I had always known it was wrong, but that never stopped the way my cock got hard every time my younger sister Priya bent over in her tight salwar kameez. At twenty-eight she was still living at home, and at thirty I was back after my divorce, sharing the same Mumbai flat with our parents. One humid night when Mom and Dad were at a wedding in Pune, we were alone. She came out of the shower in a thin towel, water dripping down her dusky skin, nipples poking hard against the fabric.
"Fuck, bhaiya, stop staring," she said, but her voice had that teasing lilt she only used when we were alone.
I didn't stop. I walked right up, grabbed her by the waist, and yanked the towel off. Her full brown tits bounced free, dark nipples stiff. Her pussy was shaved smooth, already glistening. "You've been teasing me for years," I growled, pushing two fingers straight into her wet cunt. She was tight, hot, and soaked. Priya moaned and spread her legs wider on the spot.
"God, yes, finger-fuck your sister's desi pussy," she hissed, grinding down on my hand. I pumped her hard, thumb rubbing her swollen clit while my other hand squeezed her fat ass. She came fast, juices running down my wrist, legs shaking.
I pulled my cock out—thick, veiny, leaking precum—and slapped it against her stomach. "On your knees." She dropped immediately, taking me deep into her warm mouth, sucking like she had been waiting for this. Her tongue swirled around the head while she stroked the base with both hands. Spit ran down my balls. I held her head and fucked her throat until she gagged, eyes watering, mascara smearing.
When I couldn't take it anymore I hauled her up, bent her over the dining table, and slammed into her from behind. Her cunt gripped me like a fist, slick and burning hot. "Harder, bhaiya, wreck my pussy," she begged, pushing back to meet every thrust. The wet slapping sounds filled the flat. I reached around to rub her clit and she squirted, soaking my balls and the floor.
I flipped her onto her back on the table, legs over my shoulders, and pounded her deep. Her tits bounced with every stroke. I leaned down and sucked her nipples hard while my cock bottomed out in her. She clawed my back, moaning filthy Hindi mixed with English. "Meri chut phad do, bhai… fill your sister's cunt."
I lasted as long as I could, then buried myself to the hilt and unloaded, pumping thick ropes of cum straight into her pulsing pussy. It overflowed, dripping down her ass crack onto the table. We didn't stop there. She rode me on the sofa next, then I took her against the wall in the hallway, then again in the shower with hot water running over us while I fucked her standing up, one leg hooked over my arm.
By morning we were sore, covered in cum and sweat, but already planning how to sneak more when the parents returned. Her pussy stayed full of my load the whole night, and every time she walked past me she gave that same dirty little smile. We both knew this was only the beginning of our secret desi incest.
