even more in the low light.
My wife’s eyes dropped to his cock. Her breath caught. She pressed back harder against the door, the yellow blouse and white petticoat still fully on, shoulders drawing tight. A fresh flush spread up her neck. Her hands stayed clenched at her sides.
Dharma moved closer again. He took one of her hands, fingers wrapping around her wrist, and guided it forward until her palm met the hot length of his cock. He closed her fingers around it. Her hand trembled. She did not pull away. The thick shaft pulsed against her palm, too wide for her fingers to fully close.
“Hold it,” he said, voice low. His wet lips stayed near her ear. “Feel how hard I am for you. Your husband is outside. He can’t see. No one can. So stop thinking. Stroke it. Let yourself enjoy touching me. Your body already wants to. Cooperate fully. Give me this.”
My wife’s eyes stayed shut. Tears clung to her lashes. Her fingers twitched around his cock, a small, uncertain movement, then stilled. Her chest rose and fell quickly under the yellow blouse. She made a soft, shaky sound in her throat but kept her hand where he had placed it, the heat and weight of his cock filling her grip.
“I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, voice thin and breaking. Her thumb shifted once, almost by accident, along the underside.
Dharma’s hand stayed over hers, guiding a slow stroke up the length of his cock, then back down. His other hand rested on her waist over the white petticoat, thumb moving in a light circle.
“You can. You’re already doing it. Don’t fight it. Enjoy how it feels in your hand. Move with me. No one will ever know.”
From the window I watched her fingers wrapped around his thick cock, the yellow blouse and white petticoat still covering her, her face turned away in shame while her hand obeyed. My own cock throbbed painfully against my zipper. The sight of her holding him, stroking under his guidance while she believed I could not see, sent a sharp, shameless wave of heat through me. I stayed silent, breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dharma’s mouth moved over my wife’s breasts without hurry. He kissed the full weight of one breast, lips wet and open, then the other, pressing slow kisses across the curves, tasting her skin from the underside up to the stiff peaks. His tongue dragged in long strokes over her nipples before he took as much of one breast into his mouth as he could, sucking deeply.
Between kisses he spoke against her skin, voice low and soft.
“These feel so good in my mouth. So full. So warm. Don’t fight it. Just let yourself enjoy this. Let me suck them properly. You already promised to cooperate.”
My wife’s head tipped back against the door. A broken sound left her throat.
“My god… no…”
Her shoulders shook. She tried to stay still, tried to keep control, but her back arched, pushing her breasts harder into his mouth. Her fingers tightened around his cock. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. He switched to the other breast, licking the full curve, sucking slow and deep while his hand kneaded the one he had just left.
“See how your nipples get harder when I do this?” he murmured, tongue circling one stiff peak before drawing it back into his mouth. “Your body wants it. Stop holding back. Enjoy how it feels. Give me this.”
Another soft moan escaped her.
“My god… no… I can’t…”
Her thighs pressed together inside the white petticoat. A light tremor ran through her stomach. She kept whispering the same thin protest, voice shaking, while her body answered—nipples aching and wet from his tongue, breasts swelling under his mouth, hips shifting in small helpless movements she could not stop. His free hand stayed on her waist over the white petticoat, holding her close as he continued to kiss and suck, tempting her in that same low, steady voice.
From the window I watched, cock throbbing painfully. Her bare breasts filled his mouth, the white petticoat still around her waist, her fingers wrapped around his cock as she struggled and failed to stay unaffected. The soft way he kept convincing her, and the way her body yielded anyway, sent a sharp shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath uneven, unable to look away.
Dharma kept his mouth on my wife’s breasts, sucking slowly and deeply, switching from one to the other. His tongue worked over her nipples, lips pulling at the full weight of each breast, wet and unhurried.
My wife’s breathing changed. The resistance in her body grew weaker. Her back stayed arched, breasts pushed into his mouth. A soft, shaky moan left her, longer this time.
“Ahh… please…”
Her fingers, still wrapped around his cock, stroked him once, then again. Her free hand rose. She grabbed his face with both hands, palms against his cheeks, trying to ease him back. Her voice came out thin and unsteady.
“Enough… that’s enough.”
Dharma did not stop. He sucked harder, drawing more of her breast into his mouth, tongue flicking her nipple while his hands kneaded the heavy flesh. My wife’s grip on his face loosened. Her arms trembled. Another broken sound escaped her.
“Wait… I can’t…”
Her thighs pressed tighter together inside the white petticoat. Her knees softened. She sagged a little against the door, strength leaving her as he continued. Her hands slid from his face to his shoulders, no longer pushing, just holding on. Her head tipped back, eyes half-closed, lips parted, small helpless sounds slipping out while her breasts stayed swollen and sensitive under his mouth.
From the window I watched her grow weaker, the way her body yielded even after she tried to stop him. My own cock throbbed hard. I stayed hidden, breath uneven, unable to look away.
Dharma’s mouth stayed on my wife’s breasts, sucking deep and slow, tongue working over her nipples, lips pulling at the full weight until her knees went weak. A shaky moan left her. Her hands pushed at his shoulders, not hard, but enough to create space. She tried to twist away, body overwhelmed, one step sideways as if she meant to slip past him.
“Wait… too much…”
He grabbed her waist with both hands, fingers sinking into the soft flesh above the white petticoat, and pulled her straight back against him. Her bare breasts pressed to his chest. Before she could speak again his mouth found hers. He kissed her, thick wet lips covering hers, tongue pushing in.
This time she kissed him back. Her lips parted fully. Her tongue met his, hesitant for only a second, then moving with him, deeper, needier. A soft sound vibrated against his mouth. Her right hand found his cock again and wrapped around the thick shaft, stroking him in long, unsteady pulls while they kissed. Heat rushed to her face. She broke the kiss just enough to speak, cheeks flushed deep, eyes half-closed, breath uneven.
“I hate you,” she whispered, voice thin and shaky, even as her hand kept stroking his cock and her mouth stayed close to his.
Dharma smiled against her lips, the scar on his cheek pulling. He held her waist tighter, keeping her body flush to his, and kissed her again, slower, letting her set more of the pace this time. She answered, kissing him back with open, wet urgency, right hand moving steadily on his cock, left hand resting on his shoulder, no longer pushing him away. Her breasts rose and fell against his chest, nipples still stiff and sensitive from his mouth. The white petticoat stayed around her waist. She blushed harder, but she did not stop.
From the window I watched her kiss him back, really kiss him, while her hand worked his cock and her body stayed pressed to his. My own cock throbbed painfully. The sight of her yielding like that, saying she hated him even as she stroked him and opened her mouth for his, sent a sharp shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dharma stayed between my wife’s legs, hands resting on her inner thighs, holding them gently apart. He looked down at her pussy, at the neat outer lips glistening with wetness, slightly swollen and flushed. His wet lips parted. He spoke low, almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear.
“Your pussy is beautiful. So soft. So wet already. I’ve never seen anything like this. Perfect.”
Heat rushed to my wife’s face. She turned her head farther into the pillow, cheeks burning deep pink, eyes squeezed shut. Her thighs tried to close a little, but his hands kept them open. A shaky breath left her. The white petticoat stayed bunched under her breasts, her bare breasts rising and falling quickly.
“Don’t say that,” she whispered, voice thin and embarrassed. “Please.”
Dharma smiled faintly. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the inside of her right thigh, kissing the soft flesh slowly, then the left, working his way higher. Each kiss was wet and unhurried. My wife’s stomach tightened. Her hips shifted once on the bed. He moved closer, mouth hovering just above her pussy, breath warm against her wet outer lips. Then he kissed her pussy directly—open-mouthed, slow, lips pressing against her outer lips, tongue flicking lightly over the slick entrance.
“Ahh… mmm…”
A sharp, soft moan left her. Her back arched a fraction. Her hands grabbed the sheet. Fresh heat flooded her face and chest. She bit her lower lip hard, trying to stay quiet, but another sound slipped out.
“Ohh… wait…”
Her hips lifted toward his mouth for a second before she forced them back down. Tears of overwhelm clung to her lashes even as her pussy grew wetter under his kiss.
From the window I watched him praise her pussy, watched her blush and hide her face, watched his mouth move from her inner thighs to kiss her pussy directly while those soft sounds left her. My cock throbbed painfully against my zipper. The slow, deliberate way he tasted her, and the way her body answered with those moans despite her embarrassment, sent another sharp wave of shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dharma settled fully between my wife’s thighs. His hands slid under her hips, lifting her pussy closer to his mouth. He kissed her outer lips again, slower this time, then parted them with his tongue and licked a long, wet stroke from her entrance up to her clit.
“Ahh… ohh…”
My wife’s back arched off the bed. Her hands grabbed the sheet tighter. He did it again, tongue flat and firm, then focused on her clit—circling it, flicking it lightly, then sucking the swollen bud between his lips. Wet sounds filled the room. Her thighs trembled on either side of his head. The white petticoat stayed bunched under her breasts, her bare breasts rising and falling fast, nipples stiff.
“Mmm… please… ahh…”
She tried to twist her hips away, overwhelmed, but his hands held her steady. He licked deeper, tongue pushing inside her pussy, then returned to her clit, sucking in steady pulses. Her stomach tightened hard. Fresh wetness slicked his mouth and chin. A broken moan left her, higher than before.
“Ohh… I can’t… ahh… wait…”
Her legs shook. One hand left the sheet and grabbed his hair, not pushing him away anymore, just holding on. He sucked her clit harder, tongue flicking fast, then slow, reading every twitch of her body. Her pussy clenched around nothing. Her breathing turned ragged. The tension in her belly snapped.
“Ahh—ohh—mmm…!”
She came with a sharp, helpless cry, hips bucking against his mouth, thighs clamping around his head, pussy pulsing and gushing against his tongue. He kept licking her through it, gentler now, drawing out every wave while she shook and moaned, voice breaking, tears of pleasure mixing with the ones already on her cheeks. Her whole body went tight, then soft, chest heaving, the white petticoat still rucked up, breasts flushed and nipples aching.
Dharma finally lifted his head, lips and chin wet with her, and looked at her wrecked face. She lay there panting, eyes half-closed, cheeks deep red, one arm thrown over her face, body still trembling with the aftershocks.
From the window I watched every second—his mouth on her pussy, the way she fought and then broke, the sounds she made when she came. My cock throbbed so hard it hurt, leaking against my trousers. The sight of her cumming on his tongue, completely undone, sent a brutal wave of shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath shaky, hand pressed hard against the front of my trousers, unable to look away.
Dharma stayed between her thighs a moment longer, licking his lips, clearly pleased. He moved up her body, the white petticoat still bunched under her breasts, and grabbed her chin, turning her face toward him. Before she could speak he kissed her, open-mouthed and deep, his wet lips smeared with her juices pressing against hers.
My wife made a small, startled sound against his mouth. She tasted herself immediately. For a second she tried to turn her head.
“Your mouth… it’s covered in…” she whispered, voice shaky, cheeks burning.
He held her face steady and kissed her again, slower.
“Taste yourself,” he said against her lips, low and rough. “You came so hard on my tongue. I want you to know how good you taste.”
Her resistance faded. Her lips parted. She kissed him back, tongue meeting his, licking the taste of her pussy from his filthy mouth. A soft moan slipped out between them.
“Mmm… ahh… this is wrong…”
“You love it,” he murmured, smiling into the kiss, one hand cupping her bare breast, thumb brushing her stiff nipple. “Keep kissing me. Lick it all off.”
She did. Her hand grabbed his shoulder. She kept kissing him, slower, deeper, tasting herself on his lips and tongue while her body still trembled. Her face stayed flushed deep pink, breath uneven, but she did not pull away.
From the window I watched her kiss him back, watched her tongue move against his, cleaning the taste of her own pussy from his wet lips while he spoke to her like that. My cock throbbed painfully, leaking against my trousers. The sight sent a brutal, shameless wave of heat through me. I pressed my palm harder against the front of my trousers, breath shaky, unable to look away.
He stepped back half a pace and looked at her, eyes moving over the yellow blouse stretched across her breasts, the stiff points of her nipples clear beneath the yellow blouse, then down to the white petticoat hugging the curve of her hips and the soft line of her waist. His wet lips parted further.
“Beautiful,” he said, voice low. “Even like this.”
My wife turned her face away, eyes squeezing shut, shame burning hot on her skin. Her shoulders drew in. She crossed her arms loosely over the yellow blouse for a moment, then let them fall again, remembering she was not allowed to hold back.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, voice thick. “Please.”
Dharma ignored the words. He stepped in again and kissed her lips, slower this time, tongue sliding into her mouth. She hesitated, a small sound of distaste catching in her throat, then parted her lips and kissed him back, tears still wet on her cheeks. While his mouth stayed on hers his hands settled on her waist, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just above the white petticoat.
He broke the kiss and sank to his knees in front of her. His thick hands pushed the white petticoat a little lower on her hips, baring the smooth skin of her waist and the small dip of her navel. He leaned forward and pressed his wet lips to her navel, kissing it openly, tongue flicking once against the sensitive skin. My wife’s stomach tightened hard. A sharp breath left her. Her hands flew to his shoulders as if to push him away, then stopped and simply rested there, fingers digging into his shirt.
“Don’t,” she said, voice shaking, head tipped back against the door. “I hate this.”
Her body answered anyway. Her waist trembled under his mouth. Her thighs pressed together inside the white petticoat. Another involuntary shiver ran through her as he kissed lower along the soft skin of her belly, lips wet and unhurried. She kept her eyes shut, tears slipping free, mouth parted, hating every second while her stomach fluttered and her nipples stayed stiff and aching beneath the yellow blouse.
From the window I watched, cock throbbing painfully against my zipper, breath caught in my throat. The sight of her standing there in the yellow blouse and white petticoat, Dharma on his knees kissing her bare waist and navel, her body reacting even as she whispered that she hated it, sent a fresh wave of shameless heat through me. I did not look away.
Dharma stayed on his knees in front of my wife. She was still fully dressed in the yellow blouse and the white petticoat. His thick hands rested on her waist over the white petticoat. He leaned in and pressed his wet lips to the small strip of her belly that showed above the white petticoat, kissing her navel slowly, tongue flicking once against it. Then he kissed lower, right along the top edge of the white petticoat.
My wife’s stomach tightened. Her hands flew to his shoulders, fingers digging in as if to push him away, then stilled. Her head tipped back against the door, eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping free. The yellow blouse rose and fell quickly with her breathing.
“This feels wrong,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Please… don’t.”
Her waist trembled under his mouth anyway. Another light shiver ran through her as he kept kissing the bare strip of her belly above the white petticoat. She kept her eyes closed, lips parted, body answering even while fresh tears ran down her cheeks.
Dharma finally rose to his feet. He stayed close, one hand resting on the door beside her head, the other settling on her waist over the white petticoat. The yellow blouse was still fully buttoned. He looked at her face, at the wet tracks on her cheeks, and leaned in until his mouth was near her ear.
“Your husband is outside,” he said, voice low and steady. “The door is closed. He can’t see anything. No one is watching you. So stop holding back. Let your body feel this. Move with me. Enjoy it. You promised full cooperation. It will be easier if you stop fighting what you’re already feeling.”
My wife’s breath caught. She shook her head once, a small shaky motion, eyes still shut. Her hands hovered near his chest but did not push.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want to feel any of this.”
His thumb stroked slowly over her waist through the white petticoat. A light tremor ran through her stomach. He kissed the side of her neck, wet lips lingering, then spoke again against her skin.
“Your body is already answering. No one will know. Not your husband. Not anyone. Just cooperate. Give me the pleasure I asked for. Let yourself have it too.”
She made a soft, broken sound. Her head stayed tipped back against the door. For a moment she remained rigid, then her shoulders loosened a fraction. Her hands settled on his upper arms, fingers curling into his sleeves. Fresh tears slipped free, but her hips shifted, a tiny involuntary movement toward him. Her breasts rose and fell faster under the yellow blouse.
“Just… don’t talk anymore,” she said, voice thin. “Do what you came to do. I’ll try.”
From the window I watched, cock throbbing hard against my zipper, breath shallow. She was still fully covered in the yellow blouse and white petticoat while Dharma kissed her navel and belly and spoke against her neck. She believed I could not see. She was starting to yield, just a little, and the lie he had told her made the shameless heat in me even sharper. I stayed perfectly still, unable to look away.
Dharma stepped back from my wife. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, then undid his trousers and pushed them down along with his underwear. He stood fully naked in front of her. His cock was thick, dark, and fully erect, heavy and curving upward, the head already slick. The scar on his face and the rough darkness of his skin made the size of it stand out even more in the low light.
My wife’s eyes dropped to his cock. Her breath caught. She pressed back harder against the door, the yellow blouse and white petticoat still fully on, shoulders drawing tight. A fresh flush spread up her neck. Her hands stayed clenched at her sides.
Dharma moved closer again. He took one of her hands, fingers wrapping around her wrist, and guided it forward until her palm met the hot length of his cock. He closed her fingers around it. Her hand trembled. She did not pull away. The thick shaft pulsed against her palm, too wide for her fingers to fully close.
“Hold it,” he said, voice low. His wet lips stayed near her ear. “Feel how hard I am for you. Your husband is outside. He can’t see. No one can. So stop thinking. Stroke it. Let yourself enjoy touching me. Your body already wants to. Cooperate fully. Give me this.”
My wife’s eyes stayed shut. Tears clung to her lashes. Her fingers twitched around his cock, a small, uncertain movement, then stilled. Her chest rose and fell quickly under the yellow blouse. She made a soft, shaky sound in her throat but kept her hand where he had placed it, the heat and weight of his cock filling her grip.
“I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, voice thin and breaking. Her thumb shifted once, almost by accident, along the underside.
Dharma’s hand stayed over hers, guiding a slow stroke up the length of his cock, then back down. His other hand rested on her waist over the white petticoat, thumb moving in a light circle.
“You can. You’re already doing it. Don’t fight it. Enjoy how it feels in your hand. Move with me. No one will ever know.”
From the window I watched her fingers wrapped around his thick cock, the yellow blouse and white petticoat still covering her, her face turned away in shame while her hand obeyed. My own cock throbbed painfully against my zipper. The sight of her holding him, stroking under his guidance while she believed I could not see, sent a sharp, shameless wave of heat through me. I stayed silent, breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dharma’s mouth moved over my wife’s breasts without hurry. He kissed the full weight of one breast, lips wet and open, then the other, pressing slow kisses across the curves, tasting her skin from the underside up to the stiff peaks. His tongue dragged in long strokes over her nipples before he took as much of one breast into his mouth as he could, sucking deeply.
Between kisses he spoke against her skin, voice low and soft.
“These feel so good in my mouth. So full. So warm. Don’t fight it. Just let yourself enjoy this. Let me suck them properly. You already promised to cooperate.”
My wife’s head tipped back against the door. A broken sound left her throat.
“My god… no…”
Her shoulders shook. She tried to stay still, tried to keep control, but her back arched, pushing her breasts harder into his mouth. Her fingers tightened around his cock. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. He switched to the other breast, licking the full curve, sucking slow and deep while his hand kneaded the one he had just left.
“See how your nipples get harder when I do this?” he murmured, tongue circling one stiff peak before drawing it back into his mouth. “Your body wants it. Stop holding back. Enjoy how it feels. Give me this.”
Another soft moan escaped her.
“My god… no… I can’t…”
Her thighs pressed together inside the white petticoat. A light tremor ran through her stomach. She kept whispering the same thin protest, voice shaking, while her body answered—nipples aching and wet from his tongue, breasts swelling under his mouth, hips shifting in small helpless movements she could not stop. His free hand stayed on her waist over the white petticoat, holding her close as he continued to kiss and suck, tempting her in that same low, steady voice.
From the window I watched, cock throbbing painfully. Her bare breasts filled his mouth, the white petticoat still around her waist, her fingers wrapped around his cock as she struggled and failed to stay unaffected. The soft way he kept convincing her, and the way her body yielded anyway, sent a sharp shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath uneven, unable to look away.
Dharma kept his mouth on my wife’s breasts, sucking slowly and deeply, switching from one to the other. His tongue worked over her nipples, lips pulling at the full weight of each breast, wet and unhurried.
My wife’s breathing changed. The resistance in her body grew weaker. Her back stayed arched, breasts pushed into his mouth. A soft, shaky moan left her, longer this time.
“Ahh… please…”
Her fingers, still wrapped around his cock, stroked him once, then again. Her free hand rose. She grabbed his face with both hands, palms against his cheeks, trying to ease him back. Her voice came out thin and unsteady.
“Enough… that’s enough.”
Dharma did not stop. He sucked harder, drawing more of her breast into his mouth, tongue flicking her nipple while his hands kneaded the heavy flesh. My wife’s grip on his face loosened. Her arms trembled. Another broken sound escaped her.
“Wait… I can’t…”
Her thighs pressed tighter together inside the white petticoat. Her knees softened. She sagged a little against the door, strength leaving her as he continued. Her hands slid from his face to his shoulders, no longer pushing, just holding on. Her head tipped back, eyes half-closed, lips parted, small helpless sounds slipping out while her breasts stayed swollen and sensitive under his mouth.
From the window I watched her grow weaker, the way her body yielded even after she tried to stop him. My own cock throbbed hard. I stayed hidden, breath uneven, unable to look away.
Dharma’s mouth stayed on my wife’s breasts, sucking deep and slow, tongue working over her nipples, lips pulling at the full weight until her knees went weak. A shaky moan left her. Her hands pushed at his shoulders, not hard, but enough to create space. She tried to twist away, body overwhelmed, one step sideways as if she meant to slip past him.
“Wait… too much…”
He grabbed her waist with both hands, fingers sinking into the soft flesh above the white petticoat, and pulled her straight back against him. Her bare breasts pressed to his chest. Before she could speak again his mouth found hers. He kissed her, thick wet lips covering hers, tongue pushing in.
This time she kissed him back. Her lips parted fully. Her tongue met his, hesitant for only a second, then moving with him, deeper, needier. A soft sound vibrated against his mouth. Her right hand found his cock again and wrapped around the thick shaft, stroking him in long, unsteady pulls while they kissed. Heat rushed to her face. She broke the kiss just enough to speak, cheeks flushed deep, eyes half-closed, breath uneven.
“I hate you,” she whispered, voice thin and shaky, even as her hand kept stroking his cock and her mouth stayed close to his.
Dharma smiled against her lips, the scar on his cheek pulling. He held her waist tighter, keeping her body flush to his, and kissed her again, slower, letting her set more of the pace this time. She answered, kissing him back with open, wet urgency, right hand moving steadily on his cock, left hand resting on his shoulder, no longer pushing him away. Her breasts rose and fell against his chest, nipples still stiff and sensitive from his mouth. The white petticoat stayed around her waist. She blushed harder, but she did not stop.
From the window I watched her kiss him back, really kiss him, while her hand worked his cock and her body stayed pressed to his. My own cock throbbed painfully. The sight of her yielding like that, saying she hated him even as she stroked him and opened her mouth for his, sent a sharp shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dharma stayed between my wife’s legs, hands resting on her inner thighs, holding them gently apart. He looked down at her pussy, at the neat outer lips glistening with wetness, slightly swollen and flushed. His wet lips parted. He spoke low, almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear.
“Your pussy is beautiful. So soft. So wet already. I’ve never seen anything like this. Perfect.”
Heat rushed to my wife’s face. She turned her head farther into the pillow, cheeks burning deep pink, eyes squeezed shut. Her thighs tried to close a little, but his hands kept them open. A shaky breath left her. The white petticoat stayed bunched under her breasts, her bare breasts rising and falling quickly.
“Don’t say that,” she whispered, voice thin and embarrassed. “Please.”
Dharma smiled faintly. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the inside of her right thigh, kissing the soft flesh slowly, then the left, working his way higher. Each kiss was wet and unhurried. My wife’s stomach tightened. Her hips shifted once on the bed. He moved closer, mouth hovering just above her pussy, breath warm against her wet outer lips. Then he kissed her pussy directly—open-mouthed, slow, lips pressing against her outer lips, tongue flicking lightly over the slick entrance.
“Ahh… mmm…”
A sharp, soft moan left her. Her back arched a fraction. Her hands grabbed the sheet. Fresh heat flooded her face and chest. She bit her lower lip hard, trying to stay quiet, but another sound slipped out.
“Ohh… wait…”
Her hips lifted toward his mouth for a second before she forced them back down. Tears of overwhelm clung to her lashes even as her pussy grew wetter under his kiss.
From the window I watched him praise her pussy, watched her blush and hide her face, watched his mouth move from her inner thighs to kiss her pussy directly while those soft sounds left her. My cock throbbed painfully against my zipper. The slow, deliberate way he tasted her, and the way her body answered with those moans despite her embarrassment, sent another sharp wave of shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dharma settled fully between my wife’s thighs. His hands slid under her hips, lifting her pussy closer to his mouth. He kissed her outer lips again, slower this time, then parted them with his tongue and licked a long, wet stroke from her entrance up to her clit.
“Ahh… ohh…”
My wife’s back arched off the bed. Her hands grabbed the sheet tighter. He did it again, tongue flat and firm, then focused on her clit—circling it, flicking it lightly, then sucking the swollen bud between his lips. Wet sounds filled the room. Her thighs trembled on either side of his head. The white petticoat stayed bunched under her breasts, her bare breasts rising and falling fast, nipples stiff.
“Mmm… please… ahh…”
She tried to twist her hips away, overwhelmed, but his hands held her steady. He licked deeper, tongue pushing inside her pussy, then returned to her clit, sucking in steady pulses. Her stomach tightened hard. Fresh wetness slicked his mouth and chin. A broken moan left her, higher than before.
“Ohh… I can’t… ahh… wait…”
Her legs shook. One hand left the sheet and grabbed his hair, not pushing him away anymore, just holding on. He sucked her clit harder, tongue flicking fast, then slow, reading every twitch of her body. Her pussy clenched around nothing. Her breathing turned ragged. The tension in her belly snapped.
“Ahh—ohh—mmm…!”
She came with a sharp, helpless cry, hips bucking against his mouth, thighs clamping around his head, pussy pulsing and gushing against his tongue. He kept licking her through it, gentler now, drawing out every wave while she shook and moaned, voice breaking, tears of pleasure mixing with the ones already on her cheeks. Her whole body went tight, then soft, chest heaving, the white petticoat still rucked up, breasts flushed and nipples aching.
Dharma finally lifted his head, lips and chin wet with her, and looked at her wrecked face. She lay there panting, eyes half-closed, cheeks deep red, one arm thrown over her face, body still trembling with the aftershocks.
From the window I watched every second—his mouth on her pussy, the way she fought and then broke, the sounds she made when she came. My cock throbbed so hard it hurt, leaking against my trousers. The sight of her cumming on his tongue, completely undone, sent a brutal wave of shameless heat through me. I stayed hidden, breath shaky, hand pressed hard against the front of my trousers, unable to look away.
Dharma stayed between her thighs a moment longer, licking his lips, clearly pleased. He moved up her body, the white petticoat still bunched under her breasts, and grabbed her chin, turning her face toward him. Before she could speak he kissed her, open-mouthed and deep, his wet lips smeared with her juices pressing against hers.
My wife made a small, startled sound against his mouth. She tasted herself immediately. For a second she tried to turn her head.
“Your mouth… it’s covered in…” she whispered, voice shaky, cheeks burning.
He held her face steady and kissed her again, slower.
“Taste yourself,” he said against her lips, low and rough. “You came so hard on my tongue. I want you to know how good you taste.”
Her resistance faded. Her lips parted. She kissed him back, tongue meeting his, licking the taste of her pussy from his filthy mouth. A soft moan slipped out between them.
“Mmm… ahh… this is wrong…”
“You love it,” he murmured, smiling into the kiss, one hand cupping her bare breast, thumb brushing her stiff nipple. “Keep kissing me. Lick it all off.”
She did. Her hand grabbed his shoulder. She kept kissing him, slower, deeper, tasting herself on his lips and tongue while her body still trembled. Her face stayed flushed deep pink, breath uneven, but she did not pull away.
From the window I watched her kiss him back, watched her tongue move against his, cleaning the taste of her own pussy from his wet lips while he spoke to her like that. My cock throbbed painfully, leaking against my trousers. The sight sent a brutal, shameless wave of heat through me. I pressed my palm harder against the front of my trousers, breath shaky, unable to look away.
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