[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.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Look at this.”
 
It was a blood report. Clear, official, dated yesterday. HIV – Negative.
 
Simran’s eyes moved over the words. Preeti spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
 
“I got the test done yesterday. It’s negative. If I want natural insemination from Bhola… then this is necessary. Condom won’t work. His load has to go straight inside. That’s why being clean is important.”
 
The words hung in the air, heavy and filthy.
 
Simran felt a strange heat rise in her stomach. The image of Bhola’s thick, dark cock pushing deep into Preeti’s pussy, unloading rope after rope of cum inside her, flashed unwanted through her mind. She shifted on the bed, her own freshly fucked cunt giving a small, traitorous throb.
 
Preeti continued, her voice soft but direct.
 
“You get tested too. And Bhola’s as well. If both are negative… then he won’t need to wear a condom. Whenever you take him… or I take him… straight bareback. Full load inside.”
 
Simran’s first reaction was discomfort. The idea of discussing HIV tests with Bhola felt awkward, almost dirty in a different way. How would she even bring it up? “Bhola, tera lund itna bada hai aur main usko roz leti hoon, isliye HIV test karwa le”? It sounded ridiculous even in her head.
 
But the more she thought about it, the more practical it seemed.
 
No condom. Just that thick, hot cock sliding into her bare, stretching her open, and emptying everything inside. The same way he had done earlier. The thought made her nipples tighten against the soft fabric of her sundress.
 
Preeti watched her carefully.
 
“I know you’re thinking this is awkward. It’s difficult to tell Bhola directly. So do one thing. Bring him to my clinic tomorrow morning. I’ll make an excuse of checking him. Blood test, routine check-up… anything. I’ll get you tested along with him. No one will ask questions.”
 
Simran was quiet for a few seconds. Then she slowly nodded.
 
“Okay… I’ll bring him tomorrow.”
 
Preeti smiled, satisfied.
 
Both of them knew the unspoken truth. If anyone outside found out that a married woman and her male servant were getting HIV tests done together, it would look exactly like what it was — they were fucking. And not just fucking. They were planning to take his cum deep inside without any barrier.
 
The scandal of it sat between them like a third presence in the room.
 
Simran’s mind, however, kept drifting back to the unfinished feeling between her legs. She had cum multiple times on that cock already, but she still wanted more. She still wanted Bhola to pin her down again and fuck her until her legs shook.
 
And now Preeti wanted the same cock for a very different reason.
 
The tension in the bedroom only grew thicker.
 
Bhola came upstairs carefully, carrying two cups of coffee on a small tray. He kept his eyes lowered as he entered the bedroom, still aware of the thick, unfinished tension that hung in the air from earlier. He placed the cups on the side table near the bed and stepped back.
 
Preeti looked at him with a calm, almost professional smile.
 
“Bhola, kal subah Simran ko mere clinic le aana. Usse blood donate karna hai. Uske baad who weak feel karegi… drive nahi kar payegi. Isliye tum hi usko wapas ghar drop kar dena.”
“Bhola, bring Simran to my clinic tomorrow morning. She has to donate blood. After that she’ll feel weak… she won’t be able to drive. So you drop her back home.”
 
Bhola nodded respectfully.
 
“Ji madam. Main le aunga.”
“Yes Madam. I’ll bring her.”
 
Preeti tilted her head slightly, studying him for a moment.
 
“Tumhara blood group kya hai?”
“What’s your blood group?”
 
“O positive, madam.”
 
Preeti’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
 
“Theek hai. Kal main tumhara bhi test karwa lungi. Agar zarurat padi toh baad mein call karungi.”
“Okay. Tomorrow I’ll get your test done as well. If needed, I’ll call later.”
 
Bhola simply nodded again and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. The moment he was gone, Preeti turned fully toward Simran. She picked up her coffee, took a slow sip, then set it down.
 
“Itna mat soch Simmu,” she said softly. “Sab theek ho jayega.”
“Don’t think so much, Simmu,” she said softly. “Everything will be fine.”
 
She stood up, adjusting the short frock that still clung tightly to her body. As she walked toward the door, she paused right in front of Simran. Her voice dropped lower, intimate and filthy.
 
“Aur haan… tab tak usko andar mat lena. Na muh mein, na choot mein. Test negative aane do pehle. Main sure hoon tumhara bhi negative hi aayega… lekin risk mat lo.”
“And yes… until then don’t take him inside. Not in the mouth, not in the pussy. Let the test come negative first. I’m sure yours will also come negative… but don’t take the risk.”
 
Before Simran could react, Preeti’s hand suddenly reached out and grabbed her left breast through the soft fabric of the sundress. She gave the heavy, soft mound a firm little shake, feeling its weight and fullness in her palm.
 
Simran’s eyes widened in pure shock.
 
“Preeti—!”
 
Preeti just smiled, gave the tit one last small squeeze, and then released it.
 
“Kal milte hain,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t just groped her friend’s breast. Then she turned and walked out of the room, the short frock hugging her ass as she disappeared down the stairs.
 
Simran stood frozen in place, her heart beating fast. Her left breast still tingled from Preeti’s bold touch. The filthy warning about not taking Bhola’s cock inside her until the tests were done only made the ache between her legs worse.
 
She was still unfinished.
 
And now she had to wait.
 
It was around 9 pm when Simran came downstairs.

[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.
 

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

She placed a soft hand on his chest, trying to steady herself.
 
“Main jaanti hoon tu wait kar raha hai… lekin aaj raat aur kuch nahi. Pehle khana khatam karte hain.”
“I know you’re waiting… but nothing more tonight. First let’s finish the food.”
 
Even as she said it, her right thigh pressed a little more firmly against the hard, heavy ridge of his cock. She could feel it twitch and swell further under her. Bhola’s hand remained on her freed breast, thumb lazily brushing over the stiff nipple he had just pinched, as if reminding her that he already had her half-undressed at the dinner table.
 
The food on the plates was getting cold.
 
Neither of them seemed to care.
 
Bhola leaned in again and captured Simran’s mouth in a deeper, hungrier kiss. His tongue pushed past her soft lips, tasting the lingering spice of the roti and the sweetness of her mouth. While their tongues tangled, his left hand left her heavy breast and slid down. He gathered the hem of her sundress in his fingers and slowly lifted it up her thighs.
 
The soft fabric rose higher, exposing the smooth, milky skin of her legs. His large, rough palm slid underneath and began rubbing her thighs in slow, deliberate strokes. The flesh there was warm, soft, and impossibly smooth — the kind of skin that made his cock throb harder against her. He worked his way higher, fingers spreading and squeezing the plush outer thighs before moving inward.
 
Simran’s breathing grew heavier against his mouth. She shifted on his lap, her soft ass pressing down harder on his thick, trapped cock.
 
Bhola’s hand climbed higher until his fingers brushed against the thin waistband of her panty. He hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulled it outward, and then let it snap back against her soft skin with a soft thwack.
 
“Mmmph—!” Simran squeaked into the kiss, a sharp little moan escaping her as the elastic stung her skin. The sudden sensation made her hips jerk on his lap.
 
He didn’t stop. His hand moved higher still, sliding over the soft curve of her lower belly until his middle finger found the small, sensitive dip of her navel. He began slowly circling it — pressing, rubbing, teasing the tiny hole with the pad of his finger in lazy, filthy circles. Every slow rotation made Simran squirm and shift on his lap. Her thighs pressed together, then opened slightly again. He could feel the heat rising from between her legs. She was getting wetter by the second. The thin fabric of her panty was already starting to dampen against his thigh.
 
Bhola groaned into her mouth as he felt her moving. His hand continued its upward journey, sliding over the soft, warm skin of her stomach until it reached the heavy underside of her left breast. He cupped the gigantic, milk-filled globe from below, lifting its soft, dense weight in his palm. The sheer size and heaviness of it made him squeeze harder. Warm, soft flesh overflowed between his fingers.
 
Both of them moaned into the kiss at the same time — Simran’s soft and shaky, Bhola’s deep and hungry.
 
His fingers shifted. The index finger and thumb found her thick, already stiff nipple under the sundress. He pinched it, pulled it outward, then twisted it slowly between his fingers before flicking the sensitive tip with his thumb. The dual sensation of the heavy breast being squeezed from below and the nipple being played with so roughly made Simran’s whole body tremble on his lap.
 
“Aaahhh… mmmphhh…” she moaned loudly into his mouth, her hips rolling involuntarily.
 
While he tortured her nipple, Simran’s right hand slid down between their bodies. Her fingers found the thick, hard ridge of his cock straining against his trousers. She wrapped her small hand around as much of it as she could through the fabric and began stroking him slowly — up and down the heavy length, feeling it pulse and thicken even more under her touch. The outline of the fat head was clearly visible against the material, and she rubbed her palm over it deliberately.
 
Bhola finally broke the kiss, breathing hard against her lips. His hand was still buried under her sundress, firmly cupping her left breast, thumb still lazily brushing over the stiff, sensitive nipple he had just twisted.
 
He looked into her flushed face, eyes dark with hunger.
 
“Bhabhi… aap panty aur bra kyun pehenti ho?” he asked in a low, rough voice, his fingers giving her heavy tit another slow, possessive squeeze. “Main nahi chahta aap yeh pehno. Abse nahi. Na panty, na bra. Sirf yeh kapda… ya kuch bhi nahi. Main aapki chuchiyan aur aapki choot hamesha free chahta hoon. Jab bhi haath daalu… seedha milni chahiye. Samjhi?”
“Bhabhi… why do you wear panty and bra?” he asked in a low, rough voice, his fingers giving her heavy tit another slow, possessive squeeze. “I don’t want you to wear these. Not from now on. No panty, no bra. Only this cloth… or nothing at all. I want your boobs and your pussy always free. Whenever I put my hand… I should get them directly. Understood?”
 
His cock throbbed hard under her stroking hand as he spoke, thick and demanding, pressing hotly against her thigh through the fabric.
 
Simran was breathing heavily, her freed breasts rising and falling under the sundress, the left nipple still tingling from his rough play. Her panty was already soaked between her legs, and the filthy order he had just given her only made her wetter.
 
The dinner on the table remained untouched.
 
Bhola stood up suddenly, the chair scbanging against the floor. Before Simran could react, his hands grabbed the hem of her sundress. In one swift, powerful motion he pulled the soft fabric straight up. Simran’s arms lifted involuntarily as the dress was yanked over her head and off her body in a single second. The thin material fluttered away and landed somewhere near the table.
 
Her already-unhooked bra was still loosely hanging on her. Bhola’s hand shot forward, grabbed the centre of the bra between her heavy breasts, and yanked it off with force. The straps slid down her arms and the soft cups were pulled free. He tossed the bra carelessly to the side. It landed somewhere on the floor.
 
Simran was now sitting on the chair in only her thin panty, her gigantic, milk-heavy breasts completely exposed and swaying with the sudden movement. Before she could cover herself, Bhola bent down, hooked one strong arm around her waist and the other behind her knees, and in one smooth lift swung her up and over his broad shoulder.
 
“Bhola—! Kya kar rahe ho?! Chhod do mujhe!”
“Bhola—! What are you doing?! Leave me!”
 
Simran cried out, her legs kicking in the air. Her heavy breasts pressed against his back, the soft flesh flattening against his shoulder as he straightened up. She tried to push against him with her hands, but his grip was firm.
 
“Bhabhi… bas thoda upar,”
“Bhabhi… just a little higher,”
he said in a low voice, already walking toward the stairs.
 
As he climbed the first few steps, his free hand reached up under the curve of her huge, soft ass. He found the waistband of her panty and began tugging it downward. The thick, wide shape of her hips and the heavy globes of her ass made it difficult. The thin fabric stretched and resisted. Bhola paused halfway up the stairs, balanced her carefully on his shoulder, and used both hands. He worked the panty down inch by inch — first one side, then the other — pulling it past the widest part of her hips. The soft material slid over the full, jiggling cheeks of her ass until it finally cleared them.
 

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Simran was thrashing and protesting the entire time.
 
“Bhola ruk jao… panty mat nikaalo… aaahhh… kya kar rahe ho!”
“Bhola stop… don’t take off the panty… aaahhh… what are you doing!”
 
He ignored her. Once the panty was past her hips he gave it one final strong pull. The soft, already-damp piece of fabric slid down her thighs, over her knees, and fell onto the stairs, left behind like discarded evidence.
 
Now she was completely naked over his shoulder — heavy breasts hanging, wide hips and thick ass fully exposed, smooth thighs pressed together. The cool air of the staircase touched her bare skin.
 
Bhola’s right hand came back up. Without warning he slid his middle finger between her closed thighs from behind and pushed it straight into her already wet pussy.
 
“Aaahhhhhh—!” Simran shouted, her body jerking hard on his shoulder. A long, broken moan followed as his thick finger sank deep inside her. “Bhola… nikaal… aaahhh… mat daalo… aaahhh!”
 
He kept the finger buried inside her as he continued climbing the stairs. Every step made his finger shift and press against her soft inner walls. Simran’s moans became continuous — high, helpless, and wet. Her pussy clenched around the invading finger while her heavy breasts bounced and rubbed against his back with every movement.
 
When they reached the bedroom, Bhola bent forward and carefully lowered her onto the centre of the bed. She landed on her back, completely naked, legs slightly open from the way he had been holding her. His middle finger slid out of her as he set her down. The finger was shiny with her thick juices and had a few grains of rice and a streak of dal stuck to it from earlier.
 
Bhola looked at the messy finger, then looked directly at Simran. He brought it to his mouth and slowly sucked it clean, tasting her and the leftover food together. His eyes stayed on her the entire time.
 
Simran’s face burned with shyness. She immediately crossed her arms over her heavy breasts, trying to hide the soft, milk-swollen flesh, and pressed her thighs tightly together to cover her glistening pussy. Her chest was rising and falling fast.
 
Bhola’s voice was calm but firm.
 
“Bhabhi… yahin rukiye. Hilo mat.”
“Bhabhi… stay right here. Don’t move.”
 
He turned and went back downstairs. Simran stayed on the bed exactly as he had left her, naked and breathing hard, listening to his footsteps. A couple of minutes later he returned. In his hands were two small pieces of jewellery — a delicate waist chain and a thin silver anklet.
 
He sat on the edge of the bed and held them up so she could see.
 
“Yeh pehno, Bhabhi. Main chahta hoon aap yeh hamesha pehna karein. Aap inme bahut sundar lagti ho.”
“Wear this, Bhabhi. I want you to always wear these. You look very beautiful in them.”
 
Simran’s arms were still covering her breasts. She watched as he leaned forward. Bhola gently took her wrists and moved her hands away so her heavy tits were fully exposed again. Then he slipped the waist chain around her soft midriff. The cool metal settled against her warm skin, resting just above the soft curve of her lower belly and sitting prettily against the wide flare of her hips. He adjusted it carefully so it sat perfectly.
 
Next he lifted her left leg. Simran didn’t resist. He fastened the anklet around her ankle, the small chain resting against her smooth skin. When he was done he looked at her fully naked body — the waist chain glinting against her soft stomach, the anklet on her leg, her gigantic breasts free and heavy, her pussy still wet and slightly open from his finger.
 
He ran his palm slowly over the waist chain, feeling it against her skin, then looked up at her face.
 
“Ab yeh aapke upar hi rahenge, Bhabhi. Hamesha.”
“From now on these will stay on you, Bhabhi. Always.”
 
Simran lay there on the bed, completely bare except for the two pieces of jewellery he had just put on her, her heart beating hard and her body still trembling from everything that had just happened on the stairs.
 
Bhola didn’t say another word.
 
He simply hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushed them down in one smooth motion. The moment the fabric cleared his hips, his cock sprang free with heavy force.
 
It was a monster.
 
Thick, dark, and brutally hard. The shaft was a deep, almost blackish-brown, the skin stretched tight over heavy veins that ran along its length like raised ropes. It stood straight up, pointing slightly toward the ceiling, so rigid that it barely moved even when he shifted. The head was even darker — a swollen, bulbous, purplish-black crown that looked angry and shiny. A thick ridge separated the head from the shaft, and the tip was already wet, a clear bead of precum slowly forming and threatening to drip. The entire length was easily twelve thick inches, so girthy that an ordinary hand would struggle to close around it. Below, his balls hung heavy and full, the dark sac drawn tight with need, the two large stones shifting slightly with every small movement of his body. They looked swollen, weighted with cum, hanging low and dense between his strong thighs.
 
Simran’s eyes locked onto it and refused to look away.
 
She was in a complete trance. Her lips parted on their own. Her tongue slowly slid out, pink and wet, as if her body had already decided it needed that dark, heavy cock in her mouth. She leaned forward slightly, mouth open, ready to take the thick head between her lips.
 
Bhola’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind. He pulled her head back firmly, stopping her just short of reaching him.
 
“Abhi nehi, Bhabhi.”
“Not yet, Bhabhi.”
 
He kicked his pants completely off and climbed onto the bed. In one strong motion he slipped both hands under her armpits and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Simran gasped as her naked body left the mattress. He carried her the short distance to the head of the bed and set her down so her back was pressed firmly against the bedrest. Then he took both of her wrists in one large hand, pulled her arms straight up, and pinned them against the wall above her head.
 

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

The position forced her chest forward. Her gigantic, milk-heavy breasts jutted out obscenely, the soft globes pushed together and upward, nipples stiff and dark. The silver waist chain he had just put on her glinted against her soft belly. The anklet on her left leg caught the light every time she shifted.
 
Bhola stood in front of her on the bed, completely naked. His massive cock was now perfectly level with her face. The dark, swollen head hovered just inches from her open mouth. She could smell him — thick, musky, male. She could see every vein, every ridge, the shiny bead of precum at the tip.
 
Simran opened her mouth wider and stuck her tongue out again, trying to lean forward and take that thick, dark head inside. Her tongue stretched toward it, desperate.
 
Bhola’s grip on her wrists tightened. He held her arms firmly against the wall, keeping her body pinned in place so she could not move even an inch closer. The fat head of his cock stayed just out of reach — close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from it, close enough that her tongue almost brushed it, but never quite enough to take it in.
 
She tried again, straining against his hold, tongue out, mouth open, eyes fixed on the heavy, dark cock that was teasing her.
 
A thin string of saliva slipped from her lower lip and stretched downward. Another drop followed, falling onto the upper curve of her left breast. She kept her mouth open, tongue out, making soft, frustrated, needy sounds as she tried and failed to reach the thick head that hovered right in front of her.
 
Bhola watched her struggle, his cock twitching in the air between them, the heavy balls hanging low beneath it. He kept her wrists locked against the wall, forcing her to stay exactly where he wanted — breasts thrust out, mouth open and watering, completely unable to take what she so clearly wanted.
 
The thick, dark cock stayed just beyond the tip of her tongue, glistening, waiting.
 
Simran’s mouth stayed wide open, tongue out, eyes locked on the thick, dark cock hovering just out of reach. Saliva was no longer just a thin string. It was dripping freely now, the way a hungry dog’s mouth waters when it sees meat. Thick, clear spit ran over her lower lip, down her chin, and fell onto the upper slope of her right breast. From there it travelled slowly into the deep valley of her cleavage, leaving a shiny wet trail between her gigantic, soft tits.
 
Bhola’s cock was throbbing hard in the air between them. Every pulse made the heavy shaft twitch. A fat bead of precum swelled at the tip of the dark, swollen head. It grew heavier, stretched, and then began to fall in a long, thin, continuous strand — a shiny, sticky thread of his juice hanging in the air right above her open mouth. Simran’s eyes followed it with pure desperation. A soft, needy moan left her throat. She looked up at him with wet, pleading eyes, exactly like a puppy that had been told to wait for its food.
 
Bhola watched her for a long moment. He was deliberately training her — this sexy, voluptuous Punjaban who had been riding his cock earlier and was now reduced to sitting naked with her hands pinned, mouth open, and spit running down her tits.
 
He shifted his hips slightly. The long string of precum swung and then broke, landing with a soft wet sound on the upper curve of her right breast. The clear drop slowly trickled down the soft, heavy flesh, following the full round shape of her tit until it disappeared under the curve.
 
Simran whimpered.
 
“Please… Bhola… dena… please…”
“Please… Bhola… give it… please…”
 
Bhola looked down at her, his cock still twitching above her face.
 
“Kya dena, Bhabhi? Kya chahiye aapko?”
“Give what, Bhabhi? What do you want?”
 
Simran’s face burned with embarrassment, but her hunger was stronger. Her voice came out soft and shaky.
 
“Tera… lund. Please… mujhe aapka lund chahiye.”
“Your… cock. Please… I want your cock.”
 
“Lund se kya karogi?”
“What will you do with the cock?”, he asked, his voice low and rough. He kept her wrists pinned firmly against the wall.
 
She swallowed, more saliva spilling from the corner of her mouth.
 
“Main… main usko choosungi. Main uske saath khelna chahti hoon. Main usko khaana chahti hoon. Please… muh mein do…”
“I… I’ll suck it. I want to play with it. I want to eat it. Please… put it in my mouth…”
 
Bhola’s cock pulsed harder at her words. Another small bead of precum formed at the tip.
 
“Nahi,” he said firmly.
 
“Jab tak main na bolun, aap mere lund ko haath nahi lagaogi. Touch nahi karogi. Promise karo.”
“Until I say so, you won’t put your hand on my cock. You won’t touch it. Promise.”
 
Simran shook her head slightly, still straining against his grip, trying to get closer to the thick, dark head that was so close yet denied to her.
 
“Itna bura mat bano… please… dena na… muh mein hi dena…”
“Don’t be so mean… please… give it na… just put it in my mouth…”
 
Bhola’s free hand suddenly grabbed her right breast. His fingers sank into the soft, heavy flesh and squeezed. A thick white drop of milk immediately beaded at her nipple and began to run down. He squeezed again, harder, forcing more milk out while he stared into her eyes.
 
““Promise, Bhabhi. Otherwise you won’t even get it in your mouth today. Promise.”
“Promise karo, Bhabhi. Warna aaj muh mein bhi nahi milega. Promise.”
 
Simran’s voice broke with need.
 
“Main… main kuch bhi karungi. Promise. Main promise karti hoon. Please… ab dena…”
“I… I’ll do anything. Promise. I promise. Please… give it now…”
 
Bhola held her gaze for another second, then slowly released her wrists. Her arms lowered, but she kept them at her sides, remembering his order. She did not reach for his cock.
 
“Muh kholo,” he said. “Jab tak main na bolun, band mat karna.”
“Open your mouth,” he said. “Don’t close it until I say so.”
 
Simran immediately opened her mouth wide again, tongue resting flat, waiting. Her eyes were glassy with lust.
 
Bhola stepped closer on the bed until the thick, dark cock was positioned directly above her open mouth. The heavy, swollen head hovered just above her tongue. Another clear drop of precum gathered at the slit, grew heavy, and then fell.
 
It landed straight on her tongue.
 
Simran’s eyes fluttered at the taste, but she kept her mouth open exactly as he had ordered, the single drop of his precum sitting on her tongue while more saliva continued to drip from her lips onto her bare, milk-streaked breasts.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Bhola slowly stepped down from the bed, his heavy cock swaying thick and hard between his legs as his feet touched the floor. The moment he was standing, Simran moved.
 
She dropped forward onto her hands and knees without being told. Her body shifted into the position of a dog — back arched slightly, head low, ass raised high. She began crawling toward him across the bed, then onto the floor, her movements slow and deliberate. Every step of her hands and knees made her massive ass sway heavily from side to side.
 
From behind, the view was pure filth.
 
Her gigantic, heart-shaped ass dominated the sight — two enormous, milky-white globes that were soft yet heavy, the flesh jiggling with every crawl. The deep cleft between them was dark and inviting. Lower, her thighs were thick, smooth, and powerful, the soft inner skin rubbing together faintly as she moved. Her calf muscles flexed with each forward push of her knees, the rounded shape of her lower legs tight and feminine. Between those thick thighs her pussy was fully on display. The outer lips were puffy and swollen from earlier use, a deep pink that looked wet and used. They were slightly parted, revealing the glistening inner folds. A single thick drop of her clear, sticky juice had gathered at the bottom of her slit and was slowly trickling down the soft skin of her right inner thigh, leaving a shiny trail. Just above her pussy, her tight pink asshole winked slightly with every movement of her hips, clean and small against the pale flesh surrounding it.
 
As she crawled, her heavy breasts hung straight down toward the mattress and then the floor. The gigantic, milk-filled globes swayed heavily with every motion, the soft flesh swinging and clapping softly against each other. Her dark nipples were stiff. A single white drop of milk beaded at the tip of her left nipple, grew heavier, and then fell with a soft *pat* onto the bedsheet below. Her mouth was still open exactly as he had ordered, tongue resting inside, strings of saliva still connecting her lower lip to her chin. Her eyes were glassy and fixed on his cock as she crawled closer, looking up at him with pure, shameless hunger.
 
Bhola’s cock twitched hard at the sight. The thick shaft pulsed, the dark head swelling even more as another bead of precum formed at the tip. The heavy balls between his legs drew up slightly.
 
If only Ravi could see this.
 
If only her husband could see how his wife looked right now — completely naked except for the waist chain and anklet, crawling on the floor like a bitch in heat toward the servant’s cock, her huge ass raised, her pussy dripping, milk leaking from her tits, mouth open and watering. If only he knew what his Bhabhi had become in this room.
 
When she reached him, Bhola bent down, grabbed a thick fistful of her hair from behind, and pulled her head up. He leaned in and crushed his mouth against hers in a deep, wet smooch. His tongue pushed into her open mouth, tasting her saliva as he kissed her hard.
 
He pulled back just enough to speak against her lips, his voice low and rough.
 
“Bhabhi… aap itni achchi lag rahi ho. Aap nangi bahot achchi dikhti ho. Aise hi rehna. Hamesha aise hi.”
“Bhabhi… you look so good. You look so beautiful naked. Stay like this. Always like this.”
 
Simran whimpered into the kiss, her open mouth still obeying, more saliva dripping down her chin onto her hanging breasts.
 
Then Bhola released her hair and moved behind her.
 
He dropped to his knees on the floor, his face level with the gigantic ass she was presenting. Up close the view was even more obscene. Her thick cheeks were spread slightly by the position, her puffy, wet pussy fully open and glistening, the drop of juice still slowly running down her right thigh. Her tight asshole sat right above it, soft and pink.
 
Bhola leaned in, stuck his thick tongue out, and dragged it slowly upward along the wet trail of her pussy juice on her thigh, collecting the sticky fluid. Then he moved higher and pressed his tongue flat against her dripping cunt, licking upward through her swollen folds to taste her directly.
 
Simran’s whole body shuddered as his tongue made contact.
Simran’s face burned with embarrassment. She was still on her hands and knees on the floor, completely naked except for the silver waist chain around her soft midriff and the anklet on her left leg. Her heavy breasts hung down, nipples stiff, a faint trail of dried saliva and milk on her skin. Her huge ass was raised high, pussy exposed and glistening.
 
She turned her head slightly, voice shaky and low.
 
“Bhola… yeh kya kar rahe ho? Itni sharam aati hai… aise mat dekho… “
“Bhola… what are you doing? I’m so embarrassed… don’t look at me like that…”
 
Bhola didn’t answer with words at first. He leaned in from behind and planted a soft, deliberate kiss right on the puffy, swollen petals of her pussy. His lips pressed against the wet folds, tasting the thin film of her juice.
 
Simran’s whole body shivered hard.
 
“Aaahhh…”
 
Bhola pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against her cunt.
 
“Bhabhi… aapki choot itni sundar dikh rahi hai aise. Gulabi, geeli, thodi si khuli hui… bilkul jaise koi phool. Aur yeh badi-badi gaand… waist chain ke saath dekh ke lagta hai jaise koi rani nangi baithi ho. Please… thoda hilaao na apni gaand, Bhabhi. Dekhte hi mera lund aur sakht ho jaata hai.”
“Bhabhi… your pussy looks so beautiful like this. Pink, wet, a little open… just like a flower. And this big ass… with the waist chain it looks like a queen sitting naked. Please… move your ass a little, Bhabhi. Just looking at it makes my cock even harder.”
 
Simran’s face was on fire. She was about to say something when the sharp ring of her phone cut through the room.
 
Bhola stood up, walked to the side table, and picked up the phone. The screen showed **Jasleen – Bangalore**.
 
Simran immediately tried to get up.
 
“Bhola… phone do… main uth jaati hoon—”
“Bhola… give me the phone… I’m getting up—”
 
He placed a firm hand on her lower back, keeping her exactly where she was — on all fours, ass up.
 
“Mat utho, Bhabhi. Aise hi baat karo.”
“Don’t get up, Bhabhi. Talk just like this.”
 
“Nahi… Bhola… please…”
“No… Bhola… please…”
 
But he had already swiped to answer. He put the phone on speaker for a second, then held it out to her. Simran glared at him with an angry, helpless smile — the kind that mixed irritation with the knowledge that she was already too far gone to fight properly. She took the phone with one hand, keeping the other on the floor for balance, and stayed on her knees.
 
“Hello… Jasleen?”

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Her sister’s bright voice came through.
 
“Simmuuu! Finally. Kitni der se try kar rahi thi. Phone kahan tha tera?”
“Simmuuu! Finally. I’ve been trying for so long. Where was your phone?”
 
Simran tried to keep her voice normal, even as she felt Bhola’s presence behind her again.
 
“Sorry… bathroom mein thi thodi der. Sab theek hai?”
“Sorry… I was in the bathroom for a bit. Is everything okay?”
 
“Haan-haan. Sun, Ravi ke baare mein poochna tha. Usne kaha tha Bangalore meeting ke baad milne aayega, lekin abhi tak koi clear message nahi. Tumse baat hui uski?”
“Yes-yes. Listen, I wanted to ask about Ravi. He said he’d come meet after the Bangalore meeting, but there’s still no clear message. Did he talk to you?”
 
Simran shifted slightly on her knees. The waist chain moved against her soft belly.
 
“Haan… usne kaha tha meeting ke baad time nikalne ki koshish karega. Lekin Korea flight uski jaldi hai na… shayad tight ho. Maine kaha tha agar time mile toh zaroor mil lena tum logon se.”
“Yes… he said he’d try to make time after the meeting. But his Korea flight is soon… it might be tight. I told him if he gets time he should definitely meet you all.”
 
Jasleen sighed on the other end.
 
“Haan yaar. Rajiv bhi bol raha tha ki Ravi aaye toh dinner plan karte hain. Bahut din ho gaye milay. Ghar ka kya haal hai? Akeli toh nahi feel kar rahi na?”
“Yeah. Rajiv was also saying if Ravi comes we should plan dinner. It’s been so long since we met. How’s home? You’re not feeling lonely, right?”
 
Simran’s eyes flicked up as Bhola stepped in front of her. He was completely naked, his massive dark cock standing rigid. He held it at the base and slowly shook it in front of her face. The heavy shaft swayed. A thick bead of precum had gathered at the slit of the swollen head and was starting to stretch.
 
Simran’s mouth opened on its own. Her tongue came out and licked the clear drop of precum from the tip. The salty-sweet taste spread across her tongue. Bhola allowed it for a second, then suddenly pushed his hips forward. Only the fat, dark cock head slid past her lips and into her mouth. It stretched her lips wide. She moaned around it — a soft, wet sound that she quickly tried to turn into a normal response.
 
“Mmm… nahi… akeli nahi feel kar rahi. Ghar theek hai. Bhola sab sambhal leta hai.”
“Mmm… no… I’m not feeling lonely. Home is fine. Bhola handles everything.”
 
She spoke with the thick head still resting on her tongue. Her voice came out slightly muffled and breathy.
 
Jasleen continued, unaware.
 
“Achha hai. Main toh soch rahi thi tu bore ho rahi hogi. Ravi ke jaane ke baad ghar sunsaan lagta hoga. Kabhi Bangalore aa jaa na. Bachchon ko bhi bahut din ho gaye mausi se mile.”
“That’s good. I was thinking you must be getting bored. After Ravi left the house must feel empty. Come to Bangalore sometime. The kids haven’t met their mausi in a long time either.”
 
Bhola slowly pulled his cock out of her mouth. A thin string of saliva and precum connected her lower lip to the shiny head for a moment before breaking. He moved back behind her without a word.
 
Simran stayed exactly as she was — on all fours, phone pressed to her ear, ass raised high.
 
“Haan… sochti hoon kabhi. Lekin abhi Ravi ka schedule tight hai. Korea se wapas aake shayad thoda free ho.”
“Yes… I think about it sometimes. But Ravi’s schedule is tight right now. After he comes back from Korea he might be a bit free.”
 
Behind her, Bhola dropped to his knees again. He leaned in close. First he just breathed her in — a long, deep sniff of her wet, exposed pussy. The musky-sweet scent of her arousal filled his nose. Then his tongue came out and dragged slowly through her swollen folds, collecting the fresh juice that had gathered there.
 
Simran’s free hand clenched against the floor. A soft, involuntary moan slipped out before she could stop it.
 
“Mmm… a-aaisa hi hai. Ghar mein sab normal chal raha hai. Khaana-peena theek hai. Tu bata… Rajiv kaisa hai? Office ka pressure toh nahi hai zyada?”
“Mmm… y-yes like that. Everything at home is running normally. Food and all is fine. You tell me… how is Rajiv? Office pressure isn’t too much, right?”
 
Jasleen launched into a long update about Rajiv’s office, some project deadline, how the kids were asking about their mausi, and whether Simran had thought about visiting during the next holidays. The conversation kept going — ordinary sister talk about family, houses, Ravi’s travel, and plans.
 
All the while, Bhola stayed behind her, face buried between her thick thighs, slowly and thoroughly licking her dripping pussy. His tongue moved in long, wet strokes from her clit down to her entrance and back up, sometimes pushing slightly inside, sometimes circling her puffy outer lips. Every time he pressed particularly firmly, Simran’s voice would catch or soften for a second before she forced it back to normal.
 
She remained on her hands and knees, waist chain glinting, anklet visible on her left leg, heavy breasts hanging, mouth still slightly open from earlier, while her sister continued talking and Bhola continued eating her cunt with slow, filthy focus.
 
The conversation was nowhere near finished.
 
Simran stayed exactly as she was — on her hands and knees on the floor, phone pressed to one ear, ass raised high, the silver waist chain glinting against her soft midriff. Her heavy breasts hung freely, swaying slightly every time she shifted her weight. Behind her, Bhola’s tongue was still working slowly through her wet folds when Jasleen’s voice continued brightly on the other end.
 
“Haan toh main bol rahi thi, Ravi agar is baar mil gaya toh usko bolna ki next time longer stay kare. Rajiv uske saath kuch project discuss karna chahta hai. Aur haan, tumhare ghar ka kya scene hai? Akeli reh ke bore toh nahi ho rahi?”
“Yes so I was saying, if Ravi meets this time tell him to stay longer next time. Rajiv wants to discuss some project with him. And yes, what’s the scene at your house? You’re not getting bored living alone?”
 
Simran forced her voice to stay even.
 
“Nahi… bore nahi. Ghar theek chal raha hai. Bhola sab dekh leta hai. Khaana, safai, sab.”
“No… not bored. Home is running fine. Bhola looks after everything. Food, cleaning, everything.”
 
While she spoke, Bhola moved. He slid underneath her from the side, lying on his back so that his face was directly under her heavy, hanging breasts. The moment his mouth found her left nipple, he latched on hard — the way a hungry cub latches onto a cow’s udder. He sucked with long, deep pulls, cheeks hollowing, drawing thick streams of warm milk into his mouth. His hands came up and grabbed both soft, gigantic globes from below, squeezing and pulling them downward so the nipples stretched toward his lips.
 

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

There is a lot of stuff yet to be posted. But it increasingly is getting difficult to keep it just cheating. Well it's been quite sometime now that I had posted. Things suddenly creep up like you did not even see coming. How are you guys? I am so sorry for keeping you guys wait so long. I tried pushing this story to someone else but I couldn't find any. I did get contacted by some assholes but cant help those. 

Let me know how you guys feel about our cow Simran and do post some pics for spreading love. 

[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.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Bhola kept the thick head of his cock pressed against Simran’s open, dripping pussy, rubbing it slowly up and down through her swollen folds. The fat, dark crown would catch at her entrance, stretch the soft pink lips for a second, then slide upward over her clit before dragging back down again. Each pass smeared more of her clear, sticky juice along the heavy shaft. The wet sounds were soft but filthy — a continuous, slippery *schlick… schlick…* that mixed with Jasleen’s voice on the phone.
 
Simran’s free hand was still planted on the floor. Her voice stayed as steady as she could manage.
 
“Haan Jasleen… Ravi ka schedule dekh ke bataungi. Korea se wapas aane ke baad hi clear hoga. Abhi toh—”
“Yes Jasleen… I’ll check Ravi’s schedule and tell you. It will only be clear after he comes back from Korea. Right now—”
 
Bhola suddenly pulled his hips back. The thick cock left her pussy with a wet sound. Simran felt the sudden emptiness and almost whimpered, but she bit it back. Behind her, Bhola dropped lower. First he only breathed her in — a long, deep inhale right against her dripping cunt. The musky-sweet scent of her arousal filled his nose. Then his tongue came out.
 
He licked her slowly, flat and thorough, from the bottom of her slit all the way up to her clit. He did it again. And again. Long, greedy strokes that collected every drop of juice she was leaking. His tongue pushed between the puffy outer lips, spread them open, and dragged over the sensitive inner folds. Simran’s thighs trembled.
 
“Mmm… haan… ghar mein sab theek hai. Bore nahi ho rahi…”
“Mmm… yes… everything at home is fine. I’m not getting bored…”
 
Bhola’s tongue moved higher. He pressed the tip against the tight, pink ring of her asshole and circled it once, then again. Simran’s whole body jerked. A soft, shocked sound escaped her before she could stop it. He licked the small, clean hole more deliberately — slow, wet circles, then a firm press that made the muscle twitch against his tongue. At the same time his nose stayed buried against her dripping pussy, breathing her in while he ate her ass.
 
Simran’s voice cracked.
 
“Jasleen… main… thoda busy hoon abhi. Baad mein—”
“Jasleen… I’m… a bit busy right now. Later—”
 
Jasleen was still talking, something about the kids wanting to video-call their mausi, when the orgasm hit Simran without warning.
 
Her right hand flew up and clamped hard over her mouth. The sudden movement forced her upper body lower toward the floor. Her back arched sharply and her huge, soft ass pushed up and out, presenting everything even more shamelessly to Bhola. Her eyes squeezed shut. A long, muffled moan vibrated against her palm as her pussy clenched and released in strong waves. Clear, thick juice poured out of her in a sudden rush, running down her inner thighs and dripping onto the floor in sticky strands. Her heavy breasts hung lower, swaying with every tremor that ran through her body. The silver waist chain shifted against her soft belly.
 
Bhola didn’t stop. While she was still coming, he gripped his thick cock at the base and pressed the swollen, dark head back against her spasming pussy. He rubbed it firmly through the flood of her juices, sliding the fat crown up and down over her clit and open entrance while her cunt kept pulsing. Every time her walls clenched, more juice coated his cock head. He kept rubbing her through the entire orgasm, slow and deliberate, making the wet sounds louder.
 
Simran’s hand was still pressed tightly over her mouth. Her body shook. Tears of pure overload stood in the corners of her eyes. Through the haze she somehow managed to lower the phone just enough and end the call mid-sentence. The screen went dark. Jasleen’s voice cut off abruptly.
 
She stayed on her hands and knees, breathing hard against her own palm, ass still raised high, pussy still twitching and leaking heavily around the thick cock head that Bhola continued to rub slowly through her soaked folds. Milk had beaded again at both nipples from the force of the orgasm and was beginning to trickle down the undersides of her hanging breasts.
 
Bhola’s voice came from behind her, low and rough.
 
“Bhabhi… ab phone band ho gaya. Ab aap free hain.”
“Bhabhi… the phone is off now. Now you are free.”
 
He kept the heavy head of his cock pressed right against her open, cum-slick pussy, waiting.
 
Simran was still trying to catch her breath, her body trembling from the orgasm that had just ripped through her. Her right hand was still near her mouth, her back arched, ass pushed high. Clear juice continued to leak from her open, swollen pussy and run down her inner thighs in sticky trails.
 
Bhola didn’t give her time.
 
He gripped the thick base of his cock, lined the fat, dark head up against her dripping entrance, and began to push. The swollen crown pressed against her soft, cum-slick folds and started forcing them open. Simran’s eyes flew open in shock.
 
“Bhola… ruk… aaahhh… bahut bada… aaahhh…!”
“Bhola… stop… aaahhh… it’s too big… aaahhh…!”
 
He ignored the words and kept pushing. Inch by thick inch the heavy shaft sank into her. Her pussy stretched obscenely around the dark, veiny cock, the soft pink lips gripping and spreading wider as more of him disappeared inside. The stretch was brutal. She could feel every ridge, every throbbing vein as he forced himself deeper.
 
“Aaaahhhhh… Bhola… dard… aaahhh… dheere… aaahhh…!”
 
Her voice broke into loud, raw moans. Tears of sharp, overwhelming sensation pricked at the corners of her eyes. Bhola kept going until a good portion of his massive length was buried inside her tight, married cunt. He paused only for a second, then slowly pulled back until just the fat head remained stretching her entrance.
 
Then he shoved.
 
The hard, sudden thrust drove him deep in one powerful stroke. Simran’s whole body jerked forward.
 
“AAAAHHHHHH… BHOLAAA…!”
 
The cry was loud and broken. Her heavy breasts swung hard beneath her with the impact. The silver waist chain shifted against her soft belly. Bhola’s right leg was planted firmly beside her right thigh; his left leg was folded, knee down near her left thigh, giving him the perfect angle and power. Both of his large hands locked onto the wide, soft curves of her hips, fingers sinking into the flesh as he held her in place.
 
He set a deliberate rhythm.
 
Slow, almost gentle pull-back — the thick cock sliding out until her pussy lips clung desperately to the ridge of the head — then a sudden, full-force shove that buried him deep again. Every hard thrust made her gigantic ass ripple and jiggle. Every impact sent her heavy, milk-filled breasts swinging forward in big, pendulous arcs. Milk beaded at her nipples from the force and began to drip onto the floor.
 
“Bhabhi… aapki choot itni tight hai,” Bhola growled behind her, voice rough and filthy. “Itni geeli, phir bhi itni kas ke pakad rahi hai mere lund ko. Dekho kaise khaa rahi hai pura.”
“Bhabhi… your pussy is so tight,” Bhola growled behind her, voice rough and filthy. “So wet, yet still gripping my cock so hard. Look how it’s swallowing the whole thing.”
 
He pulled back slowly again, watching the thick, shiny shaft emerge coated in her white, creamy juices, then slammed forward hard.
 
“Ugh—! Aaaahhh… Bhola… bahut andar… aaahhh… aaahhh…!”
 
Simran felt it. Every brutal shove made the fat head of his cock feel like it was punching against the deepest part of her, pressing up toward her stomach. The pressure was intense, almost nauseating in its depth, mixed with a dark, spreading pleasure that made her toes curl against the floor.
 
Bhola kept the same merciless pattern. Slow retreat. Hard, dominant shove. Slow retreat. Hard shove. Each time his hips met her soft ass with a loud, wet slap. Each time her pussy made a filthy, squelching sound as it was forced to take him. He was showing her exactly who was inside her — claiming her with every stroke, the bull methodically breeding his cow.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Yeh choot ab meri hai, Bhabhi,”
“This pussy is mine now, Bhabhi,” he said between thrusts, hands tightening on her hips as he pulled her back onto his cock with every hard shove.
 
“Itna bada lund aapki shaadi-shuda choot mein… aur aap rone ke baawajood geeli ho rahi ho. Dekho kitna paani nikal raha hai. Meri gaay ban ke taras rahi ho.”
“Such a big cock in your married pussy… and even while crying you’re getting wet. Look how much water is coming out. You’re dying to become my cow.”
 
Simran’s arms were shaking. Her face was half-turned into her shoulder, mouth open, loud broken moans spilling out with every deep impact.
 
“Aaaahhh… aaahhh… Bhola… dheere… nahi… aaahhh… zor se… aaahhh… pet mein… aaahhh…!”
 
He didn’t slow down. He kept the same rhythm — deliberate, powerful, possessive. Slow pull until she almost felt empty, then a savage thrust that filled her completely and made her heavy tits swing hard. The waist chain bounced against her soft stomach. Her puffy pussy lips were stretched tight around the thick base of his cock every time he bottomed out. Juice kept leaking out around his shaft and running down her thighs in shiny streams.
 
Bhola leaned over her slightly, still gripping her hips, still fucking her with that same slow-out, hard-in rhythm, his voice low and filthy right above her.
 
“Rona mat, Bhabhi. Yeh dard ke saath maza bhi aa raha hai na? Bolo. Bolo ki aapko mera lund andar chahiye. Apni gaand upar utha ke le rahi ho pura… jaise sach mein meri gaay ho.”
“Don’t cry, Bhabhi. This pain is also giving you pleasure, right? Say it. Say you want my cock inside. You’re lifting your ass and taking the whole thing… like you really are my cow.”
 
Simran could only moan loudly in answer, tears of overwhelming sensation on her cheeks, her body jolting forward with every powerful shove as her servant’s massive cock kept claiming her deep, over and over.
 
Simran’s arms finally gave out.
 
The relentless, deep pounding had left her shaking and overstimulated. With a broken cry she collapsed forward onto her stomach, her heavy breasts flattening against the bedsheets. The moment her body went flat, her thick thighs pressed tightly together, squeezing around the thick shaft still buried inside her and almost cutting off his access. The sudden tightness made her pussy clamp down hard around him.
 
Bhola’s cock reacted instantly.
 
It throbbed angrily inside the sudden constriction, as if offended by the restriction. A low, animal growl left his throat. He didn’t pull out. Instead he planted his hands on either side of her waist and began fucking her harder and faster, forcing his thick length in and out of the narrow, closed space between her clamped thighs. Every thrust had to fight its way through the soft pressure of her legs. The wet, filthy sounds became louder and more desperate — thick, squelching noises mixed with the heavy slap of his hips against her ass.
 
“Aaahhh… Bhola… chhod do… aaahhh… bahut ho gaya… please… aaahhh!” Simran cried out, her face turned sideways against the mattress, voice breaking with every brutal stroke.
 
He didn’t listen. He kept driving into her from behind while she lay face-down, legs closed, her huge ass jiggling violently under the force of his hips. Milk leaked from her compressed nipples onto the sheets. The silver waist chain dug into her soft belly with every impact.
 
She tried to escape.
 
Using whatever strength she had left, Simran began crawling forward on her elbows, trying to drag herself out from under him and off his cock. She managed only a few inches before Bhola’s hand shot out and locked around her right ankle. He yanked her back hard. Her body slid across the sheets toward him again. In the same motion he lined himself up and shoved the entire thick length back inside her stretched pussy in one powerful stroke.
 
“AAAAHHHH…!”
 
He fell forward on top of her, covering her completely with his heavier body. His chest pressed against her back. Both of his large hands found her wrists and pinned them to the mattress above her head. His feet slid between her ankles, placing his legs on the inside of hers. For a moment he stayed like that — buried deep, holding her down, breathing hard against the side of her neck.
 
Then he moved.
 
In one strong, coordinated motion he rolled them both over. Because his legs were already between hers, the roll forced her onto her back on top of him — but the result was not a normal straddle. As he turned, his own legs opened outward in a wide V. Since her legs were trapped on the outside of his, the spreading of his thighs forced her thick thighs to open wider and wider against her will. Her knees were pushed farther apart until her legs were completely spread, her pussy fully exposed and stretched around the thick base of his cock. She ended up lying on top of him, chest to chest, but with her legs forced obscenely open by the pressure of his thighs from the inside.
 
It was an embarrassing, helpless position.
 
Her heavy breasts were crushed against his chest. The waist chain pressed into both of their stomachs. Her open pussy was fully on display from below, the puffy lips stretched tight around his dark, veiny shaft. Because her legs were locked wide by his, she could not close them or regain any control. She was completely open, completely available, and completely pinned.
 
Simran’s eyes were wide with confusion and overload.
 
“Bhola… yeh… aaahhh… kya… aaahhh…!”
 
He pushed his hips upward and drove his thick cock back into her from below. The angle was deep and merciless. Every upward thrust made the fat head feel like it was pressing against her stomach from the inside. The stretch burned. Her walls fluttered and clenched around the massive intrusion as he began fucking her in steady, powerful strokes from underneath.
 
His right hand released one of her wrists only long enough to grab a full handful of her left breast. He mauling the soft, heavy flesh roughly — squeezing, lifting, and compressing it so that milk beaded and ran down onto his chest. His left hand slid between their bodies, found the swollen pearl of her clit, and began rubbing it in firm, wet circles in time with his thrusts.
 
His mouth was right beside her cheek. Simran turned her head on instinct and their lips met in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. She moaned into his mouth with every deep upward thrust, the sound muffled and desperate.
 
Bhola kept fucking her from below, legs still forcing hers wide open, one hand mauling her breast, the other rubbing her clit, tongue pushing into her mouth. The position left her with no escape and no way to hide how completely she was being used.
 
“Bhabhi… dekho kaise khol diya maine aapko,” he growled against her lips between kisses, voice thick and filthy. “Itni badi gaand, itni bhari chuchiyan, aur yeh tight choot… sab mera. Rona mat. Le lo pura. Aapki choot ab meri hai… aur main isko aise hi chodta rahunga.”
“Bhabhi… look how I’ve opened you up,” he growled against her lips between kisses, voice thick and filthy. “Such a big ass, such heavy boobs, and this tight pussy… all mine. Don’t cry. Take it all. Your pussy is mine now… and I’ll keep fucking it just like this.”
 
Every hard upward thrust made her heavy breasts bounce and drag against his chest. Milk continued to leak. Her open pussy made loud, wet sounds as it was forced to take the full thick length again and again. The waist chain jingled faintly between their bodies. Simran could only moan into his mouth, legs forced wide, wrists still partially pinned, completely caught in the filthy, dominant position he had put her in.
 
Simran’s body was trapped in the most embarrassing, open position she had ever been in. Her thick thighs were forced wide by Bhola’s legs from the inside, her knees locked apart, her swollen, stretched pussy completely exposed and wrapped tightly around the thick, dark shaft that kept driving up into her from below. Every upward thrust made the fat head punch deep against her cervix. Milk continued to leak from the breast he was mauling with his right hand. His left fingers rubbed firm, wet circles over her swollen clit. Their mouths stayed locked in a messy, open kiss, tongues sliding, saliva mixing.
 

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

She needed him to finish. Her pussy was already raw and oversensitive from the long, brutal fucking. If he came, she might finally get some relief. So she started talking.

She broke the kiss just enough to speak against his lips, her voice low, shaky, and filthy.
 
“Bhola… sun… agar Ravi agle kamre mein so raha ho… door band ho… aur main teri godi mein nangi baithi hoon… waist chain aur anklet ke alawa kuch nahi… toh tu kya karega? Kaise control karega apne lund ko?”
“Bhola… listen… if Ravi is sleeping in the next room… door closed… and I’m sitting naked in your lap… nothing but the waist chain and anklet… then what will you do? How will you control your cock?”
 
Bhola’s hips slammed upward harder in answer. The thick cock forced her walls open with a wet, filthy sound.
 
“Control? Bhabhi… main control nahi karunga. Main aapki choot mein lund daal ke aise hi chodunga. Ravi ke sone ki awaaz aati rahegi aur main aapki gaand pakad ke neeche se dhakka maarta rahunga. Aapki chuchiyan mere muh mein hongi, doodh nikal raha hoga, aur main bolunga — chup chap le lo, Bhabhi. Shose ke peeche aapki choot meri hai.”
“Control? Bhabhi… I won’t control. I’ll put my cock in your pussy and fuck you just like this. The sound of Ravi sleeping will keep coming and I’ll hold your ass and thrust from below. Your boobs will be in my mouth, milk coming out, and I’ll say — quietly take it, Bhabhi. Behind the noise your pussy is mine.”
 
Simran moaned loudly at the words and the extra force of his thrusts. She kept going, painting the next picture while he rubbed her clit faster.
 
“Aur agar kitchen mein ho… main khana bana rahi hoon… sirf apron pehna ho… neeche kuch nahi… aur tu peeche se aake apron utha de… toh? Tu kaise rokega khud ko?”
“And if we’re in the kitchen… I’m cooking… only wearing an apron… nothing underneath… and you come from behind and lift the apron… then? How will you stop yourself?”
 
Bhola growled against her cheek and drove up into her with short, powerful strokes that made her heavy breasts bounce and drag across his chest. Milk smeared between them.
 
“Main nahi rokunga, Bhabhi. Main aapko counter pe jhuka dunga. Apron upar karke aapki badi gaand ko kholunga aur seedha lund andar dhakel dunga. Choolhe ki aag ke saamne aapki choot ko chodunga. Aapki chuchiyan counter pe latak rahi hongi, doodh tapak raha hoga, aur main kehta rahunga — khana baad mein, pehle meri cum aapke andar jaaye. Kitchen ki hawa mein aapki geeli choot ki awaaz aayegi.”
“I won’t stop, Bhabhi. I’ll bend you over the counter. I’ll lift the apron, open your big ass and shove my cock straight inside. I’ll fuck your pussy in front of the stove fire. Your boobs will hang on the counter, milk dripping, and I’ll keep saying — food later, first my cum goes inside you. The sound of your wet pussy will fill the kitchen.”
 
Simran’s pussy clenched hard around him at the image. Juice leaked out around the thick base of his cock and ran down onto his balls. She was dripping, the wet sounds growing louder with every thrust.
 
She continued, voice more broken now.
 
“Aur agar Preeti neeche baithi ho… drawing room mein… aur hum upar ho… main teri godi mein is position mein… legs khuli hui… toh tu kya karega? Kaise control karega jab neeche uski awaaz aa rahi ho?”
“And if Preeti is sitting downstairs… in the drawing room… and we’re upstairs… me in your lap in this position… legs open… then what will you do? How will you control when her voice is coming from below?”
 
Bhola’s answer was another deep, punishing thrust that made her cry out. His fingers pinched her clit while his other hand squeezed her breast hard enough to force a fresh stream of milk.
 
“Control nahi, Bhabhi. Main aapko aur tez chodega. Preeti ke baat karne ki awaaz aati rahegi aur main aapki khuli hui taangon ke beech se lund pura andar tak dhakelta rahunga. Aapke muh pe haath rakh ke aapki choot ko phaadta rahunga. Jab who neeche coffee maangegi, tab main aapke andar jhadne wala honga. Aapki choot meri cum se bhar jaayegi aur aapko neeche jaake uske saamne normal baithna padega… meri nishani aapki taangon se chhalakti hui.”
“No control, Bhabhi. I’ll fuck you even harder. Preeti’s voice talking will keep coming and I’ll thrust my cock all the way inside between your open legs. I’ll cover your mouth and keep tearing your pussy. When she asks for coffee downstairs, I’ll be about to cum inside you. Your pussy will be filled with my cum and you’ll have to go down and sit normally in front of her… my mark dripping down your thighs.”
 
Simran’s eyes rolled back. The combination of his thick cock stretching her, the clit rubbing, the breast mauling, and the filthy words was pushing her toward another orgasm she wasn’t sure she could handle. She kept talking anyway, desperate to make him finish.
 
“Aur gaadi mein? Agar tu drive kar raha ho… main side mein nangi baithi hoon… sirf mangalsutra aur yeh waist chain… aur main teri lund ko haath mein leke sehla rahi hoon… toh? Red light pe tu kya karega?”
“And in the car? If you’re driving… I’m sitting naked beside you… only mangalsutra and this waist chain… and I’m holding your cock in my hand and stroking it… then? What will you do at the red light?”
 
Bhola’s hips became almost frantic. He fucked up into her with long, hard strokes, the fat head battering deep every time.
 
“Red light pe main gaadi rok ke aapko apni godi mein khinch lunga, Bhabhi. Aapki taangein khol ke seedha lund aapki choot mein ghusa dunga. Steering ke peeche aapki badi gaand meri jaanghon pe hogi aur main neeche se aise hi dhakka maarta rahunga. Bahar log nazar aa rahe honge… aur andar aap meri lund pe uchal rahi hongi. Main aapke kaan mein bolunga — log dekh rahe hain, lekin aapki choot abhi bhi meri hai. Cum andar hi lungi, Bhabhi. Bahar nahi nikalne dunga.”
“At the red light I’ll stop the car and pull you into my lap, Bhabhi. I’ll open your legs and shove my cock straight into your pussy. Your big ass will be on my thighs behind the steering and I’ll keep thrusting from below. People will be visible outside… and inside you’ll be bouncing on my cock. I’ll say in your ear — people are watching, but your pussy is still mine. I’ll cum inside only, Bhabhi. I won’t let it come out.”
 
Simran was shaking. Her forced-open legs trembled. Her pussy was making continuous wet, filthy noises as it was pounded from below. She could feel every thick inch of him, every vein, every time the ridge of the head dragged against her sensitive walls. Milk kept leaking from the breast he refused to stop mauling. Her clit was swollen and throbbing under his fingers.
 
She gave him one more scene, her voice almost a sob.
 
“Aur subah? Jab main so rahi hoon… nangi… sirf yeh chain aur anklet… aur tu subah uth ke dekhe… mera bada gaand aur meri geeli choot… toh? Tu kaise control karega khud ko? Mujhe sone dega?”
“And in the morning? When I’m sleeping… naked… only this chain and anklet… and you wake up and see… my big ass and my wet pussy… then? How will you control yourself? Will you let me sleep?”
 
Bhola’s answer was the hardest thrust yet. He buried himself to the hilt and stayed there for a second, grinding deep, before starting a rapid, punishing rhythm from below.
 
“Main aapko nahi sone dunga, Bhabhi. Main aapki taangein khol ke beech mein lit jaunga aur seedha lund andar daal dunga. Aapki neend mein hi aapki choot ko chodna shuru kar dunga. Jab aap aankh kholengi, tab tak mera lund aapke pet tak hoga. Main aapke kaan mein bolunga — subah ka doodh peene se pehle aapki choot ko paani pilana hai. Aapki badi chuchiyan mere muh mein hongi, aur main aapko subah ke pehle cum se bhar dunga. Control? Bhabhi… aapki nangi body dekh ke mera lund control nahi hota. Who sirf aapki choot mein ghusna jaanta hai.”
“I won’t let you sleep, Bhabhi. I’ll open your legs, lie between them and put my cock straight inside. I’ll start fucking your pussy while you’re still asleep. By the time you open your eyes, my cock will be up to your stomach. I’ll say in your ear — before drinking morning milk I have to water your pussy. Your big boobs will be in my mouth, and I’ll fill you with cum before morning. Control? Bhabhi… looking at your naked body my cock doesn’t stay in control. It only knows how to go inside your pussy.”
 
He kept fucking her harder with every scenario she painted. His cock felt thicker, hotter, more swollen inside her. The wet, slapping, squelching sounds of their joined bodies filled the bedroom. Simran’s forced-open pussy was being used without mercy, her clit rubbed continuously, her breast squeezed and milked, her mouth repeatedly claimed in messy kisses between the filthy words.
 
She had started the dirty talk to make him cum faster.
 
Instead, every scene she described only made him fuck her deeper and harder, turning her own words into fuel for the thick cock that kept claiming her from below.
 

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

 

Bhola’s voice came out rough and hungry against Simran’s cheek.

“Bhabhi… ab main aapka dudu peena chahta hoon.”
“Bhabhi… now I want to drink your milk.”

Before she could answer he moved. With one strong roll he turned her so she was fully on her back beneath him, her thick thighs still forced wide. The thick, glistening shaft slipped almost all the way out during the turn. The moment she was flat on the mattress he lined the fat, dark head back up against her open, cum-slick pussy and drove forward in one long, continuous thrust.

“Aaaahhhhh… Bhola…!”

The entire length sank into her again. Her pussy stretched wide around the heavy girth, the soft pink lips gripping the veiny shaft as he buried himself to the hilt. Her swollen clit was crushed against his body. The silver waist chain pressed between their stomachs.

Bhola wasted no time.

He lowered his head and latched onto her left breast like a starving animal. His mouth opened wide, taking as much of the soft, heavy flesh as he could, and then he sucked hard — long, deep, rhythmic pulls that drew thick streams of warm milk straight into his throat. Wet, filthy gulping sounds filled the room as he drank. His tongue flicked and pressed against the stiff nipple while his lips stayed sealed tightly around the areola. Milk leaked from the corners of his mouth and ran down the side of her breast.

At the same time his hips began to move.

He fucked her like a jackhammer.

Short, fast, brutal strokes. There was no slow pull-back anymore. His thick cock pistoned in and out of her stretched pussy with rapid, powerful thrusts that made the wet, slapping sounds continuous and loud. Every impact drove the fat head deep against her cervix. Her heavy breasts bounced and swayed under the force even while one of them was trapped in his sucking mouth. The breast he was not sucking jiggled freely, milk beading at the nipple and flying off in tiny droplets with the harder thrusts.

“Ugh… ugh… ugh…” Bhola grunted against her tit between deep sucks, never releasing the nipple for more than a second. He switched to the right breast without slowing his hips. The moment his mouth left the left nipple, a thick stream of milk continued to leak from it and run down toward her armpit. He attacked the right one with the same greedy hunger, sucking so hard the soft flesh pulled outward and then sprang back when he briefly released it with a wet *pop* only to latch on again.

Simran’s hands clutched at the sheets. Her mouth hung open. Loud, broken moans spilled out of her with every rapid thrust.

“Aaaahhh… Bhola… dheere… nahi… aaahhh… bahut tez… aaahhh… dudu… aaahhh… pet tak… aaahhh!”

He ignored the words. His hips kept hammering. The thick cock made filthy, continuous wet noises as it slammed in and out of her flooded cunt — *schlick-schlick-schlick-schlick* — the sound of her juices being forced out around his shaft with every stroke. Her pussy was so wet that white, creamy froth was beginning to gather at the base of his cock where their bodies met. The heavy balls swung and slapped against her with the rapid pace.

Bhola’s hands moved constantly. One stayed under her back, lifting her slightly so he could drive even deeper. The other squeezed and mauled whichever breast was not currently in his mouth, forcing more milk to leak. He would pull the soft globe upward toward his face, stuff as much as possible into his mouth, and suck like a calf that had been kept away from its mother too long. The wet sounds of his mouth and the wet sounds of her pussy mixed into one continuous filthy rhythm.

“Bhabhi… aapka doodh… itna meetha… aur yeh choot… itni geeli…”
“Bhabhi… your milk… so sweet… and this pussy… so wet…”, he growled against her breast between aggressive sucks.

“Main aise hi peeta rahunga… aur aise hi chodta rahunga. Aapki chuchiyan meri hain… aapki choot meri hai… sab mera.”
“I’ll keep drinking just like this… and keep fucking just like this. Your boobs are mine… your pussy is mine… everything is mine.”

He switched breasts again, leaving the right one shiny with saliva and leaking milk, and returned to the left. His hips never stopped the jackhammer pace. Every short, hard thrust made her entire body jolt upward on the bed. Her thick thighs trembled on either side of his hips. The anklet on her left leg caught the light every time her foot flexed. The waist chain dug into her soft belly with the force of his body coming down on her.

Simran was beyond coherent words. Her moans had become one long, continuous, broken sound that rose and fell with the speed of his cock. Tears of pure overload stood in her eyes. Her pussy clenched and fluttered helplessly around the thick, pistoning shaft. More juice kept pouring out of her, soaking his cock, his balls, and the sheets beneath them.

Bhola kept sucking and fucking without mercy — mouth locked on her milk-heavy breasts, hips driving his massive cock into her like a machine, the wet, filthy soundtrack of their bodies filling the entire bedroom. He showed no sign of slowing down.

Bhola’s cock was swelling inside her.

Simran felt it clearly — the already massive shaft growing even thicker, the dark head flaring against her cervix, the veins standing out harder against her stretched walls. The rapid jackhammer rhythm became slightly irregular, more forceful, more desperate. He was close.

His mouth left her breast and found her lips. He bit her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper, then moved down and bit the soft upper curve of her left breast, leaving a faint mark. His hands slid under her, grabbed the full, soft globes of her ass, and squeezed them roughly, fingers digging deep into the flesh as he used the grip to pull her down onto every upward thrust. He kept pistoning without mercy — short, brutal, wet strokes that made her entire body jolt.

Then came the hardest stroke of the night.

He drove upward with everything he had. The impact was so powerful it would have lifted her clean off the bed if his hands had not locked around her waist at the last second and held her firmly in place. The fat head punched deep. Simran’s mouth opened in a silent scream.

Bhola started cumming.

Thick, heavy ropes of cum erupted inside her. He kept thrusting through it — short, grinding, powerful pumps that forced every spurt as deep as possible. Wave after wave of hot, dense cum flooded her pussy. She could feel the volume of it, the way it filled her, the way it had nowhere else to go. Some of it was already being forced out around the thick base of his cock with every continued thrust, running down onto his balls and the sheets in thick white streams. He kept pumping, kept emptying himself, growling low against her skin as his cock pulsed and jerked inside her over and over.

At the same time he wrapped both arms around her back and pulled her tightly against him. His face pressed deep into her cleavage, between the soft, milk-slicked breasts, breathing hard, still giving small, involuntary thrusts as the last heavy spurts left him. Simran’s pussy was almost numb. She had cum so many times that the orgasms had blurred into one long, senseless overload. Her walls fluttered weakly around his still-throbbing cock, milking whatever was left.

They stayed locked together for a long time.

His cock remained buried to the hilt, still semi-hard and twitching occasionally as the final drops of cum leaked out of him and into her. Her heavy breasts cushioned his face. Milk and sweat and saliva mixed on their skin. The waist chain was pressed tightly between their stomachs. Neither of them spoke. Only their heavy breathing filled the quiet room.

Eventually Bhola moved.

Without pulling out, he sat up carefully, bringing her with him so she stayed impaled on his cock. Her legs were weak and open around his hips. He slid both hands under her ass, lifted her, and stood. She made a soft, exhausted sound as gravity made his thick shaft shift inside her. He carried her that way — still joined, her soft body against his, his cock deep inside her cum-filled pussy — out of the bedroom and into the attached bathroom.

He stepped into the shower area and turned the water on with one hand. Warm water began to fall over both of them. He stayed standing for a while, holding her in his lap, giving slow, shallow strokes that pushed some of the thick cum deeper and forced more of it out around his shaft. The water mixed with the overflowing white fluid and ran down their legs in cloudy streams.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

I think off late we cannot upload images or gifs. Doesnt seem to work

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Only after several long minutes did he finally lift her slightly and let his cock slide free.
 
It came out with a wet, filthy *pop*.
 
The moment the thick head left her stretched entrance, a heavy gush of cum followed — a thick, creamy mixture of his load and her own juices that poured out of her open pussy and splattered onto the shower floor. More kept leaking in slow, heavy pulses. Simran’s legs could not hold her. She slid down and sat heavily on the wet tiles, back against the wall, thighs open, the silver waist chain still around her soft midriff, the anklet glinting on her left ankle. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with her breathing. Cum continued to seep from her red, swollen pussy lips and run down toward the drain.
 
She had almost no energy left, but she still reached for him.
 
Bhola stood in front of her under the falling water, his thick, dark cock still heavy and shiny, coated in their mixed fluids, a thick rope of cum still hanging from the tip. Simran leaned forward weakly, took the messy shaft in one hand to steady it, and began licking. Her tongue dragged slowly along the underside, collecting the thick white residue, cleaning him with long, exhausted, filthy strokes. She was too tired to sit up properly; her shoulders slumped, her eyes half-closed, but she kept licking, tasting the heavy mixture of his cum and her own juices while warm water cascaded over both of them.
 
Bhola looked down at her in silence, one hand resting lightly on her wet hair, watching the lady of the house sit on the bathroom floor and clean his cock with her tongue after he had filled her completely.
 
Bhola’s arms slid under Simran’s soft, exhausted body. He lifted her just enough to shift his own position, then lowered himself carefully onto the wet bathroom floor, sitting with his back against the tiled wall. Warm water from the shower continued to cascade over both of them. He guided her forward so she straddled his lap, facing him. Her thick thighs spread wide around his hips. His heavy, still-hard cock rested thick and hot between their bodies, trapped against her soft lower belly and the sticky mess of cum still leaking from her used pussy. The silver waist chain pressed between them. The anklet on her left ankle glinted under the bathroom light every time her foot shifted.
 
He looked at her tired face.
 
“Bhabhi… meri kandhe pe sar rakh ke aaram karna hai?”
“Bhabhi… do you want to rest your head on my shoulder?”
 
Simran didn’t answer with words. She simply leaned forward and rested her head on his broad shoulder. Her face turned into the side of his neck. A long, shaky breath left her body. Bhola’s arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her flush against him. Her gigantic, milk-heavy breasts flattened against his solid chest. The soft, warm flesh spilled outward under the pressure; her stiff nipples dragged slowly across his skin with every small breath she took. Residual milk smeared between them. His large hands began moving — one rubbing slow, firm circles over the wet curve of her back, the other sliding lower to cup and squeeze the full, soft globe of her ass. He kneaded the flesh gently but possessively, fingers sinking into the plush cheek, lifting it, releasing it, feeling its weight and heat.
 
His cock throbbed hard between their bodies, fully erect again, the thick shaft trapped against her soft, cum-smeared stomach. Every small shift of her hips made the veiny length slide against her skin. He could have lifted her and pushed back inside her with almost no effort. The entrance of her pussy was still open, still leaking his thick load in slow pulses. But he held himself back. She was drained. Her body was heavy and limp against him. Her pussy had been stretched and fucked for so long that it needed time. He wanted her to regain some strength before he took her again.
 
Minutes passed under the falling water.
 
He kept rubbing her — long strokes down her spine, slow squeezes of her heavy ass, occasional upward presses that made her breasts drag and smear more milk across his chest. Simran stayed quiet, breathing slowly against his neck, her body completely surrendered to the support of his arms. The only sounds were the water hitting the tiles and the soft, wet shift of their skin.
 
Eventually Bhola moved.
 
He tightened his hold under her ass and stood up in one powerful motion, still carrying her on his lap. Her legs hung loosely around him. His hard cock remained trapped between their stomachs, sliding slightly against her soft skin with the movement. He reached out with one hand and turned the shower off. Water stopped. For a moment they stayed there, dripping, breathing, her naked body completely supported by his.
 
He carefully set her on her feet.
 
Simran swayed. Her legs were unsteady. Bhola kept one strong arm around her waist to hold her upright while he reached for a large towel. He began drying her with slow, thorough attention.
 
First her hair — he gathered the wet, heavy strands and rubbed them gently, watching water run down her back and over the curve of her ass. Then her face, dabbing carefully around her eyes and swollen lips. His hands moved to her neck and shoulders, dragging the towel over the soft skin. When he reached her breasts he slowed even more. He lifted each heavy, milk-filled globe in turn, drying underneath where the skin was warm and damp, then across the soft upper curves, then carefully over the stiff, sensitive nipples. A little residual milk appeared as he dried her; he wiped it away without comment. The towel moved lower, over her soft stomach and the silver waist chain that still sat against her skin. He dried around it, then lower still.
 
When he reached her pussy he was deliberate. He pressed the towel gently between her thick thighs, absorbing the thick mixture of his cum and her juices that continued to seep from her red, swollen lips. He parted her slightly with two fingers so he could dry her more thoroughly, wiping along the puffy outer folds and the sensitive inner skin. The towel came away stained. He moved behind her and dried the full, heavy cheeks of her ass, lifting each one to reach the warm cleft, then down the backs of her thighs and over her calves. Finally he dried her feet and the anklet on her left ankle.
 
By the time he finished she was only damp, her skin warm and soft under his hands.
 
Bhola dropped the towel, slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back, and lifted her completely off the floor. He carried her out of the bathroom the way a groom carries his bride across a threshold — her naked body held high against his chest, her heavy breasts pressed to him, one arm dangling loosely, the waist chain and anklet the only things she wore. Her head rested against his shoulder again.
 
He walked through the quiet house and into the bedroom. The sheets were still messy from earlier. He laid her down carefully in the centre of the bed. Simran immediately turned onto her side, facing away from him, one arm curled under her head. Her thick thighs rested together. The full curve of her ass, still faintly marked from his hands, faced him. Her heavy breasts settled against the mattress. The silver waist chain followed the soft indentation of her waist. A thin, slow trickle of his cum still leaked from between her closed thighs onto the sheet.
 
Bhola stood there for a long moment, completely naked, his thick cock still hard and glistening, and simply looked at her.
 
His Bhabhi.
 
Sleeping naked on the bed he had just fucked her on for so long. Completely used. Completely open to him. The waist chain he had put on her still in place. The anklet still on her leg. Her body marked by his mouth, his hands, and the thick load he had left deep inside her.
 
He watched her breathing even out as sleep took her completely.
 
Only then did he turn and go downstairs, leaving her there — naked, marked, and full of him.
 
Bhola came down the stairs completely naked.
 
His thick cock was still hard, heavy and dark, swaying with every step. The skin was still slightly shiny from the shower and from Simran’s earlier attention. He could feel the cool air of the living room against it. The house was quiet. Upstairs, his Bhabhi was sleeping on her side, naked except for the waist chain and anklet he had put on her, her body still marked and full of him.
 
He needed the erection to go down.
 
Bhola moved to the open space near the dining table and began doing slow squats and push-ups, trying to force the blood to redistribute. Twenty minutes passed. Sweat beaded on his chest and shoulders. His breathing grew heavier. Yet every time he thought of the way Simran’s pussy had stretched around him, or the way her heavy breasts had leaked milk into his mouth, his cock twitched and stayed stubbornly hard. The thick shaft refused to soften completely.
 
His phone rang.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

The sudden sound made him straighten up. The screen showed his younger brother’s name. Bhola answered, still standing naked in the middle of the living room.
 
“Haan, bol.”
“Yes, tell me.”
 
His brother’s voice was broken, thick with tears.
 
“Bhai… tu kahan hai?”
“Brother… where are you?”
 
“Flat mein hoon. Ghar pe.”
“I’m in the flat. At home.”
 
“Bahar aa. Main bahar khada hoon. Please.”
“Come outside. I’m standing outside. Please.”
 
There was a raw, desperate edge to the words. Bhola’s stomach tightened.
 
“Andar aa ja. Baat karte hain.”
“Come inside. We’ll talk.”
 
“Nahi. Bahar hi. Please, bhai. Abhi.”
“No. Outside only. Please, brother. Right now.”
 
Bhola looked toward the staircase. Simran was upstairs, freshly fucked, freshly bathed, sleeping naked in the master bedroom. The thought of his brother walking into the house while she was in that state made him deeply uneasy. He didn’t want anyone else in the flat right now.
 
“Theek hai. Do minute.”
“Okay. Two minutes.”
 
He ended the call and moved quickly. He pulled on a pair of loose cotton pants and a T-shirt, then forced his still-thick cock down into his underwear, tucking it as best he could against his thigh. The pressure was uncomfortable. He slipped on chappals and went to the main door.
 
Outside, under the dim light of the lane, his brother stood with his shoulders hunched. His eyes were red and swollen. The moment he saw Bhola he took a step back, refusing to come closer to the house.
 
“Andar nahi aayega,” he said, voice shaking. “Yahan nahi. Door chal.”
“I won’t come inside,” he said, voice shaking. “Not here. Let’s go far.”
 
Bhola felt a fresh wave of discomfort. Upstairs his Bhabhi was lying naked and used. The smell of sex and milk and cum still lingered faintly in the bedroom. He did not want his brother anywhere near that.
 
“Theek hai. Chal.”
“Okay. Come.”
 
They walked in silence for a short distance until they reached a streetlight near the end of the lane. Both of them sat down on the low boundary wall of a small park. The yellow light fell across their faces. Bhola’s brother immediately buried his face in his hands and began to cry — deep, quiet sobs that shook his shoulders.
 
Bhola’s mind went straight to the worst possibility.
 
Their father had been unwell for some time. The thought that something serious had happened made his chest tighten.
 
“Baba… theek hain na?” he asked carefully. “Kuch hua kya?”
“Father… is he okay?” he asked carefully. “Did something happen?”
 
His brother’s head snapped up. The grief on his face twisted into sudden, raw anger.
 
“Us haramzade ke baare mein mat pooch!” he spat. “Uske wajah se hi yeh sab ho raha hai. Uske wajah se main is waqt yahan aaya hoon. Uske baare mein ek lafz mat nikaal!”
“Don’t ask about that bastard!” he spat. “All this is happening because of him. That’s why I’ve come here at this time. Don’t utter a single word about him!”
 
Bhola was taken aback by the venom in his brother’s voice. He had never heard him speak about their father like that.
 
“Phir kya hua?” he asked quietly. “Bol. Kya baat hai?”
“Then what happened?” he asked quietly. “Speak. What’s the matter?”
 
His brother wiped his face with the back of his hand and let out a long, shaky breath.
 
“Lambi kahani hai, bhai.”
“It’s a long story, brother.”
 
A small tea stall was still open a short distance away, the dim bulb glowing under a stained tarp. Bhola stood up.
 
“Ek minute. Pehle chai pi le. Phir dheere-dheere bata.”
“One minute. First have some tea. Then tell me slowly.”
 
He walked to the stall, ordered two cups of strong tea and a small plate of biscuits, paid, and came back. He placed one cup in his brother’s hands and kept the other for himself. The biscuits sat between them on the wall.
 
Bhola sat down again, the discomfort of his still-semi-hard cock pressed against the fabric of his underwear a distant, private reminder of what he had left upstairs.
 
He looked at his brother, who was staring into the steaming tea, eyes still wet.
 
“Ab bol, bhai,” Bhola said quietly. “Kya hua?”
“Now speak, brother,” Bhola said quietly. “What happened?”
 
Bhola sat on the low boundary wall, the paper cup of tea warm between his palms. The biscuits remained untouched between them. The yellow streetlight cast long shadows across the empty lane. His brother’s eyes were still red, his shoulders tense.
 
“Ab bol, Jai,” Bhola said quietly. “Itni raat ko yahan aane ki kya baat hai? Kya problem hai?”
“Now speak, Jai,” Bhola said quietly. “What’s the matter that you came here so late at night? What’s the problem?”
 
Jai stared into his own cup for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and bitter.
 
“Teri Komal Bhabhi ke baare mein hai.”
“It’s about your Komal Bhabhi.”
 
Bhola’s brow furrowed. He blinked, not understanding.
 
“Komal Bhabhi? Meri…? Who toh—”
“Komal Bhabhi? Mine…? She—”
 
“Haan,” Jai cut him off. “Aur sirf who nahi. Kai aur auratein. Bahut si. Jinhe us haramzade baap ne jala kiya.”
“Yes,” Jai cut him off. “And not just her. Many other women. A lot of them. Whom that bastard father has burned.”
 
Bhola felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. He had never heard his younger brother speak with such pure hatred about their father. The word “haramzada” hung in the air between them.
 
“Main nahi samajh raha,” Bhola said slowly. “Kya matlab hai tera? Baap ne kya kiya?”
“I don’t understand,” Bhola said slowly. “What do you mean? What did Father do?”
 
Jai let out a long, shaky breath. He set the tea down beside him and wiped his face with both hands.
 
“Yeh sab tere paida hone se pehle ki baat hai. Bahut pehle ki. Jab main chhota tha aur tu soch mein bhi nahi tha.”
“All this is from before you were born. A long time ago. When I was small and you weren’t even a thought.”
 
He paused, collecting the story that clearly still burned inside him.

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Hamari maa ne ek jaadi-booti ka mixture banaya tha. Gaon ki un auraton ke liye jo maa nahi ban sakti thi. Jis ka naam tha **Jeevdhatu**. Bahut taakatwar cheez thi who. Itni taakatwar ki jo aurat bhi usse sevan karti thi, ek-do mahine ke andar pet se ho jaati thi. Gaon bhar ki auratein hamare ghar aane lagi thi. Maa unhe dawai deti thi, aur kuch hafte baad khush khabar leke aati thi.”
“Our mother had made a herbal mixture. For those women in the village who couldn’t become mothers. Its name was Jeevdhatu. It was a very powerful thing. So powerful that any woman who took it would get pregnant within one or two months. Women from the whole village started coming to our house. Mother would give them the medicine, and a few weeks later they would come back with happy news.”
 
Bhola listened in silence. He had heard vague stories about their mother’s knowledge of herbs, but never like this.
 
Jai continued, his voice growing darker.
 
“Who mixture sirf auraton ko hi nahi, mardon ko bhi asar karta tha. Jo mard usse leta tha, uski taakat, uski virility… sab badh jaati thi. Lund sakht rehta tha, jhadne ke baad bhi jaldi khada ho jaata tha, aur cum ki matra… bahut zyada. Maa ne yeh sab soch-samajh ke banaya tha, sirf madad ke liye. Baap bhi usme madad karta tha. Mixture banana, sukhana, peesna… sab seekh liya tha usne.”
“That mixture didn’t affect only women, it affected men too. Any man who took it, his strength, his virility… everything increased. The cock stayed hard, even after cumming it would get erect again quickly, and the amount of cum… was very high. Mother had made all this thoughtfully, only to help. Father also used to help in it. Making the mixture, drying it, grinding it… he had learned everything.”
 
A bitter smile twisted Jai’s mouth.
 
“Phir lalach aa gaya usme. Jab dekhne laga ki kitni-kitni auratein ghar aati hain, kitni asani se unka pet nahi tikta… toh usne khud Jeevdhatu lena shuru kar diya. Roz. Hafte mein kai baar. Uske shareer ne jawab diya. Us ka lund… jaise koi alag cheez ban gaya. Itna sakht, itna bhari, itna cum nikalta tha ki aurat ke andar bhar jaata tha. Aur sabse badi baat…”
“Then greed came into him. When he saw how many women came to the house, how easily their wombs didn’t hold… he started taking Jeevdhatu himself. Every day. Several times a week. His body responded. His cock… became like a different thing. So hard, so heavy, so much cum came out that it would fill the woman completely. And the biggest thing…”
 
Jai’s voice dropped even lower, almost venomous.
 
“Uske maal ka asar alag tha. Jeevdhatu uske khoon mein, uske veerya mein bas chuka tha. Jab bhi us ka maal kisi aurat ke andar jaata tha — choot mein, muh mein, kahin bhi — who aurat dheere-dheere uski sexual slave ban jaati thi. Dimag se. Us ka lund, us ka maal, us ki chudai… yeh sab us aurat ke dimag mein ghar kar jaata tha. Who uske bina nahi reh paati thi. Uske lund ki aadi ho jaati thi. Uske liye tarasti thi. Uske liye kuch bhi karti thi. Aur us haramzade ko yeh baat pata chal gayi thi. Isliye who un auraton ko asani se patane laga. Pehle dawai deta, phir dheere-dheere unke shareer tak pahunch jaata. Aur ek baar uska cum andar chala jaata… phir who aurat uski ho jaati thi. Dimag se, choot se, sab tarah se.”
“The effect of his cum was different. Jeevdhatu had settled into his blood, into his semen. Whenever his cum went inside a woman — in the pussy, in the mouth, anywhere — that woman slowly became his sexual slave. From the mind. His cock, his cum, his fucking… all of it would settle into that woman’s mind. She couldn’t live without him. She would become addicted to his cock. She would yearn for him. She would do anything for him. And that bastard came to know this. That’s why he started seducing those women easily. First he would give the medicine, then slowly reach their bodies. And once his cum went inside… that woman would become his. From the mind, from the pussy, in every way.”
 
Bhola sat frozen, the tea cooling in his hands. The thick, filthy implications of what his brother was saying settled over him like a heavy blanket. Their father’s cum had not only been potent for pregnancy — it had been a kind of poison that rewired a woman’s mind, turning her into a willing, desperate slave to his cock.
 
Jai stared at the ground under the streetlight, his jaw tight.
 
“Yeh sab tere paida hone se pehle shuru ho gaya tha. Aur bahut si auratein… bahut si… uske jaal mein fas chuki thin.”
“All this had started before you were born. And many women… many of them… had gotten trapped in his web.”
 
He looked up at Bhola, eyes still wet but burning with anger.
 
“Aur ab… ab uski wajah se yeh sab phir se uth khada hua hai. Teri Komal Bhabhi bhi usi mein fasii hui hai.”
“And now… because of him all this has risen again. Your Komal Bhabhi is also trapped in it.”
 
Jai stared at the ground for a long time before he continued. The tea in his cup had gone cold. His voice was quieter now, but the bitterness in it had only deepened.
 
“Jab main paida hua, tab tak maa ko us haramzade ke kaarno ka pata chal chuka tha. Usne dekh liya tha ki gaon ki auratein sirf dawai ke liye nahi aa rahi thin. Who uske lund ke liye aa rahi thin. Uske cum ke liye. Jo aurat ek baar uska veerya andar le leti thi, who phir uske bina nahi reh paati thi. Raat-raat bhar uske sapne aate the. Uske mote, sakht lund ke. Uske cum ki garmi ke. Who auratein ghar-ghar mein apne patiyon ke saath soiti thin, lekin unka dimag aur unki choot dono us haramzade ke paas chale jaate the.”
“By the time I was born, mother had already come to know about that bastard’s deeds. She had seen that the village women weren’t coming only for the medicine. They were coming for his cock. For his cum. Any woman who once took his semen inside couldn’t live without him after that. His dreams would come all night. Of his thick, hard cock. Of the heat of his cum. Those women would sleep with their husbands in their homes, but both their minds and their pussies would go to that bastard.”
 
Jai’s hands clenched into fists on his knees.
 
“Maa ne rokne ki koshish ki. Bahut koshish ki. Usne un auraton se baat ki, unhe samjhaya, ghar se bhagane ki koshish ki. Lekin jab bhi who aadmi samne aa jaata tha, unka control khatam ho jaata tha. Unki taangein khud-bakhud khul jaati thin. Unka muh khud uske lund ki taraf jaata tha. Ek baar uska cum kisi ke andar chala jaaye… phir who aurat uski ho jaati thi. Dimag se, choot se, muh se, sab tarah se. Maa yeh dekh kar toot gayi thi.”
“Mother tried to stop it. She tried a lot. She talked to those women, explained to them, tried to drive them away from the house. But whenever that man came in front of them, their control would end. Their legs would open on their own. Their mouths would go toward his cock on their own. Once his cum went inside someone… that woman would become his. From the mind, from the pussy, from the mouth, in every way. Seeing this, mother broke.”
 
 
He looked up at Bhola, eyes wet again.
 
“Phir tu paida hua. Maa ne decide kiya ki agar yeh jahar kisi tarah todo toh todo. Usne tujhe ek khaas booti ka ras chuwaya jab tu bilkul chhota tha. Main nahi jaanta who kya thi. Usne mujhe kabhi detail mein nahi bataya. Sirf itna kaha tha ki yeh us ‘shraap’ ko todne ke liye hai. Main maafi chahta hoon yeh kehne ke liye, Bhola… lekin ab sirf tu hi meri madad kar sakta hai.”
“Then you were born. Mother decided that if this poison could be broken somehow, it should be broken. She fed you the juice of a special herb when you were very small. I don’t know what it was. She never told me in detail. She only said that it was to break that ‘curse’. I’m sorry for saying this, Bhola… but now only you can help me.”
 
Bhola’s throat felt dry.
 
“Kya? Kaise? Usne mujhe kya chuwaya tha? Main kya kar sakta hoon?”
“What? How? What did she feed me? What can I do?”
 
Jai let out a short, humourless breath.
 
“Mujhe nahi pata us booti ka naam. Lekin ek cheez clear hai. Hamare khandaan mein tera lund sabse bada aur sabse mota hai. Who maayne rakhta hai. Maa ne kaha tha ki jo asar us booti ka tujh par hua hai, who tere shareer mein, tere lund mein bas gaya hai.”
“I don’t know the name of that herb. But one thing is clear. In our family your cock is the biggest and thickest. That means something. Mother said that the effect that herb had on you has settled into your body, into your cock.”
 
Bhola stared at him.
 
“Ye tujhe kaise pata ki mera… utna bada hai?”
“How do you know that mine… is that big?”

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

“Maa ne mujhe bataya tha,” Jai said simply. “Marne se pehle. Jab who bimaar padi thi. Usne kaha tha ki tera lund is khandaan ka sabse taakatwar hai, aur isliye tu hi us jahar ka jawab ho sakta hai. Maine tujhe itne saalon tak nahi bataya kyunki zaroorat nahi thi. Main nahi chahta tha ki tu yeh bhoj uthaye. Lekin ab…”
“Mother told me,” Jai said simply. “Before she died. When she fell ill. She said your cock is the most powerful in this family, and that’s why only you can be the answer to that poison. I didn’t tell you all these years because there was no need. I didn’t want you to carry this burden. But now…”
 
His voice cracked.
 
“Jab meri shaadi hui, Komal aayi. Pehle kuch mahine theek the. Phir ek din main raat ko uth kar dekhta hoon ki who bistar mein nahi hai. Kitchen mein dhoondha, aangan mein dhoondha… phir baap ke kamre ke paas gaya. Darwaza thoda khula tha. Usne Komal ko godi mein bitha rakha tha. Us ka mota, kaala lund Komal ki choot mein pura ghusa hua tha. Komal ki taangein uske kamar mein kasii hui thin. Who uske kandhe mein muh daal ke moan kar rahi thi… jaise uske alawa kuch bhi duniya mein nahi tha. Us haramzade ne meri biwi ko usi raat se apni bana liya. Aur tab se… har raat. Har fucking raat.”
“When I got married, Komal came. The first few months were fine. Then one night I woke up and saw she wasn’t in bed. I searched the kitchen, the courtyard… then I went near Father’s room. The door was slightly open. He had Komal sitting in his lap. His thick, black cock was fully inside Komal’s pussy. Komal’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. She had her mouth on his shoulder and was moaning… as if nothing else existed in the world. That bastard made my wife his from that very night. And since then… every night. Every fucking night.”
 
Bhola’s eyes widened in pure shock.
 
“Kya…? Tu serious hai? Usne Komal Bhabhi ko—”
“What…? Are you serious? He did that to Komal Bhabhi—”
 
“Haan,” Jai spat. “Har raat. Kabhi uske kamre mein, kabhi khet ke peeche, kabhi jab main gaon se bahar hota hoon. Us ka cum uske andar jaata hai, aur Komal uske liye paagal ho jaati hai. Main usse baat karta hoon, chillata hoon, rota hoon… lekin jab us aadmi ka naam aata hai, ya uski khushboo aati hai, toh Komal ka control khatam. Us ki choot geeli ho jaati hai. Us ke muh se sirf yeh aata hai ki use uska lund chahiye. Use uska cum chahiye. Main dekh chuka hoon kai baar. Who uske saamne ghutno ke bal baith jaati hai. Us ka lund muh mein le leti hai jaise koi bhooki kuttiya. Aur jab who uske andar jhadta hai, toh Komal ke chehre pe aisi khushi hoti hai jaise usne sab kuch paa liya.”
“Yes,” Jai spat. “Every night. Sometimes in his room, sometimes behind the fields, sometimes when I’m out of the village. His cum goes inside her, and Komal goes crazy for him. I talk to her, I shout, I cry… but when that man’s name comes, or his smell comes, Komal’s control ends. Her pussy gets wet. From her mouth only this comes — she wants his cock. She wants his cum. I’ve seen it many times. She sits on her knees in front of him. She takes his cock in her mouth like a hungry bitch. And when he cums inside her, such happiness comes on Komal’s face as if she has gotten everything.”
 
Bhola opened his mouth.
 
“Tune Komal Bhabhi se baat nahi ki? Samjhana ki—”
“Didn’t you talk to Komal Bhabhi? Try to explain—”
 
Jai’s head snapped up. His eyes were furious.
 
“Kya tu sun nahi raha hai jo main keh raha hoon?! Us ke cum mein kuch aisa hai jo auraton ko paagal kar deta hai! Komal control nahi kar paati! Main kai baar dekh chuka hoon! Who meri biwi hai, lekin us haramzade ka cum uske andar jaate hi who uski ho jaati hai! Maa ne mujhe bataya tha kaise us aadmi ko control kiya jaa sakta hai… poora rok nahi sakte, lekin control kar sakte hain. Aur sirf Komal nahi…”
“Are you not listening to what I’m saying?! There’s something in his cum that drives women crazy! Komal can’t control herself! I’ve seen it many times! She’s my wife, but the moment that bastard’s cum goes inside her she becomes his! Mother told me how that man can be controlled… you can’t stop it completely, but you can control it. And it’s not just Komal…”
 
Jai leaned forward, his voice dropping into something almost dangerous.
 
“Tujhe hairani hogi. Teri malkin ki maa bhi us ke control mein hai. Teri Simran Bhabhi ki maa. Who bhi us haramzade ke lund ki gulaam hai.”
“You’ll be surprised. Your mistress’s mother is also under his control. Your Simran Bhabhi’s mother. She too is a slave to that bastard’s cock.”
 
Bhola felt the words hit him like a physical blow.
 
“Kya…? Kya bol raha hai tu?”
“What…? What are you saying?”
 
Jai nodded slowly, eyes locked on his brother’s.
 
“Haan. Teri malkin ki maa bhi. Bahut pehle se.”
“Yes. Your mistress’s mother too. From a long time ago.”
 
Jai’s voice had gone flat, almost hollow, as if the words themselves were heavy.
 
“Unki maa yahan aayi thi. Kafi young hai abhi bhi. Bahut sundar. Teri Simran Bhabhi ki maa. Us raat main ghar pe nahi tha. Gaon ke dusre side kisi kaam se gaya hua tha. Jab wapas aaya… toh jo scene tha…”
“Her mother had come here. She’s still quite young. Very beautiful. Your Simran Bhabhi’s mother. That night I wasn’t at home. I had gone to the other side of the village for some work. When I came back… the scene that was there…”
 
He stopped, swallowed, then forced himself to continue.
 
“Us haramzade ne dono ko ek saath pakad rakha tha. Komal aur teri Simran Bhabhi ki maa. Dono nangi. Dono uske mote, kaale lund ke neeche. Main darwaze se dekha. Usne Komal ko godi mein bitha rakha tha, uska lund Komal ki choot mein pura ghusa hua tha, aur teri Bhabhi ki maa uske muh ke saamne ghutno ke bal baithi thi. Us ka muh uske balls pe lag raha tha, uske cum aur Komal ke ras ko chaat rahi thi. Us haramzade ke haath dono ki gaand pe the. Who dono ko ek saath chod raha tha — ek choot mein, ek muh mein. Itna paagal ho gaya tha ki shayad usko heart attack aa gaya. Main nahi jaanta exactly kya hua. Lekin subah hospital se phone aaya. Tab se… kabhi Komal, kabhi teri Simran Bhabhi ki maa… raat mein uske saath hospital mein rehti hain. Uske lund ke liye. Uske cum ke liye. Dono uske baghair nahi reh paati.”
“That bastard had both of them together. Komal and your Simran Bhabhi’s mother. Both naked. Both under his thick, black cock. I saw from the door. He had Komal sitting in his lap, his cock fully inside Komal’s pussy, and your Bhabhi’s mother was kneeling in front of his face. Her mouth was on his balls, licking his cum and Komal’s juices. That bastard’s hands were on both their asses. He was fucking both of them together — one in the pussy, one in the mouth. He got so mad that maybe he had a heart attack. I don’t know exactly what happened. But in the morning a call came from the hospital. Since then… sometimes Komal, sometimes your Simran Bhabhi’s mother… stay with him in the hospital at night. For his cock. For his cum. Neither of them can live without him.”
 
Bhola sat frozen. The image Jai had just painted was so filthy and so wrong that his mind refused to process it at first.
 
His own Bhabhi’s mother — the elegant, older woman he had only seen in photographs — on her knees, sharing the same thick, cursed cock as his brother’s wife.
 
“Isliye…” Bhola’s voice came out rough. “Isliye tu mujhe ghar aane se mana karta tha?”
“That’s why…” Bhola’s voice came out rough. “That’s why you used to stop me from coming home?”
 
“Haan,” Jai said simply. “Main nahi chahta tha ki tu yeh sab dekhe. Ya isme fas jaaye.”
“Yes,” Jai said simply. “I didn’t want you to see all this. Or get trapped in it.”
 
Bhola shook his head slowly.
 
“Ye sab… Bhai… mujhe kuch samajh nahi aa raha. Yeh sab itna… ganda hai. Itna galat.”
“All this… Brother… I don’t understand anything. All this is so… dirty. So wrong.”
 
Jai looked at him with raw, broken eyes.
 
“Bhai… meri zindagi khatam ho gayi hai. Meri biwi har raat us haramzade ke lund pe uchal rahi hai. Main dekh nahi sakta. Main so nahi sakta. Main jee nahi sakta. Ab sirf tu hi bacha sakta hai.”
“Brother… my life is over. My wife is bouncing on that bastard’s cock every night. I can’t watch. I can’t sleep. I can’t live. Now only you can save me.”
 
Bhola’s chest felt tight.
 
“Kya? Main kaise madad kar sakta hoon? Main kya karun?”
“What? How can I help? What should I do?”

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Jai leaned forward. The streetlight caught the wetness in his eyes.
 
“Tu Jeevdhatu le chuka hai. Aur maa ne tujhe who khaas booti bhi di thi jab tu paida hua tha. Who booti tere khoon mein, tere veerya mein bas chuki hai. Isliye tera lund itna bada aur mota hai. Isliye tera maal alag hai. Maa ne kaha tha — is duniya mein sirf tu hi us haramzade ke control ko tod sakta hai. Sirf tera maal.”
“You have already taken Jeevdhatu. And mother also gave you that special herb when you were born. That herb has settled into your blood, into your semen. That’s why your cock is so big and thick. That’s why your cum is different. Mother said — in this world only you can break that bastard’s control. Only your cum.”
 
Bhola said nothing. The words sat between them like a live wire.
 
Jai’s voice dropped lower, almost desperate.
 
“Tujhe meri madad karni hogi, Bhola. Please.”
“You have to help me, Bhola. Please.”
 
“Kaise?” Bhola finally asked. His throat was dry.
 
“Sirf tere maal se unka dimag saaf ho sakta hai. Us haramzade ke jahar ko nikaalne ka ek hi tarika hai. Tera veerya. Jab tu jhadta hai… uske pehle paanch minute ke andar us aurat ko tera maal andar lena padta hai. Choot mein. Muh mein. Kahin bhi, lekin andar. Tabhi who asar toot-ta hai. Tabhi uska dimag us haramzade ke lund se azaad hota hai.”
“Only your cum can clear their mind. There is only one way to remove that bastard’s poison. Your semen. When you cum… within the first five minutes that woman has to take your cum inside. In the pussy. In the mouth. Anywhere, but inside. Only then that effect breaks. Only then her mind becomes free from that bastard’s cock.”
 
Bhola’s eyes widened.
 
“Kya…?”
 
“Haan,” Jai said, voice firm now despite the pain. “Tujhe Komal ko apna cum dena hoga. Uske andar. Pehle paanch minute mein. Tabhi who us haramzade ke control se nikal sakti hai. Tabhi meri biwi wapas aa sakti hai.”
“Yes,” Jai said, voice firm now despite the pain. “You have to give Komal your cum. Inside her. Within the first five minutes. Only then she can come out of that bastard’s control. Only then my wife can come back.”
 
The night air suddenly felt heavier. Bhola sat under the yellow streetlight, the cold tea forgotten in his hand, his mind reeling. Upstairs in the flat, Simran was still sleeping naked, her body full of his cum from just hours ago. And now his own brother was telling him that the only way to save Komal — and perhaps even Simran’s mother — was to put that same cum inside them while it was still fresh and potent.
 
Jai looked at him, waiting.
 
“Bhai… please. Meri biwi ko bacha. Sirf tu kar sakta hai.”
“Brother… please. Save my wife. Only you can do it.”
 
Bhola stared at his younger brother as if the words had physically struck him.
 
“Ye… kaise ho sakta hai?” His voice came out rough, almost disbelieving. “Tu kya keh raha hai, Jai? Main… main Komal Bhabhi ko…?”
“How… how is this possible?” His voice came out rough, almost disbelieving. “What are you saying, Jai? I… I should do that to Komal Bhabhi…?”
 
Jai didn’t look away. The yellow streetlight carved deep shadows under his eyes. His hands were clenched so tightly the knuckles had gone white.
 
“Haan. Yahi ek rasta hai. Main jaanta hoon main kya maang raha hoon. Main jaanta hoon yeh kitna ganda, kitna galat lagta hai. Lekin us haramzade ke cum ka asar itna gehra hai ki normal tareeke se nahi toot-ta. Maa ne kaha tha — sirf tere jaisa lund, sirf tera veerya. Who booti jo usne tujhe di thi, who tere cum ko alag banati hai. Uske pehle paanch minute ke andar agar koi aurat tera cum andar le le — choot mein, muh mein, kahin bhi — toh us haramzade ka control toot jaata hai. Dimag saaf ho jaata hai. Uske lund ki gulaami khatam.”
“Yes. This is the only way. I know what I’m asking. I know how dirty, how wrong it feels. But the effect of that bastard’s cum is so deep that it doesn’t break by normal means. Mother said — only a cock like yours, only your semen. That herb she gave you makes your cum different. If within the first five minutes a woman takes your cum inside — in the pussy, in the mouth, anywhere — then that bastard’s control breaks. The mind clears. The slavery to his cock ends.”
 
Bhola’s mind was spinning. Upstairs, Simran was still sleeping naked in the bedroom, her pussy still stretched and leaking the thick load he had pumped into her only a short while ago. The same cock that had just claimed his malkin was now being asked to claim his own brother’s wife.
 
“Chahe main maan bhi jaaun…” Bhola said slowly, his throat dry. “Komal Bhabhi… who kabhi nahi maanegi. Who mujhe… aise kaise allow karegi?”
“Even if I agree…” Bhola said slowly, his throat dry. “Komal Bhabhi… she will never agree. How will she… allow me like that?”
 
Jai let out a short, bitter breath that was almost a laugh.
 
“Maine usse pehle hi bata diya hai. Poori baat. Us haramzade ke cum ka asar, maa ki booti, tera lund, pehle paanch minute… sab. Komal royi. Bahut royi. Lekin usne haan bol diya. Who tere saath karegi. Tujhe uske andar jhadna hoga. Tera cum uski choot mein jaana chahiye jab who abhi garam ho, abhi taaza ho. Tabhi uska dimag us haramzade se azaad hoga.”
“I’ve already told her. The whole thing. The effect of that bastard’s cum, mother’s herb, your cock, the first five minutes… everything. Komal cried. She cried a lot. But she said yes. She will do it with you. You have to cum inside her. Your cum has to go into her pussy while it’s still hot, still fresh. Only then her mind will be free from that bastard.”
 
Bhola felt heat rise in his face. The words were too direct, too filthy, too real.
 
“Bhai…” His voice dropped. “Tu mujhse keh raha hai ki main apni Bhabhi ke saath soun. Main Komal Bhabhi ko… chodun.”
“Brother…” His voice dropped. “You’re telling me to sleep with my Bhabhi. To… fuck Komal Bhabhi.”
 
Jai’s eyes were wet again, but his voice stayed firm, almost hard.
 
“Haan. Main tujhe yeh keh raha hoon. Main tujhe bol raha hoon ki tu meri biwi ko chod. Uske mote, geele choot mein apna bada, kaala lund daal. Usse chod. Zor se. Dheere. Jaise tu chahe. Lekin jab tu jhadne wala ho, toh uske andar hi jhad. Uske pet tak. Uske womb tak. Aur pehle paanch minute ke andar uska cum uske shareer mein rehna chahiye. Muh mein, choot mein, dono mein — jo bhi ho sake. Tabhi who us haramzade ke control se nikalegi. Tabhi meri Komal wapas aayegi.”
“Yes. I’m telling you this. I’m telling you to fuck my wife. Put your big, black cock in her thick, wet pussy. Fuck her. Hard. Slow. However you want. But when you’re about to cum, cum inside her. Up to her stomach. Up to her womb. And within the first five minutes your cum has to stay in her body. In the mouth, in the pussy, both — whatever is possible. Only then she will come out of that bastard’s control. Only then my Komal will come back.”
 
He leaned closer, the desperation raw in every word.
 
“Main dekh chuka hoon us haramzade ko meri biwi ke upar. Uske mote lund ko Komal ki choot mein jaate hue. Uske cum ko uske andar bharte hue. Komal uske neeche moan karti thi jaise uske alawa kuch bhi nahi tha duniya mein. Main usse nahi chheen sakta normal tareeke se. Lekin tera cum… tera veerya… who us jahar ko nikaal sakta hai. Isliye main tujhe bol raha hoon — meri biwi ko chod. Uske andar apna cum daal. Usse bacha.”
“I’ve already seen that bastard on my wife. His thick cock going into Komal’s pussy. Filling his cum inside her. Komal would moan under him as if nothing else existed in the world. I can’t snatch her back by normal means. But your cum… your semen… can remove that poison. That’s why I’m telling you — fuck my wife. Put your cum inside her. Save her.”
 
The night air felt thick. Bhola’s own cock, still sensitive and half-hard from the long session with Simran, gave a traitorous twitch inside his underwear at the filthy image his brother was forcing into his mind — Komal on her back or on her knees, her married pussy stretched around his thick shaft, taking the same heavy load he had just given his malkin, the five-minute window ticking while his cum worked to break another man’s control.
 
Jai’s voice dropped to a near whisper, but every word was clear.
 
“Yahi ek rasta hai, Bhola. Main apni biwi ko tujhe de raha hoon. Tu usse chod. Uske andar jhad. Aur us haramzade ka control tod. Yeh kaam karega. Maa ne kaha tha. Yeh kaam karega.”
“This is the only way, Bhola. I’m giving you my wife. You fuck her. Cum inside her. And break that bastard’s control. This will work. Mother said so. This will work.”
 
Bhola sat in stunned silence for several long seconds. The yellow light from the streetlamp seemed to press down on both of them. His mind was still full of the thick, filthy images his brother had forced into it — Komal taking his cock, his cum flooding her within the five-minute window, the same cock that had only hours ago been buried deep inside Simran.
 
“Kaise…?” he finally managed. “Ye kaise possible hai, Jai? Main kaise…?”
“How…?” he finally managed. “How is this possible, Jai? How can I…?”
 
Jai looked at him with raw urgency.
 
“Mere ghar pe. Wahan dono hain. Komal aur teri Simran Bhabhi ki maa — Nimrat. Tu ek saath dono ko le sakta hai. Ek hi baar mein. Dono ki choot mein, dono ke muh mein… jahan bhi tera cum jaaye, pehle paanch minute ke andar. Ek hi session mein dono ka control toot sakta hai. Us haramzade ka jahar dono ke dimag se nikal sakta hai.”
“At my house. Both are there. Komal and your Simran Bhabhi’s mother — Nimrat. You can take both together. In one go. In both their pussies, in both their mouths… wherever your cum goes, within the first five minutes. In one session both their controls can break. That bastard’s poison can come out of both their minds.”
 
Bhola’s eyes widened. The words hit him like a physical blow.
 
“Tu… tu mujhse keh raha hai ki main Komal Bhabhi aur Nimrat Aunty ko… ek saath chodun? Dono ko? Ek hi bistar pe? Unki choot mein apna lund daal ke, unke andar jhad ke?” His voice dropped lower, almost hoarse. “Aur uske baad main Simran Bhabhi ka chehra kaise dekhunga, Jai? Who meri malkin hai. Main uske ghar mein rehta hoon. Main uski… uski choot mein cum chhod ke aaya hoon aaj raat. Aur ab tu mujhse keh raha hai ki main uski maa ko bhi chodun?”
“You… you’re telling me to fuck Komal Bhabhi and Nimrat Aunty… together? Both of them? On the same bed? Put my cock in their pussies and cum inside them?” His voice dropped lower, almost hoarse. “And after that how will I face Simran Bhabhi, Jai? She is my mistress. I live in her house. I… I came tonight after leaving cum in her pussy. And now you’re telling me to fuck her mother too?”
 
Jai’s jaw tightened.
 
“In baaton ko kabhi muh se mat nikaalna. Kabhi. Na Komal ke saamne, na Nimrat ke saamne, na kisi ke saamne. Yeh raaz yahin mar jaana chahiye. Tu sirf kaam kar. Cum andar daal. Control tod. Baaki sab chhod de.”
“Never let these words out of your mouth. Never. Not in front of Komal, not in front of Nimrat, not in front of anyone. This secret should die here. You just do the work. Put the cum inside. Break the control. Leave the rest.”
 
Bhola leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the dark road. His still-sensitive cock gave a slow, unwanted throb inside his underwear at the filthy picture forming in his head — Nimrat and Komal both naked, both open, both taking the same thick shaft that had just wrecked Simran, both drinking or receiving his cum while the five-minute window ticked. The same heavy load that had overflowed from Simran’s pussy would now be asked to cleanse two more married women of his father’s poison.
 
He thought for a long time.
 
Finally he spoke, his voice quieter but firm.
 
“Bina bataye nahi ho sakta, Jai. Meri landlady… meri Simran Bhabhi… who itni hot hai, itni sexy hai, aur main uske saath jo kar chuka hoon… uske baad main yeh sab chhupa ke nahi rakh sakta. Mujhe usse baat karni hogi. Is poori problem ke baare mein. Us haramzade baap ke baare mein. Uske cum ke asar ke baare mein. Aur is baat ke baare mein ki sirf mera cum hi us control ko tod sakta hai. Agar main yeh karta hoon, toh use pata hona chahiye.”
“It can’t be done without telling, Jai. My landlady… my Simran Bhabhi… she is so hot, so sexy, and what I’ve already done with her… after that I can’t keep all this hidden. I have to talk to her. About this whole problem. About that bastard father. About the effect of his cum. And about the fact that only my cum can break that control. If I do this, she should know.”
 
Jai’s face tightened with worry.
 
“Kab karega phir? Kab tu un dono ko lega?”
“Then when will you do it? When will you take both of them?”
 
Bhola shook his head slowly. The weight of everything — the long, brutal fucking he had just given Simran, the milk, the cum still inside her, the waist chain and anklet he had put on her, and now this monstrous request — sat heavily on him.
 
“Bhai… main abhi extremly shocked hoon. Mujhe samajhne de kya ho raha hai. Yeh itni badi baat hai. Itni ganda, itna complicated. Raat ke bahut baj chuke hain. Yahan so ja. Kal subah baat karte hain.”
“Brother… I’m extremely shocked right now. Let me understand what’s happening. This is such a big thing. So dirty, so complicated. It’s very late at night. Sleep here. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”
 
Jai immediately refused.
 
“Nahi. Main nahi ruk sakta. Teri Bhabhi ne mujhe bheja hai. Komal ne. Aur usne zaroor Nimrat se bhi baat ki hogi. Dono intezaar kar rahi hongi. Main wapas jaata hoon.”
“No. I can’t stay. Your Bhabhi sent me. Komal did. And she must have talked to Nimrat too. Both must be waiting. I’m going back.”
 
Bhola looked at his younger brother for a long moment. The same brother whose wife he was now being asked to fuck and fill with cum. The same brother who was offering him Nimrat as well — Simran’s own mother — in one filthy, necessary act.
 
“Theek hai,” Bhola said finally. “Phir ja. Abhi.”
“Okay,” Bhola said finally. “Then go. Right now.”
 
Jai stood up. He looked older than his years under the streetlight. He gave a short, tired nod.