The Diwali night shimmered like a fever dream: strings of fairy lights dripping gold over every balcony, the air thick with ghee-sweet motichoor laddoo, marigold garlands, and the crackle of anaar crackers.In the heart of the Indore society, Anjali bhabhi stood on her third-floor terrace, a sheer mustard-yellow chanderi saree clinging to her curves like […]
The Holi morning exploded in color and chaos: pichkaris spraying neon pinks and greens, bhang-laced thandai flowing, dholaks pounding like heartbeats.In the sprawling courtyard of the Surat society, Sneha bhabhi danced barefoot in a soaked white cotton kurti and ghagra, the fabric plastered to every curve, nipples dark and hard beneath. Her husband, Rajesh bhai,
The Navratri night throbbed like a living heartbeat: dandiya sticks cracking, garba circles swirling under marigold-lit canopies, the air heavy with rose attar, sweat, and the relentless dhak-dhak of dhol.In the heart of the Ahmedabad society ground, Priya bhabhi danced in a blood-red bandhani chaniya choli, mirror-work flashing like fire with every spin. Her husband,
The Sharma flat was a furnace of silence and heat, the ceiling fan spinning lazily like it knew what was coming. Sunlight sliced through the lace curtains, striping the marble floor in gold. Rohan’s toolkit lay open on the kitchen counter, forgotten. His cock strained against his jeans, already leaking at the sight of Neha