Hello, dear readers I am Puneeta, a 5’ft tall frame 33-year-old chubby Indian wife with a soft, curvy body, my heavy, juicy saggy 38D tits that beg to be touched. I weigh 79 kilograms with most of that weight in my wide hips and thick thighs. My long, dark brown hair falls past my waist in soft waves framing my round, cherubic face.

And Harsh my tall, strapping devar is four years younger than me at 29 and weighs 83 kilograms of pure muscle.

He is the younger brother of my husband and single with no woman to call his own. And his manhood is long and thick promising to stretch and fill me until I scream with pleasure. So now you know everything there is to know about us. Physically, at least.

The sterile white walls of the house seemed to mock us, and I found my devar Harsh pacing like a caged tiger, his face etched with a pain I knew all too well. The news of his cancelled visa had shattered his dreams, and I knew it, and his usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a raw, untamed grief. “Why, Puneeta bhabhi? Why does this always happen to me?” he cried, his voice laced with a frustration that resonated deep within my soul. His tall, athletic frame was slumped with defeat, and I knew this was the moment. This was the moment to bridge the unspoken gap between us, to finally acknowledge the desires we had both kept hidden for so long.

“Come here, Harsh,” I said softly, my voice a soothing balm, and I wanted to comfort him. He looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a vulnerability that tore at my heart. He hesitated for a moment, then walked towards me, his steps heavy with despair. “It’s all right,” I whispered, as I put my hand on his shoulder, and I gently guided him to the plush sofa in the living room. “It’s okay to be sad,” I said, and I could feel his pain. I could no longer ignore my feelings. “I will make you happy, I promise.”

I knelt before him, and I reached out, and I began to unbutton his shirt, my fingers trembling slightly. “You know,” I said, my voice a low, husky whisper, “that sometimes, destiny has other plans for us.” My eyes met his, and the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Harsh didn’t move, and the sudden attention was enough to get him out of his misery for a moment. I lowered my head and gently placed my hand on his cock, and I started to stroke it. His eyes widened, and a flicker of surprise mixed with desire ignited in his gaze.

His cock was throbbing in my hand, and I continued stroking, my touch slow and deliberate, savoring the feel of his warmth against my palm. “Puneeta,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and I leaned in and placed my lips on his cock, and I gave him a blowjob. I started slowly, teasing him with my tongue, and I felt him quiver, and I let my tongue dance over his cock, and he was close. I quickened the pace, and I could feel his excitement building, and I brought him to the edge. The abruptness of my actions seemed to stun Harsh, his eyes widening in a mix of surprise and confusion. He had been completely consumed by his despair, and my sudden intimacy was a shock. “Bhabhi, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice hesitant, his gaze searching my face. He seemed unsure, and I understood his hesitation. He wanted to be certain that I was indeed initiating this, that this was not a fleeting moment. I smiled, a mischievous glint in my eyes, and I continued to stroke his cock, my touch deliberate.

“Don’t you like it, Harsh?” I purred, my voice a low, seductive whisper, and I wanted to tease him. I tilted my head, and I leaned in closer, my gaze locked on his. “You seem to be enjoying it,” I said, my voice filled with amusement, and I watched as his eyes flickered with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice still hesitant, but the tension was palpable. “Absolutely,” I replied, my voice firm, and I knew he was enjoying the blowjob. “You’re my devar, but I have always wanted you.”

I leaned back, and I pulled away, and I watched his face. The initial shock was fading, replaced by a growing arousal, and I knew I had him hooked. “Do you know, Harsh,” I said, my voice a playful tease, “that I’ve always had a thing for bad boys?” I paused, my eyes twinkling, “and you, my dear, have always been a bit of a rebel. Did you know that?” He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, and I knew I had his attention. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Maybe,” I replied, my voice a playful tease, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I have been with other men, but they are nothing compared to you.”

“Oh, and by the way,” I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I have always preferred them tall, athletic, and a little bit naughty, just like you.” I leaned in close, brushing my lips against his ear, and I whispered, “I have been waiting for you for so long, Harsh.” My words hung in the air, and I could feel the heat rising between us. I could see the desire burning in his eyes. “You’re playing with fire, Puneeta,” he said, his voice thick with a mixture of desire and warning, but I could see that he was enjoying it.

I rose from the sofa, my eyes locked with his, and I unbuttoned my saree. I let it fall to the floor, and I was standing before him in nothing but a lacy bra and panties. He gazed at me, his eyes devouring my body, and he was shaken up by my audacity. “I have never seen you like this before,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder, and I knew he was ready. “I want you to know what you’ve been missing all these years,” I said, my voice a low, seductive whisper, and I wanted him.