Hello friends, today I’m bringing you a steamy hot story from my life, a day I’ll never forget when I fucked my bhabhi, Urmila, hard and wild. Urmila wasn’t just any woman—she was a fucking bombshell. Around 30 years old, fair skin, curvy body, and when she wore a saree, man, you had to hold your dick to keep from losing it. Her big, juicy tits were always straining against her blouse, like they were begging to pop out. Her slim waist and round, jiggly ass swayed like a dream when she walked, and her smile? Fuck, it could make your cock twitch without even trying. I was 25 then, young, horny, and every time I saw her, my dick was on fire.
She lived in the flat below mine. Her husband, my bhaiya, worked in some company. He was decent but nothing special—plain face, average build, no match for a hot piece like Urmila. I’d go to their place often, chilling for hours, chatting, joking. Her flirty vibe, her laugh, the way she teased me—it all made me want to fuck her brains out. But I was scared. What if I said something dirty and she got pissed or told bhaiya? So, I played it smart. I got close to them first. I gave bhaiya so much respect he started treating me like his little brother. And Urmila? She called me her “cute devar,” teasing me with that naughty smile. Slowly, I became part of their family.
But then, boom, my world crashed. They were moving to a new flat. I was fucking gutted. All my efforts down the drain? Luckily, their new place was just 100 meters away, but still, my visits dropped to once or twice a week.
One chilly morning, around 9 AM, I showed up at their new flat. My office was nearby, and I usually left at 10, but that day I went early. Bhaiya was already gone for work by 8. Urmila opened the door, grinning, “Hey, Mukesh, come in! What’s up?” I said, “I’m good, bhabhi, but you guys moved so far, it’s not the same.” She laughed, “Oh, really? Tell bhaiya to move back then!” I chuckled, “Nah, he won’t do that.” She said, “Sit, I’ll make chai.”
It was cold, and she was wearing a thin blue nighty, no bra. Her massive tits bounced like crazy with every step, nipples poking through the fabric. My cock was rock hard in seconds. I thought, fuck it, this is my shot. I blurted out, nervous as hell, “Bhabhi, I want something from you.” She came back with chai and snacks, smirking, “What do you want? Tell me.” I stammered, “It’s… something you have.” She giggled, “What, being naughty, huh?” I said, “No, no, nothing like that. I… I want a kiss.”
She burst out laughing, “A kiss? Come back at 9 PM when bhaiya’s here, take it in front of him!” I got serious, “Bhabhi, I’m not joking.” She stopped laughing, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “Neither am I. Take it in front of bhaiya, I’m not stopping you.” Her eyes had this playful spark, but I was shitting bricks. My heart was pounding, my breath heavy. I pushed, “Bhabhi, please, just one kiss, what’s the harm?” She went quiet, then walked to the door, peeked outside, and leaned against the wall, like she was giving me the green light.
I got up, my dick throbbing. Her pink lips were calling me. I grabbed her hand gently and went for a kiss. She giggled, shy but teasing, like she wanted it but was playing hard to get. I pressed my lips to hers—soft, warm, fucking perfect. I kissed her cheeks, then my hand slid to her massive tits. I squeezed, but they were so big they spilled out of my grip. I pressed harder, feeling her nipples stiffen. Suddenly, she pulled away, her face serious. “I’m telling bhaiya everything,” she said. My heart sank. I mumbled, “Sorry,” and bolted.
At the office, I couldn’t focus. What if she told bhaiya? I was fucked. Around noon, the office landline rang. It was her. “Hello, it’s me,” she said. I panicked, thinking she’d called bhaiya. “Bhabhi, what’s up?” I asked, voice shaking. She said, “What did you do back there?” I stammered, “Nothing, bhabhi! I’m sorry if I messed up. I won’t do it again.” She cut me off, “No, I want it. Do it. Come to my place now.” I said, “Bhabhi, please, I’m sorry.” She got mad, “If you don’t come, I’ll tell everyone.” I was trapped. “Okay, I’ll come tomorrow morning. Can’t get leave today.”
Next day, I reached her place at 8:30 AM. The flat was locked. Bhaiya left for work at 8, and I found out Urmila was at her friend’s place next door. I went there. She saw me and whispered, “How do I go home now? What will she think?” I said, “Tell her Mukesh needs money, you’re getting it from home.” She did, and we went back to her flat.
As soon as we got in, she locked the door. Without a word, she untied her salwar, letting it drop. Then her panties came off. She lay on the bed, covering her pussy with her kurta. Her thick, fair thighs and those huge tits under the kurta were driving me wild. My cock was screaming to get out. I pounced on her, kissing her lips like a starved man. Her lips tasted like sweet fucking honey. I held her tight, her tits pressing into my chest, the neckline of her kurta slipping to show her deep cleavage. I lifted her kurta slowly, stroking her smooth thighs, spreading her legs.
Her pussy was pink, wet, and ready. I dove in, licking her slowly. She moaned, “Aahh… Mukesh… fuck…” I sucked her clit, and she started grinding her hips, her moans louder, “Uff… ohhh…” I slid two fingers into her tight pussy, moving them in and out. Her breaths got heavy, and she gasped, “Stop teasing, fuck me already!” I ripped off my pants, my 7-inch cock springing out, the tip dripping. I rubbed it against her pussy lips, teasing her. She groaned, “Put it in, please… don’t make me wait…”
I pushed in slowly, my cock sliding halfway into her tight, wet pussy. She let out a loud, “Ohhh… fuckkk…” I started thrusting, slow at first, feeling her pussy grip my dick like a vice. I grabbed her fat ass cheeks, pulling her closer with every thrust. The room filled with the wet fap-fap sound of her pussy and her moans, “Aahh… Mukesh… harder… fuck me harder…” I went full force, pounding her, her huge tits bouncing out of her kurta, jiggling with every thrust. I grabbed one, squeezing her nipple, and she screamed, “Ohhh… your cock’s so fucking thick… aahh…”
I lifted her legs onto my shoulders, going deeper, my cock hitting her core. Her pussy was soaked, my dick sliding in and out effortlessly. We fucked for a solid 20 minutes, her moans echoing, “Uhh… haaay… keep going… fuck my pussy…” I felt my balls tighten. “Bhabhi, I’m gonna cum,” I grunted. She gasped, “Not inside… pull out…” I pulled out, shooting my load all over her stomach. She came too, her body shaking, her pussy pulsing. We collapsed, panting, her in my arms. After a few minutes, I kissed her again and left.
The next day, I went back, but the flat was locked. A neighbor said she’d gone to her village and wouldn’t be back for two months. I waited. When I finally saw her again, she dropped a bomb. “Mukesh, I’m pregnant with your kid.” I was stunned. “How? It’s gotta be bhaiya’s.” She shook her head, “I haven’t let him touch me in a year. He can’t even fuck.” I was floored. A few days later, she moved to Gujarat. I never heard from her again.
So, friends, what did you think of my hot fucking story? Rate it with stars below and drop a comment to let me know!