One lazy morning, the sun peeked through Gokuldham’s balconies. Jethalal was sprawled on the bed, snoring like a buffalo. Daya, draped in a yellow saree that clung to her sweaty curves, brought a cup of tea to wake him. “Jethiya, get up! It’s 9 already. Shop nahin jana?” she cooed, her voice sweet but teasing. Jethalal just grunted and buried his face in the pillow.

Daya sighed, her saree’s pallu slipping to reveal her deep navel. She glanced around—Tipu was at college, Babuji was at the temple, and the house was dead silent. A naughty smile curled her lips. “Not waking up, huh? Let’s see about that,” she whispered. She knelt by the bed, tugged Jethalal’s pajama down, and his soft cock flopped out. Her soft fingers wrapped around it, stroking slowly. The cock twitched, growing harder with each rub.