It was already past midnight. The house was quiet. Only the fan was spinning lazily on the ceiling, and next to her husband, this Bengali wife was still tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She whispered softly. Her husband turned to her, slightly confused. She didn't say a word, just took his hand and placed it on her waist under the sheet... That's where it all began. She had been waiting all day, all evening, hiding her desires behind everyday affairs. But now, under the moonlight coming through the window, she wanted to be touched, kissed, possessed. Her nipples were already hard, her thighs slightly parted. A deep sigh escaped her lips as his fingers slid over her belly. The tension was building slowly... no rush... just primal, unprepared chemistry. The room was filled with Bengali moans - soft, greedy, wet. She whispered in his ear something she had never said before... It wasn't just sex. It was a storm of thirst between a loving...
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