Indian Hot Wife In Bathroom Taking Showing Fingering Herself Masturbation

Title: The Lustful Indian Wife’s Secret Shower Seduction

As the steam billowed from the bathroom, a lushcurvy Indian woman stood under the cascading water, her ebony hair cascading down her back in wet tendrils. She arched her body, the water sluicing over her ample breasts and toned stomach before pooling at her feet. With a sigh of pleasure, she reached for the soap and began to lather her skin.

Her name was Priya, a twenty-eight-year-old housewife with a fiery temper and an insatiable appetite for pleasure. The years had been kind to her; her skin was smooth and unblemished, her waist slender despite the birth of two children. Yet, as she stood there, a hunger began to stir within her, a primal need that could only be satiated by forbidden fruit.

Priya’s eyes fluttered closed as she traced the contours of her body with practiced ease. She cupped and lifted her heavy breasts, the soap frothing between her fingers and sliding down her slick skin. Her nipples hardened under her touch, yearning for more attention. Desire bubbled in her core, a familiar heat that always came calling.

She moved lower, her hands skimming over the taut plane of her stomach before dipping between her thighs. She groaned as she felt her own wetness, her arousal increasing with each brush against her sensitive folds. Slowly, she parted the delicate petals of her sex, opening herself up to her probing fingers.

Priya’s breath hitched as she circled her clit with a teasing touch. The bud throbbed beneath her ministrations, swelling with need. She rubbed and flicked, the pleasure building with each pass. Her other hand crept higher, tweaking a pebbled nipple as she worked herself into a frenzy.

Higher and higher, her arousal mounted, her hips rocking against her hand as she chased her peak. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, not wanting to alert her husband to her sordid solo activities. It wasn’t enough; she needed more, needed to be filled and stretched and pushed to her limits.

Desperate now, Priya plunged two fingers deep inside her tight channel, thrilling at the sudden fullness. She pumped them steadily, curling them to stroke her most sensitive spot. Her slick walls fluttered around the digits, gripping and releasing as she drove herself closer to the edge.

Her free hand reached between her legs to join the other, parting her folds obscenely wide. She worked two more fingers into her dripping heat, scissoring and stretching. The burn of the slight discomfort only spurred her on, her body wanting to be utterly conquered.

Her head fell back against the tiled wall, the hot spray of the showercourseing over her face and dripping through her slack mouth as she panted with need. She imagined it was her husband’s cock spearating her, splitting her open on his thick shaft. The thought sent her hurtling towards orgasm, her inner muscles clenching violently around her invading fingers.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, her grip tightening on her breasts. They were going to be sore by morning, turgid peaks aching from her rough play. The idea only served to heighten her excitement.

Priya pinched and pulled at a nipple, mirroring the work of her fingers inside her. She fucked herself hard and fast, the filthy squelch of her passages echoing in the steam-filled room. She could feel her climax building, coiling tight in her core like a spring wound too far.

“Please,” she begged, though she wasn’t sure who or what she was pleading with. Pleasure, release, a promise of something to come. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was chasing the pinnacle of her impending bliss.

Then, with a keening cry that was barely more than a whimper, Priya came undone. Her graph collided around her hand, the rhythmic squeezing sending bolts of white-hot ecstasy racing through her body. Her toes curled against the slippery tile as she rode out the waves of euphoria.

As the aftershocks faded, she slumped against the wall, her chest heaving and her skin blazing with heat. Her fingers were slick and sticky with the evidence of her release, making her feel a rush of shame and triumph at the same time.

Priya knew she should feel guilty for her wanton behavior, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was a grown woman, sexy and desirable, and she damn well knew it. If she wanted to take care of her own needs, she would do so without apology.

With a contented sigh, she reached for the shampoo, ready to wash away the residue of her transgression. But she made a mental note to avoid tight pants for the rest of the day; she’d have bruises in the shape of her own digits tomorrow, a secret badge of her wicked conduct.

As she stepped out of the shower, the flicker of a reflection caught her eye. She turned to face the mirror, her curiosity piqued. What she saw stole the breath from her lungs.

There, standing before her, was the most gorgeous creature she had ever seen. Her skin was flushed, glimmering with droplets that cascaded down her voluptuous form. Her eyes sparkled with illicit knowledge, knowing the hidden depths of her own pleasure.

Priya couldn’t help but grin at her own image in the glass, reveling in her own sensuality. She knew she would do this again, perhaps even bring her husband in on the action the next time. But for now, she would bask in the glow of her self-induced satisfaction.

Wrapping a fluffy towel around her lush curves, Priya sashayed out of the bathroom, ready to face the day with renewed vigor and a delicious secret. Let her husband try to keep up with the insatiable vixen he had married.