ਇਸ ਕਹਾਣੀ ਦਾ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਵਰਜਨ ਪੜ੍ਹਨ ਲਈ ਇੱਥੇ ਕਲਿੱਕ ਕਰੋ
My elder brother, Gurpreet, had gone to Canada for a 3-month work project. He left his beautiful wife, Simran, alone in our big house in Ludhiana. Simran Bhabhi was 29 years old — the perfect Punjabi woman. Fair skin, long black hair that reached her waist, big expressive eyes, and a body that made every man weak.
She had massive 36DD breasts, a deep navel, wide hips, and a thick, juicy gaand that swayed hypnotically when she walked in a saree. Everyone in the mohalla called her “Sone di Bhabhi” (Golden Bhabhi).
I was 23, just finished college, and living with them. Ever since Bhaiya left, Bhabhi had started behaving differently with me.
One evening, I came back from the gym. Bhabhi was in the kitchen making dinner, wearing a thin red saree with a low-cut blouse. Her pallu had slipped down, showing deep cleavage. Sweat was glistening between her breasts.
“Veere, aa ja… paani pi la,” she said softly, handing me a glass of cold water.
As I drank, she stood very close. I could smell her perfume mixed with her body scent. My cock started getting hard.
“Ajj bohut thand hai na?” she asked, even though it was quite warm.
She deliberately brushed her heavy breasts against my arm while reaching for something. I froze.
That night, she called me to the living room.
“Sunny, massi de ghar jauna hai kal. Tu ghar te hi rehna, theek hai?” she said, sitting very close to me on the sofa.
Her saree pallu had again fallen, and her deep cleavage was fully visible. I couldn’t stop staring.
“Bhabhi… aap bohut beautiful lagdi ho aaj,” I said nervously.
She smiled seductively. “Fer? Tere dil vich ki chal reha hai?”
That was the moment everything changed.
She took my hand and placed it directly on her soft, heavy breast.
“Chhoo le… eh tere liye hi wait kar rahi si,” she whispered.
I squeezed her boob. It was so soft and heavy. Bhabhi moaned softly, “Hmmm… zor naal dabba veere…”
I pulled her close and kissed her. Her lips were hot and sweet. She kissed me back passionately, sucking my tongue.
She broke the kiss and whispered in my ear, “Aaj main teri Punjabi Bhabhi nahi… teri randi ban ke dikhaungi.”
She stood up, removed her pallu completely, and started unwrapping her saree slowly like a striptease. Soon she was standing in just her red blouse and petticoat. Her blouse was so tight that her breasts were almost spilling out.
I pulled her to the bedroom.
Bhabhi pushed me on the bed and climbed on top of me. She sat on my face in full weight.
“Chaat meri chut veere… bohut geeli ho rahi aa tere liye.”
I pulled her petticoat up and buried my face in her wet, hairy Punjabi pussy. She tasted sweet and musky. I licked her clit while she moaned loudly.
“Aaahhh… bahut changa lag raha aa… hor zor naal chaat!”
While I was eating her pussy, she reached back and started stroking my hard cock.
She suddenly turned around into 69 position and took my entire cock in her mouth.
“Ter lund bohut mota aa… main ehnu apni chut vich lena chaundi aa.”
She sucked me like a whore, deepthroating and gagging while I fingered her asshole.
After some time she got up, removed her blouse, and her massive tits bounced free. She climbed on top of me and guided my cock into her wet chut.
“Ooohhh fuck… tere lund ne meri chut phaad ditti,” she moaned as she started riding me hard.
Her big tits were bouncing wildly. I grabbed them and sucked her nipples hard while she rode me like a pornstar.
“Hor zor naal chod veere… meri chut nu faad de!”
I flipped her over and fucked her hard in missionary. Her legs were on my shoulders. I pounded her deep while she screamed in pleasure.
“Main tere bache da ma ban’na chaundi aa… andar hi paa de apna maal!”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I filled her womb with thick ropes of cum.
But Bhabhi was not satisfied yet.
She pushed me down again and sat on my face.
“Ab meri gaand chaat… main tere muh te baith ke apni gaand saaf karwauni aa.”
I licked her asshole while she rubbed her cum-filled pussy on my tongue. She came again, shaking violently.
Then she gave me the best tittyfuck of my life. Her soft, heavy breasts wrapped around my cock as she drooled spit on them.
“Ter lund mere mamme vich bohut changa lagda aa…”
I exploded all over her face and tits. She scooped my cum and swallowed it with a smile.
We fucked three more times that night — once in the shower, once on the kitchen counter, and once in the morning before she left for her massi’s house.
From that day onwards, whenever Bhaiya was away, Bhabhi became my personal randi. She started wearing sarees without blouse at home, sent me nude pictures, and let me fuck her in every corner of the house.
One day she whispered while riding my cock:
“Main tere bhai di wife aa… par meri chut, meri gaand, mere mamme… sab tere hain veere.”
