Desi Bhabhi seduce by her naughty devar in the private room

So the desi bhabhi thing happened to me last summer when my brother was out of town for work, and honestly I still think about it—his wife and I had always had this weird tension, and one night she just knocked on my door in this thin cotton saree, saying she couldn’t sleep, and we ended up sitting way too close on the bed, her shoulder brushing mine, the fan humming overhead, and when she finally leaned in and kissed me, it was slow and deliberate, like she’d been planning it for weeks, her hands finding the back of my neck while mine found her waist, the saree slipping loose, everything after that a blur of whispered names and tangled sheets, her breath hot against my ear, the room dim except for the streetlight leaking through the curtains, and afterward she just smiled, pressed a finger to my lips, and slipped back to her room like nothing had happened, leaving me staring at the ceiling, heart pounding, wondering if I’d dreamed the whole thing.