I’m Rohan, 26. Living with my elder brother and his wife in a 2BHK in Pune. Bhaiya travels a lot for work. Bhabhi is 29, wheatish, soft-bodied, the kind of woman who looks ordinary in daylight but becomes dangerous the moment the lights are low.
That night the power cut came without warning. Ceiling fan stopped. The room became still and warm. I was sitting in the living room scrolling my phone. Bhabhi came out of the bedroom holding a small emergency light.
She was wearing a light pink cotton nighty, the thin kind that clings when there’s sweat. No bra. I could see the heavy shape of her breasts moving as she walked.
“Fan band ho gaya,” she said, almost to herself. “Bahut garmi hai.”
She sat on the sofa next to me, closer than usual. The emergency light was on the table, throwing a weak yellow circle. Everything outside that circle was dark.
I could smell her — mild soap and the faint scent of her skin after a long day. She adjusted her nighty. The cloth rode up a little on her thighs.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then the heat became heavier. She shifted again. Her shoulder brushed mine.
“Aapko garmi lag rahi hai?” she asked softly.
I nodded. My throat felt dry.
She stood up, went to the kitchen, and came back with two glasses of cold water. When she handed me mine, her fingers stayed against mine for a second longer than needed. She sat down again, even closer this time. Her thigh was touching mine.
The emergency light flickered once.
I turned my head. She was already looking at me. In that weak light her eyes looked darker, lips slightly parted.
I don’t know who moved first. My hand went to her waist. The nighty was damp with sweat. Underneath, her body was soft and warm. She didn’t pull away. Instead she leaned in.
Our mouths met. Soft at first, then deeper. Her tongue moved against mine slowly, tasting. One of her hands came up and rested on my chest. I pulled her closer. Her heavy breasts pressed against me through the thin cloth.
I slid my hand under the nighty. Her ass was round, soft, completely bare except for a thin panty. I squeezed. She made a small sound into my mouth.
I lifted the nighty. She raised her arms and let me take it off. She sat there in only pale panties, her full breasts rising and falling fast. Dark nipples already hard. I bent and took one in my mouth. She held my head and pressed me closer, fingers tightening in my hair.
I pushed her back on the sofa. My hand went inside her panties. She was already wet — properly wet. My fingers slid easily between her soft lips. She opened her legs wider and whispered my name once.
I pulled the panties down. She lifted her hips to help. When they came off, a thin line of wetness connected them to her for a moment.
I opened my pants. She watched as my cock came out, thick and hard. She reached and held it, stroking slowly, eyes fixed on it. Then she leaned forward and took the head in her mouth. Warm, wet, careful at first, then deeper. Her tongue moved under the head while her hand stroked the rest. I held her hair loosely and watched.
After a few minutes she pulled off, breathing hard, and lay back, spreading her legs.
I climbed over her. She guided me to her entrance. The first push went halfway. She was tight and extremely wet. I pushed the rest in slowly. Her mouth opened in a silent moan. When I was fully inside she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper.
I fucked her in long, steady strokes. The sofa made soft sounds. Her breasts moved with every thrust. She kept her eyes open, watching my face, biting her lower lip.
“Thoda tez…” she whispered.
I went harder. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the dark room. She started moaning properly — low, uncontrolled. One of her hands went between us and rubbed her clit while I fucked her.
I felt her get tighter. Her legs locked around me. She came with a broken cry, her pussy pulsing hard around my cock. I kept going through it. Everything became wetter.
I pulled out, turned her onto her stomach, pulled her hips up, and entered her from behind. Deeper this time. She pushed back against me. I held her soft waist and fucked her hard. The flesh of her ass shook with every thrust.
She came again, quieter, face buried in the sofa cushion.
I was close. I pulled out, turned her onto her back, and stroked myself. She watched, then reached and took over, aiming me at her stomach and the underside of her breasts. I came hard — thick ropes across her soft belly and heavy breasts.
We stayed like that for a minute, both breathing heavily in the dark.
The power came back suddenly. The fan started spinning. Bright light filled the room.
She looked at the clock on the wall. 11:17.
She sat up slowly, picked up her nighty, and put it back on without speaking. I pulled my pants up.
At the bedroom door she paused and looked back once.
“Kal bhaiya late aayenge,” she said quietly. “Agar garmi lage… yahan aana.”
Then she closed the door.
I sat on the sofa in the bright light, still smelling her on my fingers, already knowing I would go to her room the next night.
That night the power cut came without warning. Ceiling fan stopped. The room became still and warm. I was sitting in the living room scrolling my phone. Bhabhi came out of the bedroom holding a small emergency light.
She was wearing a light pink cotton nighty, the thin kind that clings when there’s sweat. No bra. I could see the heavy shape of her breasts moving as she walked.
“Fan band ho gaya,” she said, almost to herself. “Bahut garmi hai.”
She sat on the sofa next to me, closer than usual. The emergency light was on the table, throwing a weak yellow circle. Everything outside that circle was dark.
I could smell her — mild soap and the faint scent of her skin after a long day. She adjusted her nighty. The cloth rode up a little on her thighs.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then the heat became heavier. She shifted again. Her shoulder brushed mine.
“Aapko garmi lag rahi hai?” she asked softly.
I nodded. My throat felt dry.
She stood up, went to the kitchen, and came back with two glasses of cold water. When she handed me mine, her fingers stayed against mine for a second longer than needed. She sat down again, even closer this time. Her thigh was touching mine.
The emergency light flickered once.
I turned my head. She was already looking at me. In that weak light her eyes looked darker, lips slightly parted.
I don’t know who moved first. My hand went to her waist. The nighty was damp with sweat. Underneath, her body was soft and warm. She didn’t pull away. Instead she leaned in.
Our mouths met. Soft at first, then deeper. Her tongue moved against mine slowly, tasting. One of her hands came up and rested on my chest. I pulled her closer. Her heavy breasts pressed against me through the thin cloth.
I slid my hand under the nighty. Her ass was round, soft, completely bare except for a thin panty. I squeezed. She made a small sound into my mouth.
I lifted the nighty. She raised her arms and let me take it off. She sat there in only pale panties, her full breasts rising and falling fast. Dark nipples already hard. I bent and took one in my mouth. She held my head and pressed me closer, fingers tightening in my hair.
I pushed her back on the sofa. My hand went inside her panties. She was already wet — properly wet. My fingers slid easily between her soft lips. She opened her legs wider and whispered my name once.
I pulled the panties down. She lifted her hips to help. When they came off, a thin line of wetness connected them to her for a moment.
I opened my pants. She watched as my cock came out, thick and hard. She reached and held it, stroking slowly, eyes fixed on it. Then she leaned forward and took the head in her mouth. Warm, wet, careful at first, then deeper. Her tongue moved under the head while her hand stroked the rest. I held her hair loosely and watched.
After a few minutes she pulled off, breathing hard, and lay back, spreading her legs.
I climbed over her. She guided me to her entrance. The first push went halfway. She was tight and extremely wet. I pushed the rest in slowly. Her mouth opened in a silent moan. When I was fully inside she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper.
I fucked her in long, steady strokes. The sofa made soft sounds. Her breasts moved with every thrust. She kept her eyes open, watching my face, biting her lower lip.
“Thoda tez…” she whispered.
I went harder. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the dark room. She started moaning properly — low, uncontrolled. One of her hands went between us and rubbed her clit while I fucked her.
I felt her get tighter. Her legs locked around me. She came with a broken cry, her pussy pulsing hard around my cock. I kept going through it. Everything became wetter.
I pulled out, turned her onto her stomach, pulled her hips up, and entered her from behind. Deeper this time. She pushed back against me. I held her soft waist and fucked her hard. The flesh of her ass shook with every thrust.
She came again, quieter, face buried in the sofa cushion.
I was close. I pulled out, turned her onto her back, and stroked myself. She watched, then reached and took over, aiming me at her stomach and the underside of her breasts. I came hard — thick ropes across her soft belly and heavy breasts.
We stayed like that for a minute, both breathing heavily in the dark.
The power came back suddenly. The fan started spinning. Bright light filled the room.
She looked at the clock on the wall. 11:17.
She sat up slowly, picked up her nighty, and put it back on without speaking. I pulled my pants up.
At the bedroom door she paused and looked back once.
“Kal bhaiya late aayenge,” she said quietly. “Agar garmi lage… yahan aana.”
Then she closed the door.
I sat on the sofa in the bright light, still smelling her on my fingers, already knowing I would go to her room the next night.