The honeymoon suite was bathed in golden afternoon light, but all I could see was the way your saree clung to your curves—especially those milky, heavy tits that kept threatening to spill out with every breath you took. You caught me staring and smirked, rolling your shoulders so the fabric dipped just enough to tease me. "Like what you see, husband?" you purred, stepping closer, your hips swaying like you were already riding me.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I reached out and tugged the saree’s pallu down, exposing your bare shoulders and the deep valley between your tits. You gasped, but not in protest—no, you *wanted* this. "Fuck, Priya," I growled, my hands sliding up to palm those soft, heavy globes. They were even better than I imagined—warm, full, nipples already hard from the heat of your arousal.
You bit your lip, eyes dark with hunger. "Feed from me," you commanded, pushing one tit toward my mouth. "Just like a hungry little baby." I didn’t need to be told twice. I latched on, sucking greedily, my tongue swirling around your nipple as you moaned above me. Your fingers tangled in my hair, holding me there, forcing me to take more of you. "That’s it," you cooed, grinding your pussy against my thigh. "Take what’s yours, husband."
The taste of you was intoxicating—sweet, musky, *perfect*. I suckled harder, my free hand sliding down to palm your ass, squeezing the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your saree. You were dripping already, the scent of your arousal filling the air, making my dick throb painfully against my pants.
"You’re such a good boy," you murmured, pulling me away from your tit with a wet pop. Before I could protest, you straddled my lap, grinding your soaked pussy against my dick. "But I need more from you." Your hand slid down to my belt, unfastening it with practiced ease. My cock sprang free, already leaking pre-cum, and you groaned at the sight of it. "Look at this," you teased, wrapping your fingers around my shaft and stroking me slowly. "Such a pretty little dick for me."
I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your back on the bed, pinning you beneath me. You laughed breathlessly as I yanked your saree down completely, leaving you gloriously naked beneath me. "Fuck, you’re gorgeous," I groaned, my hands roaming over your body—your full tits, your flat stomach, the heat between your thighs. I didn’t even bother undressing. I just shoved my face between your legs and took my first taste.
You screamed as my tongue found your clit, licking and sucking like a man starved. Your hips bucked off the bed, your fingers tangling in my hair as you rode my face. "Oh god, just like that," you panted. "Don’t stop, I’m gonna—fuck!" Your thighs clamped around my head as you came, your pussy gushing into my mouth. I lapped up every drop, not wasting a single drop of your sweet nectar.
But you weren’t done with me yet.
You shoved me onto my back and climbed on top of me, your thighs straddling my face as you hovered your dripping pussy over my mouth. "Now you’re gonna drink from the source," you said, grinning wickedly. "Every last drop." Before I could protest—or beg—you lowered yourself onto my face, and I groaned as your juices flooded my mouth. I drank you down greedily, my hands gripping your ass, pulling you closer, making sure I didn’t miss a single drop.
You came again, this time with a scream, your pussy pulsing against my lips as I licked and sucked you through your orgasm. When you finally rolled off me, panting and sated, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and grinned. "Happy honeymoon so far?"
You laughed, pulling me into a kiss that tasted like salt and sin. "Just getting started, husband." And I knew you weren’t lying.