In a cramped, dimly lit bathroom, Jitendra's wife, a hot Indian woman, finds solace in her own touch. She traces her curves, her fingers grazing her hard nipples, before moving south, parting her slick folds. She slips a finger in, then two, her eyes closed, lost in her own world. She picks up a small, discreet vibrator, pressing it against her clit. Her breath hitches, her pace quickens, and she comes undone, her body shuddering with release, her cries muffled by a fistful of clothes.