Part 3 narrates the first struggles encountered upon returning home.
I paid the taxi driver and helped Bhabhi out of the taxi. Then I led bhabhi to the sofa and took off her shoes and socks. After that, I went to the kitchen to get some water and food for bhabhi. The hospital food was terrible, so she did not have much to eat all day. I had stocked up on bhabhi’s favorite food, butter chicken and garlic naan knowing she would be hungry upon returning home.
I came back to the living room and fed bhabhi with my own hands. She ate it all up, but she was still hungry. So I got her some more. She couldn’t get enough. I was amazed at how much bhabhi could eat. I guess, the fact that she was a new mother and lactating meant that her calorie intake had increased significantly as well.
Later, I put the dishes away and came back to sit with her on the sofa. We made idle talk, about stocking up on groceries. She asked me all that the doctor discussed with me. Things seemed like they were almost normal again until I saw that bhabhi started to look very pale. She was squirming in her seat. She had a look of anguish and discomfort on her face and sweat beads had started to form on her forehead.
Me: bhabhi, is everything ok? You don’t look well.
Bhabhi: I am ok Sonu. it’s nothing.
I let it go but after about 15 minutes, her facial anguish and discomfort became even more pronounced, and she was sweating profusely.
It dawned on me that bhabhi was still in her jacket and that must be what is making her so uncomfortable and sweaty.
Me: Bhabhi, let me help you out of your jacket. You will feel better.
Bhabhi: No Sonu, leave it be. I am fine. It’s nothing.
Me: It’s obvious you’re not fine, bhabhi. You are sweating a lot and your facial expression clearly shows you’re in discomfort. Please listen to me and let me help you take off the jacket. You’ll feel better.
Bhabhi realized she couldn’t keep saying no and had to take the jacket off at some point so reluctantly she nodded, giving her approval. Then she stood up and I walked behind and carefully slid the jacket off her arms.
When I turned around to face bhabhi, my jaw dropped at the sight in front of me. Bhabhi’s hospital provided a light blue cotton shirt with two huge wet spots. The shirt was completely soaked with milk around the area where her nipples were poking through the shirt! Her tits were leaking profusely, so much so that most of the milk was seeping through her bra and onto her blue shirt.
That was when I realized why the nurse insisted that bhabhi wear a jacket even in this hot humid climate. It was to save bhabhi from the embarrassment in front of all of us.
Bhabhi looked down at her shirt and noticed the wet spots that I was looking at. And in that moment, the shame of standing there in front of her younger brother-in-law in this indecent state was too much for her to bear. She couldn’t move her arms to cover herself. All she could do was turn around and silently cry.
I didn’t know what to do, but I had to do something to alleviate her discomfort and stop her from crying. Then I went to my room and got a small hand towel. I got in front of her and started patting the wet spots. Bhabhi pulled back with anger and annoyance on her face.
Bhabhi: Stop, Sonu! What are you doing!?
Me: I thought this would help, bhabhi. I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do after seeing you crying.
Bhabhi: Sonu, you don’t understand anything. Sorry, it’s not your fault, Sonu. I’m just annoyed at my situation.
Tears started forming in her eyes and she said –
Bhabhi: Sonu, this is not a situation either of us should be in. This was never going to be easy and it’s highly inappropriate for you to help me with such issues and for me to ask your help. This is not something a devar should ever need to help his bhabhi with.
Me: Bhabhi, please don’t cry. We will figure out a way together as a family. We have been through difficult situations before, and we’ll get through this as well.
Bhabhi. There is only one solution, Sonu.
Me: What’s that, bhabhi?
Bhabhi (still with tears rolling down her cheeks): Sonu, please take me to my mother’s place. There she can help me without hesitation, and it will be easier for both you and me as well.
Me: Bhabhi, please don’t say that. It will bring shame to both bhaiya and me that we were not able to care for you when you needed it most. He made me promise that I would take care of your needs at your own home.
Bhabhi: Did your brother even realize what he is asking you to help with, Sonu? Did he even consider all the things I will need help with now and the situation he is putting us in? What was he thinking making you promise such a thing?
Me: Bhabhi, if bhaiya has given me this responsibility, then clearly he knows what comes with it and he has full faith and trust in me to handle it. Not everything needs to be put in words. He trusts me like a son and knows you have always been like a mother to me.
Bhabhi: I don’t know what to do, Sonu. You and your brother have put me in a tough spot. I don’t know how we will manage but right now, I am in unbearable pain. I have not been able to remove the milk since this morning in the hospital and now they are full and hurting.
It was clearly embarrassing for her to talk about something so private with me, something that she previously would have only spoken about with bhaiya. But the pain and desperation had won over any feelings of shame.
I couldn’t believe I was standing here talking to my motherly bhabhi about her fully engorged lactating breasts that were leaking uncontrollably. It was not a conversation I ever expected to have with my brother’s wife in a million years.
Me: Bhabhi, you tell me how I can help, and I will do exactly that.
Bhabhi: There are some blankets in my bedroom drawers. Please go and bring that, Sonu.
Then I went to bhabhi’s room and started opening drawers. I found a drawer with a blanket, a soft thin white one with a dark blue cross hatch pattern.
Me: I got the blanket, bhabhi.
Still with her back to me in an effort to hide the wet spots, bhabhi turned around to face me.
Bhabhi: Wrap it around my upper body, Sonu.
I had to lift bhabhi’s hand and reach around wrapping Bhabhi with the blanket. But Bhabhi’s frame was so big, that my hands accidentally touched her breasts through the blue shirt all over the place and briefly even brushed past the wet spots. But we both knew it wasn’t intentional, so no words were exchanged.
Me: Ok, now what, bhabhi?
She had overcome the embarrassment of what she had to ask me to do next. But the pain from the pressure of her engorged breasts forced her to speak. Then she turned around so that her back was facing me.
Bhabhi: Sonu, you will have to reach under the blanket, lift my shirt up, unhook the backstrap, and remove my bra.
I had never unhooked or taken a bra off before. But like all boys, I had imagined doing it someday when I have a girlfriend, but not in a million years did I think my first will be my bhabhi, someone I revered and looked up to not just as an elder but as a motherly figure in my life.
Then I reached under the blanket (near her waist), grabbed the edges of her blue shirt, and lifted it all the way up until they were bunched up around her armpit just above where her cleavage starts. I had seen glimpses of bhabhi’s back before when she wore sarees. But this was different. Her whole back was wet and shiny from all the sweating.
Now in front of me was her cream-colored bra backstrap that needed to be unhooked. I wondered if even bhaiya had ever removed bhabhi’s bra himself during their intimate private moments or did she do it herself? Was I, her much younger brother-in-law, going to be the first male in her life to remove her bra? Would there be others after me?
With shaking hands, I reached for the hooks. But I struggled to undo them as they were really tight, but kept trying and finally, it came undone. Her bra straps dangled down on her sides. Her bra however remained in place on the front, under the white blanket, refusing to fall down.
Then my bhaiya’s wife turned around facing me once again, frustrated that her bra didn’t fall down even after unhooking from the back. She just looked at me but didn’t say anything, hoping I would know what to do without her having to verbalize it.
I didn’t need any further instructions. I felt around under the blanket trying to get a grip on her bra to pull it down. But the cotton bra fabric was wrapped so snugly and tight against her breasts that I was unable to grasp and pull it down. It was obvious that her bra was too small for what she was hiding inside them.
While struggling to get a grasp, my hands touched her breasts through her bra for far longer than was necessary. Then I looked up at bhabhi and saw an annoyance building on her face so I did the only thing that would work without prolonging her agony, which was put my fingers between her bra and breast flesh, get a grasp on her bra, pulled the bra forcefully down underneath the blanket, and out in my hands in one swift motion.
The moment I pulled her bra down, her massive milk bags flopped all the way down, swaying side to side underneath the blanket like two large milk pendulums, thanking me for finally freeing them. They hung down just above her navel. They were not just bigger than her head, they dwarfed it.
It was a sight to behold! A sight any man bhabhi knew could have only wished to see her in – whether it be friends or family. Others she knew would have to keep wishing for the chance to see her in this state of indecency someday, at least for now.
Even through the thin white cotton blanket, I could make out the shape of bhabhi’s heavy knockers with huge dark brown areolas and nipples with milk drops forming, visible just past where the blanket ended, and my eyes refused to shift focus. I briefly became motionless with wonder and astonishment.
Each breast was the size of a watermelon, and possibly as heavy. They were fair in color with dark bluish-green veins crisscrossing the surface of each breast. My sister-in-law’s areolas were wide and bumpy and at the center was a long, stiff, and moist funnel-shaped nipple that could gauge an eye out. They looked rugged and worn out, indicating they had regularly been played with and manhandled.
My mind wondered how all this time, living under the same roof, she had managed to keep these massive jugs hidden. How I had been so oblivious to the enormous size of what she had been walking around the house with for all these years.
It was always obvious to anyone with eyes that bhabhi was not only a tall thick woman with a large frame. But was also blessed with assets that drew stares from men and women alike, no matter where we went.
Heck, even some of my closest friends in the past had jokingly made crude offensive remarks about her. But this, this was not obvious to those who had only seen her in proper decent attire. I never thought I would get to see bhabhi in this state of indecency and now all I wanted to do was reach forward and grab her heavy-hanging milk bags, hold them, and kiss them. My gaze at her jugs was only broken when I heard Bhabhi calling my name.
Bhabhi: Sonu, you can keep the bra down now and please bring the breast pump the nurse gave me in the morning. It should be in the bag on the dining table.
I looked down at my hands and indeed, I was still holding her bra. The bra was damp from her leaking milk, and it was big. But clearly no match for those massive beauties they had struggled to contain. I kept the bra down and brought the pump to bhabhi.
It was a manual pump, consisting of a milk bottle attached to a funnel-shaped flange that attaches to the areola and a handle that needs to be pressed to activate the suction at the flange. She explained how to turn it on and which settings to adjust.
Then bhabhi sat back down on the sofa. As she sat, her magnificently large udders flopped down, sagging past her navel and resting in her lap, her nipples and areolas touching her thighs.
I moved closer to bhabhi and knelt between her thighs so that her breasts were level with my face. Her nipples were only inches away from her pussy covered by her panty and pajama which was also soaked with milk leaking from her nipples just above them. I wondered how much of the milk had leaked through and gotten inside her panty. Only half of the moist large dark brown nipple was visible, so I had to lift the milk-soaked blanket just enough so that her jutting areolas and nipples were completely unobstructed from view.
Her whole breast had a wet sheen from all the sweating and her nipples continued to leak droplets of milk. Bhabhi smelled strongly of a mixture of sweat and milk. It was unlike anything I had smelled before. It was intoxicating.
Then I tried to push the pump flange against bhabhi’s areolas. But I couldn’t get a good seal around them. I would have to take the part of her boobs around the nipples into my hands and then guide them into the flange. Then I looked up at bhabhi and she just nodded in agony, giving her approval.
I was able to get a proper seal and started pumping. Jet streams of milk violently started to flow from her nipples, accumulating in the funnel and down into the bottle. I kept at it until the bottle was half full, but the milk flow showed no signs of stopping.
While pumping, I wondered if bhaiya knew this would be part of the promise to take care of bhabhi?! Surely, he knew we couldn’t afford a caretaker yet, so he must have known, I convinced myself.
Then I looked up at her innocent tired face only to find that she had dozed off and was snoring ever so lightly. This was obviously a huge pressure relief for bhabhi. I felt really bad for her condition. I wondered why this had to happen to her, why God let this happen to someone so caring, motherly, and good-natured as her.
But these thoughts were broken by the sight of the other free glistening and leaking dark brown elongated nipple surrounded by large bumpy areolas that were easily 3 inches in diameter.
I was overcome with impure thoughts and guilt at the same time. My erect penis was telling me to bend down and take the free-leaking nipple into my mouth. But I resisted my dark thoughts. I couldn’t betray bhaiya and bhabhi’s trust in me. They had always treated me like I was their own child.
All I could do was shamefully stare until the milk flow finally stopped on her right breast and I had to move the pump to her left breast. But the bottle was already full, so I got another bottle. After a few minutes, every drop of milk from my sister-in-law’s huge boobs had been drained.
Then I detached the pump from her nipples and went to the kitchen to clean the pump and put the bottles of milk in the fridge. Just as I closed the fridge, I heard sounds coming from the living room. Bhabhi had woken up. I quickly headed toward bhabhi. She was still on the couch with a good part of her massive milk bags splayed out and uncovered by the blanket.
Following my gaze back to her bosom, she saw what I was looking at but didn’t react as I had not only already seen them while pumping, but also held them to attach them to the pump.
A few minutes later, she stood up, turned around so that I couldn’t see her front, and hoped her blue shirt would drop down on its own. But the shirt was still bunched up, showing no sign of dropping down. Instead, the blanket fell off and dropped to the ground. They were a sight to behold. Even from behind, I could see her massive dangling jugs, gently swaying from the sides of her back.
“Sonu, don’t just stand there! Help me!” said bhabhi in an annoyed frustrated tone.
Then I came back to my senses, walked up close behind her, and pulled her blue shirt all the way down. My fingers carelessly brushed past her nipples as I pulled her shirt down to cover them. She sat back down and although she regained her modesty, her nipples were still poking through the bottom quarter of the shirt. But by this time, bhabhi was too tired to notice. She rested on the sofa to catch her breath for a few minutes before speaking to me.
Bhabhi: Sorry Sonu, I didn’t realize I fell asleep. This whole ordeal has been really tiring for me, both physically and mentally. But you never made me feel uneasy or get mad at me when I lost my cool with you. I am sorry I doubted you earlier, I doubted us as a family being able to get through this. I am blessed to have you in my life.
These words from bhabhi meant a lot to me because honestly, seeing her in this indecent state and discovering how big her breasts really are, had filled me with extremely impure thoughts, some of which were telling me to do unholy things to my very own bhabhi, the bhabhi who looked after me like her own child. But hearing these words from her gave me confidence that I could suppress my thoughts. As long as they don’t manifest in actions, I would regret them later. It was ok, it would mean that I was still a good brother, I convinced myself.
Me: It is me who is the lucky one, bhabhi. Not everyone is blessed to have a bhabhi like you. (The moment I said that, I realized what I said could have been taken the wrong way. But I was relieved to see bhabhi didn’t take it that way or maybe she knew, but was just saving me from further embarrassing myself).
Bhabhi: I am tired now, Sonu. I need to go to my bedroom and sleep. It’s late. You should go get some rest as well.
Hearing that, I reached for her bra that I had taken off Bhabhi earlier and walked to her to put it back on her. I figured she would not want to sleep without a bra on as she was lactating.
Bhabhi: Not now Sonu, I can’t stand here and go through this all over again. I am too tired. I just want to sleep now.
After saying that, my brother’s wife started walking to her bedroom. Her dangling braless milk bags jiggled and swayed under her shirt with each step she took. I followed her in case she needed any assistance.
Walking behind her, I noticed how big bhabhi’s buttocks had become post-delivery, two large protruding ass cheeks jiggling wildly under the hospital-provided pajamas. It was almost cartoonish. Her massive boobs protruded in front, her ass protruding in the back, and they were both even more accentuated because of how her limp arms dangled on the sides of her body.
I thought to myself how lucky bhaiya was while he was here. Not only did he have a wife who was supportive and caring, but also with assets any man with a heartbeat would wish to see and play with at least once in their life. He had these to fondle and play with to his heart’s content whenever he wanted.
But would he be able to accept bhabhi in her partially disabled state when he returns? Would her disabled arms have any impact on their private bedroom activities when he returns? Would it diminish his love for her? I would soon come to find out that the answers to these questions were complicated, it wasn’t black or white, but those details, I will share in the next parts. I covered her with a quilt, gave her a good night kiss on her forehead, and closed the light.
As I was walking toward my bedroom, bhabhi’s bra on the sofa caught my eye. I could barely recognize myself anymore. This wasn’t something I would have even thought of doing before and yet, here I was, walking to my room with Bhabhi’s milk-soaked bra in my hand.
I deceived and convinced myself that it was harmless, that this in no way changed my love and respect for her and it doesn’t mean I would let any harm or discomfort come her way. In the end, all that matters was that I fulfilled my promise to bhaiya.
Then I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. But all I could see was the image of my bhabhi in her indecent state that I had witnessed earlier! Even after trying hard, I could not stop these images from coming or stop my penis from becoming rock-hard. I brought her bra next to my face, taking in the intoxicated smell of her milk and sweat-soaked bra with one hand while stoking my penis with the other.
The images of her milk jugs and big round butt fueled my strokes. Just as I was about to cum, I wrapped my penis in my sister-in-law’s bra and finished off. I nodded off shortly after that.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I heard bhabhi calling my name from her room. I hurried to her room to see what was troubling her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed when I got there.
She looked up at me and said, “Sorry Sonu, I need to use the toilet badly. I didn’t want to wake you, but I didn’t know what else to do”. She couldn’t make eye contact with me. She was clearly embarrassed. But had no option but to call for me.
In the next parts, I will narrate to the best of my recollection the other challenges we faced, routine things that we don’t even have to think about but become a challenge without the use of our arms. How it had an impact on us and changed us and how others waiting to take advantage of bhabhi’s disabled condition, became a part of this difficult and unusual time in our lives.
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