Adultery How Prasad impregnates his sister and sister's daughter (completed)

[LustyLeo]

Amazing one

[Arun_zuneh]

-28-

Man I am waiting for the last day of IIT entrance exam which Anu writing and the result day of the IIT exam. I think there was a chance of threesome between mom, daughter and prasad in IIT result days.

[Steven Rajaa]

Awesome

[Kama Kalaignan]

Awesome, make anu to be fucked by her dad first

[opendoor]

Amazing one

Man I am waiting for the last day of IIT entrance exam which Anu writing and the result day of the IIT exam. I think there was a chance of threesome between mom, daughter and prasad in IIT result days.

Awesome

Awesome, make anu to be fucked by her dad first

Thank you guys

[opendoor]

-29-

*** If you don't have courtesy to like/comment/rate my stories, don't read them please ***


Note to readers :

The actual story starts from here, to make it little bit interesting I am adding some melodrama and some new elements that will surprise you. I didn’t want to write the “make them pregnant” episodes in a routine way, so trying a different approach, hope it will be liked by you

Couple of months later…

(the story shifts to Saroja, Raj, Anu house in Hyderabad)

Prasad stood in front of the modest yet well-kept house, his heart racing. The quietness of the neighborhood was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions churning inside him. He took a deep breath, smoothed down his shirt, and approached the door. With trembling fingers, he pressed the bell. A moment later, it swung open to reveal Saroja, the woman who had given birth to the love of his life. She was an enigma, her beauty ageless, with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.



Saroja's body was a masterpiece of womanhood. Her curves, wrapped in a crimson sari that clung to her like a lover's embrace, were a testament to her undeniable allure. Her dark, penetrating eyes held a knowing glint, as if she could see through the very essence of a person. Her hands, adorned with intricate henna patterns, fluttered like a dance of fiery serpents, the deep reds glowing in the soft light of the evening. Prasad felt a peculiar warmth spread through him as he took in her beauty, a blend of the exotic and the familiar that was uniquely Saroja.

Her ass was a pair of perfectly sculpted mounds that seemed to defy gravity, swaying gently as she walked. The sari's thin fabric did little to hide the tantalizing outline of her voluptuous form. Each step she took made the fabric cling to her skin, revealing the tantalizing shadow of her crack. The way the material hugged her curves, it was as if the fabric had been painted onto her, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her waist was a delicate curve that accentuated her hips, a teasing promise of what lay beneath the layers of clothing.

Her boobs, the bouncing balls of temptation, were like two ripe mangoes ready to spill their sweet nectar. Each step she took caused them to jiggle ever so slightly, a mesmerizing dance that held Prasad captive. The deep neckline of her blouse barely contained them, the areolae peeking out like shy flowers from behind a leafy veil. Her protruding nipples stood erect, poking through the fabric with a brazen insistence that made his mouth go dry. They pointed straight at him, as if beckoning for his touch, his lips, his tongue to caress and taste their firmness.

Her lips, a shade of red that mirrored the sari, were full and inviting. They curved into a smile that seemed to whisper sweet nothings of temptation and promise. As she spoke, they moved with a grace that was both mesmerizing and sinful. Her voice was like a caress, wrapping itself around him and leaving a trail of goosebumps along his skin. "Welcome, Prasad," she purred, her words a symphony that played directly to his desires. "How was the journey ?"

Prasad stuttered out a greeting, his nerves betraying him. "It's... tiring .. long flight akka." He felt his cheeks flush at his own awkwardness, unsure of how to address the woman who had raised the girl who now had such a profound effect on his soul.

Saroja's smile grew more enchanting as she stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter the dimly lit living room. "You must be tired from your journey then," she cooed, her voice a siren's call that seemed to resonate in the very core of his being. "Please, come in and meet your bava (brother in law)."

The room was a blend of traditional and modern elements, the smell of incense mingling with the faint scent of leather from the well-worn sofa. Prasad's eyes fell upon the man seated on the chair, his posture rigid, his gaze as unyielding as steel. 



Raj was a man who had seen life and wasn't easily swayed by youthful charm or sweet talk. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed back, framing a face etched with lines that spoke of years of hard work and silent contemplation. His eyes, the same deep brown as Anu's, bore into Prasad, sizing him up, weighing him, measuring his worth. The years of experience in merchant navy is showing up in his stern looks

Raj's physique belied his age. Beneath the simple white shirt, one could discern the outline of muscles that had been honed by years of discipline and military training. His arms looked like they could crush a man with ease, and the veins that snaked down to his hands spoke of a strength that was both reassuring and intimidating. His shoulders were broad and square, and his chest was a wall that seemed impervious to any emotional blow. Prasad swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny like a mountain pressing down on him.

The room grew eerily silent as Saroja's laughter faded into the background, the only sound the ticking of a clock that seemed to echo the rhythm of Prasad's racing heart. Anu, who had been hovering in the corner, watching the scene unfold with a smug smile, took a step forward, breaking the tension. "Papa, please," she cooed, her voice a soft melody that seemed to soothe the beast in the room. "Prasad mama is here for us. For our future."

Raj's gaze didn't waver from Prasad's as Anu approached, the jingling of her anklets punctuating the silence. She was a vision in a salwar kameez that hugged her body in all the right places. The deep V-neck of her kameez showcased her ample cleavage, and the tightness of the fabric around her waist made her hips look like they were on fire. Prasad couldn't help but stare, his eyes tracing the curves of her body like they were a map to a hidden treasure.



Anu's boobs were like two firm, ripe melons, threatening to spill out of her blouse with every movement she made. They were the kind that men would sell their souls for, a perfect handful that begged to be squeezed and worshipped. Saroja's breasts, while still a sight to behold, had the maturity of experience, their fullness a symbol of the countless times they had been held and caressed. Yet, it was the youthful perkiness of Anu's that held a certain allure that was hard to ignore. Her nipples, pebble-hard and visible through the thin fabric, seemed to taunt him, a promise of the pleasures she kept locked away from him.

Her ass, on the other hand, was a testament to her young, supple body. It was as if the gods had taken an extra helping of flesh and sculpted it into two perfect, round globes that defied gravity. Each cheek was a masterpiece, firm yet yielding, the kind that one could bounce a coin off and watch it land with a delightful wobble. It was a size that was both surprising and mesmerizing for her age, a trait that set her apart from the other girls in college, leaving a trail of whispers and envy wherever she went. The way she carried herself, the sway of her hips, the way she sat with such poise, it was clear she knew the power she held in that asset, and she wielded it with the grace of a true queen.



The sight of Anu standing so intimately close to her father sent a shiver down Prasad's spine. Her hand on his shoulder was like a brand, a claim of ownership that was as subtle as it was unmistakable. He tried to ignore the rising tide of unease that flooded him, but it was like trying to hold back the sea with a single hand. The air in the room grew thick with a tension that was palpable, a silent battle of wills that played out between the three of them.

Saroja's gaze flitted from Prasad to her husband, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She seemed to be enjoying the silent dance of power that unfolded before her, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that spoke volumes about her own desires. The way she leaned against the wall, one hand on her hip, was a deliberate pose that drew attention to the curves of her body. Her breasts, though hidden by the layers of fabric, were a promise of the pleasures she could offer, a siren's call that made Prasad's mind wander.

"Yes," Prasad replied, his voice firm despite the turmoil within him. "Bava, I wish to marry your daughter. I trained her to get admission into IIT Delhi Computer Science, I will do anything to make her happy and provide for her."

Raj's expression darkened, and Saroja's eyes narrowed as she studied Prasad. The silence grew heavier, like a thick fog rolling in from the ocean of their secrets and desires. "Marriage is indeed a big step," Saroja finally said, her voice deceptively soft. "But Anu is no ordinary girl. She is a queen, and we expect her to be treated as such."

Prasad felt the weight of her words, understanding the unspoken challenge. He knew that to be a part of this family, he had to be more than just a loving husband; he had to be a king that could satisfy not just Anu, but the insatiable hunger that seemed to lurk within her very soul. The thought both terrified and excited him, a cocktail of emotions that sent his heart racing and his cock throbbing in his pants.

 

But as he looked into Anu's eyes, he saw the spark of love and lust that burned there for him. Her beauty was a force that could make any man drop to his knees in worship, and the fact that she had chosen him filled him with a sense of pride that was unmatched. He beamed at her, his love shining in his eyes like a beacon of hope in the stormy sea of doubt.

But what he didn't see was the exchange of glances between Anu's parents, Saroja and Raj. Their eyes met in a silent communication that held a dark secret, a shared understanding that spoke of the twisted games they played. The corner of Saroja's mouth quirked up into a knowing smile as she observed her daughter's power over his dear brother. Raj's gaze was more scrutinizing, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he could see right through Prasad's soul. The air grew thick with the unspoken tension, the silent dance of power that was about to unfold.

With a grace that seemed almost predatory, Anu led her father into the adjacent bedroom, their hushed whispers trailing behind them like a veil of secrets. Prasad, left alone in the living room, felt a mix of anticipation and dread. He sat on the edge of the sofa, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for clues to what was about to happen. The walls seemed to close in on him, the air growing heavier with every tick of the clock.

Akka’s knowing grin played in his mind, a siren's smile that promised both salvation and destruction. "Don't worry, Prasad," she had purred, her words wrapping around him like a warm blanket of assurance. Yet, the look in her eyes had been anything but comforting. It was a look that spoke of hidden depths, of a cunning mind that knew how to manipulate and control. And as he heard the low murmurs from the other room, he couldn't help but wonder if he was walking into a lion's den.

The whispers grew louder, and Prasad felt his heart race. He could make out Anu's voice, sweet and persuasive, intertwined with the deeper rumble of her father's. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, and he caught glimpses of akka’s sari fluttering as she moved closer to them. The shadows danced on the wall, hinting at movements that were both intimate and disturbing.

Anu's laughter tinkled through the room, a sound that was usually music to his ears but now filled him with a strange sense of foreboding. "Daddy," she cooed, "you know how much I care for him. Can't you see he's perfect for me?" Her words were honeyed, dripping with the sweetness of a promise. Prasad clenched his fists, willing himself not to barge in, not to ruin this delicate moment.

Raj's gruff voice was filled with a reluctant tenderness that Prasad had never heard before. "You always get your way, don't you, Anu?" There was a hint of resignation in his tone, as if he knew he couldn't win against the storm of her desires.

Anu giggled, a sound that was both innocent and wickedly knowing. "Of course, Daddy," she murmured, her voice a silky purr that seemed to wrap around her father's words, tightening them into a noose of her making. "But you know I only want what's best for us." Her hand slipped into her father's, their fingers entwining in a gesture that was both familial and disturbingly intimate.

Prasad's eyes grew wide as the noises grew more pronounced. The sound of fabric rustling, the soft slap of flesh on flesh, the muffled groans that grew increasingly intense. His mind raced with the possibilities, each one more shocking than the last. He felt his cock stiffen against his will, a traitor to his sense of propriety, as he was drawn into the sordid melody of their shared desire. He leaned closer to the crack in the door, his curiosity piqued despite the horror that began to gnaw at his gut.

Through the narrow opening, he caught a glimpse of Anu's bare shoulder, the fabric of her kameez slipped down to reveal the creamy expanse of her skin. Her hand was buried in her father's hair, her fingers digging into his scalp as he feasted upon her ample bosom. Saroja stood beside them, her sari unfurling like a crimson wave, her own hand disappearing beneath the waistline of her petticoat. The sight was like a punch to Prasad's chest, stealing his breath and leaving him reeling.

  

Their voices grew louder, more insistent, the words a blend of love and lust that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the house. "Aahh, Paappa... please, fuck me," Anu's voice was a siren's call, a symphony of passion that seemed to echo through Prasad's very soul. The sound of flesh meeting flesh grew more rhythmic, punctuated by her gasps and moans. His eyes were glued to the small sliver of the room he could see, his mind reeling with the depravity that unfolded before him.

It seemed to Prasad as if Anu's cunt was being licked by her dad, the sounds of pleasure escaping her lips like sweet nectar. The thought of it made his cock throb painfully, his own desire warring with the horror that churned in his stomach. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and arousal. Saroja's hand had disappeared between her own legs, her hips rocking in silent ecstasy as she watched her husband pleasure their daughter.

The bed groaned in time with Anu's cries, the headboard slamming against the wall in a staccato beat that echoed through the house. Each moan was a symphony of passion that seemed to shake the very foundation of Prasad's beliefs. He felt his own cock strain against the fabric of his pants, his body responding despite the tumult of emotions that raged within him. The scene was like a painting of debauchery come to life, each stroke of color more vivid and disturbing than the last.

Anu's body arched, her back bowed like a drawn bow, as her father's tongue worked its magic on her clit. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, her nails digging into his scalp, urging him on with silent, desperate pleas. The sight of her, writhing in ecstasy, was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her legs were spread wide, the dark mound of her sex glistening with wetness, a stark contrast against the pale skin of her thighs.

Her screams grew more intense, the sound echoing through the house like a wild beast claiming its territory. The bed beneath them was a battleground of passion, the sheets a rumpled mess that spoke of the fierce love they shared. Prasad's hand moved to his own cock, stroking it through his pants as he watched the obscene spectacle. The fabric was wet with his precum, a testament to the dark thrill that coursed through him.

Raj's dick was a monster, a thick, veiny shaft that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Prasad had never seen anything so large, so powerful, so terrifyingly beautiful. It was a weapon that could conquer worlds, a tool of pleasure that could bring even the strongest of men to their knees. And as it slammed into Anu's tight, young cunt, it was clear that she was no match for its brutal strength.

Yet, she took it with a grace that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Her body arched, her back bowing like a drawn bow, as she accepted him inch by inch. Her moans grew louder, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure and pain that seemed to resonate in Prasad's very soul. Each time her father's cock retreated, it was like watching a serpent withdraw from its prey, only to strike again with renewed vigor.

Anu's eyes remained tightly shut, her face a mask of ecstasy that seemed to both invite and repel Prasad's gaze. Her hand clamped over her crotch, careful to keep it hidden from view. It was a silent command, a declaration that this was a sacred act, one that she would not share with her lover's eyes. Prasad's own hand stilled, his mind reeling from the sight before him. He knew that he should look away, that he should leave, but he was transfixed, his body betraying him with each pulse of his cock.

The sounds grew more primal, the rhythm of their love making a symphony of lust that seemed to resonate through the very air. Prasad's heart hammered in his chest, his breathing shallow and erratic. Each slap of flesh on flesh was a siren's call that drew him closer, each guttural moan a beacon of depravity that he couldn't resist. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, a musky scent that was both intoxicating and nauseating.

He felt like an intruder, a voyeur to a scene that was meant to be sacred, yet his feet remained rooted to the spot. His hand hovered over the doorknob, the urge to push it open and join them a seductive whisper in the back of his mind. Yet, fear and disgust held him back, a battle raging within him like a tempest at sea. He was torn between the love he felt for Anu and the horror of what he was witnessing.

Saroja's voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, a beacon of normalcy in the chaos. She watched him from her position on the sofa, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "It seems your future wife is quite the persuader," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took a sip of her tea. The calmness in her tone was a stark contrast to the cacophony of sounds coming from the bedroom. It was as if she were watching a mundane TV show rather than the depraved act unfolding just a few feet away.

Prasad's mind raced, trying to process the raw, primal sounds of pleasure that filled the house. He knew he should be repulsed, but there was a part of him that was inexplicably aroused by the cries and gasps. The conflict within him grew stronger with every passing second, his thoughts a tumultuous storm of embarrassment and excitement. He felt his cheeks burn with a mix of shame and arousal, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. The sounds of Anu's lovemaking with her father were like a siren's call, beckoning him closer, whispering sweet nothings of depravity into his ear.

The jealousy that surged through him was a living thing, a serpent coiling around his heart, squeezing tight. He felt like an intruder, witnessing a sacred act that was not meant for his eyes. Yet, the fascination grew, a dark bloom in the garden of his mind, curiosity blossoming into something more sinister. What was it about this taboo union that held him captive, that made his body respond with such fervor? He had never felt this way before, never craved something so wrong, so forbidden.



The rhythmic thumping grew faster, more insistent, and with it, Anu's moans grew louder. Prasad's hand, which had been hovering over the doorknob, clenched into a fist, his knuckles white with the effort of not giving in to the urge to barge in and claim what he believed was his. But he was not the only one watching. Saroja's eyes gleamed with a knowing look as she took another sip of tea, her posture relaxed yet predatory. She was enjoying this, watching him squirm, watching the battle between his morals and his desires play out like a dance.

In his mind's eye, he could see Anu's lithe body arching under the weight of her father's thrusts, her breasts bouncing with each powerful stroke. Her face was a mask of pleasure, the kind that came from a place so deep it was almost painful. The sight of her, lost in a sea of ecstasy, was like a drug, addictive and destructive. Prasad's cock throbbed in his pants, a traitor to his conscience. He felt his resolve slipping away, piece by piece, like sand through an hourglass.



The silence that followed was deafening, a stark contrast to the symphony of passion that had just played out. Prasad's ears strained, hoping to catch any sound that would give him a clue to what was happening in the bedroom. The house felt like a tomb, the walls whispering secrets that he wasn't meant to hear. Yet, he couldn't ignore the feeling of being a cog in a machine that was grinding him down to dust. The air was thick with the scent of sex, a heady aroma that seemed to cling to him like a second skin.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, his body a battleground of emotions. The fabric of his pants was damp with his own lust, his cock still painfully erect despite the horror that had unfolded before his eyes. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, trying to reconcile the woman he loved with the creature he had just watched. The image of Anu's father's cock, so thick and powerful, was seared into his retina, a haunting specter that taunted him with every beat of his heart.

Akka’s laughter still echoed in his ears, a mocking reminder of his impotence. He had been played, a pawn in a game he hadn't even known he was a part of. The house felt like a prison, the walls closing in on him, whispering of the sins that had just been committed. He felt like a trespasser in his own life, a voyeur in the most intimate moments of the woman he had pledged to marry.



The sudden sound of the front door breaking the silence jolted Prasad back to reality. He spun around, his heart racing, expecting to see Anu and her father emerge from the bedroom. But instead, he saw akka, her seductive smile still in place, leading a young electrician into the house. The man was tall, with a lean build and a tool belt slung low on his hips, his muscles flexing with each step he took. The way akka’s eyes lingered on his form made Prasad's stomach drop.

Her gaze never left the electrician's body as she whispered something in his ear, her hand lingering on his arm. The young man's eyes grew wide with excitement, his pupils dilating as he followed her into the kitchen. The sight was like a dagger to Prasad's heart, a stark reminder of the web of deceit he had stumbled into. He watched as akka’s sari clung to her curves, the fabric moving with a life of its own as she sailed through the room, a seductress navigating the waters of temptation.

The bedroom door remained open, a silent invitation to the depravity that lay within. But as Saroja passed, she flicked her wrist with the grace of a conductor, the door swinging shut with a soft click. The sound was like a gunshot in the tense silence, a declaration that their sordid secret was safe from prying eyes. Prasad's breath caught in his throat, his eyes glued to the now-closed door. The electrician, blissfully unaware of the carnival of lust that had been playing out just moments before, followed her into the kitchen, his eyes glancing over the room with a professional curiosity.

[Kama Kalaignan]

Awesome superb, daddy gave his wife to brother, so he takes his daughter during his short time visit, dad daughter love superb!
make all 4 in same bed for ending, or continue this for long.

[Kama Kalaignan]

or a more erotic turn of Saroja having handjob blowjob threesome then maybe dp with electrician and brother, description of Saroja during last chapter start was very nice! buildup for herione, all that build up of beauty should be enjoyed, so sure a episode with electician/other along with brother.

[opendoor]

Saroja

[opendoor]

Anu

[opendoor]

Awesome superb, daddy gave his wife to brother, so he takes his daughter during his short time visit, dad daughter love superb!
make all 4 in same bed for ending, or continue this for long.

or a more erotic turn of Saroja having handjob blowjob threesome then maybe dp with electrician and brother, description of Saroja during last chapter start was very nice! buildup for herione, all that build up of beauty should be enjoyed, so sure a episode with electician/other along with brother.

Thanks a lot bro for your comments. i dont want to reveal anything now that would be a spoiler. please read and enjoy the drama as it unfolds

[opendoor]

-30-

*** Don't forget to like/comment/rate the story ***





Akka’s hips swayed with a seductive rhythm, her sari whispering sweet nothings of temptation with every step. Prasad felt his anger and confusion swirl into a tornado of emotion, threatening to rip apart the very fabric of his being. He knew he should leave, that he had seen enough, but his body was rooted to the spot, his cock still achingly hard in his pants. The electrician's hand brushed against Saroja's waist as they passed, a casual gesture that spoke of familiarity and desire.

The kitchen door swung closed with a finality that echoed through the house, leaving Prasad alone with his thoughts. His mind was a kaleidoscope of images, each more shocking than the last. Anu's face, twisted in ecstasy, her father's powerful strokes, akka’s knowing smile. It was a montage of depravity that played on repeat, each scene more vivid than the last. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, the pain a welcome distraction from the tumult in his mind.

The muffled sounds from akka’s room grew more pronounced, the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh like a heartbeat that seemed to pulse through the walls. It was a symphony of lust that seemed to taunt him, whispering of the pleasures he was being denied. Yet, as the noises grew more intense, so did the ones coming from Anu's room. The creaking of the bed was unmistakable, and it sent a shiver down Prasad's spine that was both thrilling and terrifying.

 

He found himself torn between the two, his desire to be with Anu warring with the dark curiosity that akka had ignited. He knew that he should leave, that he should not be privy to this depraved dance, but his feet remained planted on the floor, his body betraying him with every beat of his racing heart. The house was alive with the sounds of their passion, a testament to the power they held over the men in their lives.

The moans grew louder, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to fill every corner of the house. Prasad felt his own desire swell with every slap of flesh and whimper of ecstasy. It was a sound that both repulsed and enthralled him, a siren's song that whispered of the dark delights that lay within. He could feel his own cock straining against the confines of his pants, demanding release, demanding that he claim his place in this twisted tableau.

 

Yet, even as the sounds grew more intense, the voice of reason called out to him, a beacon of sanity in the storm of lust that raged around him. He knew that he should leave, that he should not be a part of this, but his body would not obey. Instead, he found himself drawn closer to the door, his hand reaching out to push it open, to bear witness to the carnival of depravity that had overtaken the woman he loved.

But as his hand hovered over the knob, something within him rebelled. He couldn't do it, couldn't subject himself to the horror of watching Anu with another man, not even her own father. He took a step back, his chest heaving with the effort to regain control. The house felt like it was closing in on him, the walls whispering dark secrets that he wasn't meant to hear. His heart hammered in his chest, the thud of each beat echoing the rhythm of the sordid acts that played out just beyond his line of sight.

Prasad's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, for anything to break the spell that had been cast over him. The sight of the open bedroom door was like a beacon of temptation, a gateway to the forbidden that called out to his basest instincts. Yet, even as his cock throbbed in his pants, his mind rebelled. He was better than this, wasn't he? He was not a mere puppet to be played by the twisted desires of the girl he loved.

He didn't know how long he sat there, his mind a whirlwind of emotions that ricocheted through him like a pinball machine. Each thought collided with the next, leaving a trail of sparks that ignited a bonfire of confusion and need. The sounds from the bedroom grew more intense, a crescendo of passion that seemed to build and build, reaching a fever pitch that made his blood boil. Anu's cries grew louder, more urgent, and Prasad couldn't help but wonder if she was calling out for him, if she felt the same tornado of desire that he did.

The memories of their early days flooded back to him, a time when he had been so eager to share everything with her. He remembered the night he had stumbled upon a particularly steamy porn video, one that featured a young, beautiful woman with a body like Anu's. He had been so sure she would be intrigued, that it would be the spark that ignited the flame of their love life. The excitement had been palpable, his cock swollen with anticipation as he downloaded the clip onto his phone.

 

He had approached her tentatively, the phone trembling in his hand as he offered it to her, his heart racing with excitement. But Anu had looked at him with a coldness that had chilled him to the bone, her eyes narrowing in disdain as she took the device. She had watched the video with a bored expression, her eyes never leaving the screen as he fumbled for words to explain himself. "Is this what you want?" she had asked, her voice devoid of warmth. "Is this what you think we need?"

The memory of her disgust was like a slap in the face, bringing him back to the present with a jolt. The sounds from the bedroom grew more distant, the haze of lust momentarily lifted. He saw Anu as she had been that night, dressed in her modest salwar kameez, her eyes filled with accusation. "You don't know me," she had told him, her voice shaking with emotion. "You don't know what I want, what I need."

And now, as he sat in the living room of her family's house, surrounded by the evidence of her depravity, he realized just how right she had been. He didn't know her at all. She had painted a picture of purity and cultural upbringing, a façade that had blinded him to the truth. Each time she had refused his advances, each lecture on purity and virtue, had been a lie, a ploy to keep him in the dark. The girl he had fallen for was a myth, a construct built on deceit and manipulation.

The anger grew inside him, a wildfire that threatened to consume him whole. He had been a fool, a pawn in her twisted game of power and control. He had thought she was an innocent; a delicate blossom waiting for the right man to come along and cherish her. But she was a queen, a seductress who took her pleasure where she willed it, leaving a trail of broken hearts and shattered morals in her wake.

The words she had spoken to him replayed in his mind like a broken record. "I am a pure girl, mama," she had said, her voice stern and unyielding. "I have never had any interest in such vulgar things. I conduct myself with dignity and respect. I expect the same from you." The memory of her standing there, dressed in her virginal white salwar kameez, was a slap in the face. How could he have been so naive?



Her rejection of his sexual advances had stung, leaving him feeling like a rutting animal, denied its mate. But now, as he sat in the living room, surrounded by the evidence of her depravity, he understood. She had never been pure, never been the innocent creature he had idealized. She had been playing him, using her cultural upbringing as a shield to protect her own perverted desires. Each time she had denied him, it had been a test of his loyalty, a way to ensure his devotion.

Prasad felt the anger simmering in his gut, a potent brew of betrayal and disgust. The Anu he knew was a lie, a façade constructed to keep him in line, to prevent him from questioning her actions. Her talk of purity and respect had been a weapon, wielded with precision to control him, to keep him from seeing the truth. He had been nothing more than a pawn in her game, a toy to be used and discarded at her whim.



The bedroom door creaked open, and he tensed, expecting to see Anu and her father emerge, but it was only akka. She sailed into the room, her sari clinging to her sweat-slicked body, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "Ah, Prasad," she said, her voice a silky purr. "You seem lost in thought." The way she said his name was like a caress, a seductive promise of what was to come.

He stood, his legs unsteady, his mind racing with what he had just witnessed. The electrician was gone, his job done, leaving behind an empty space where moments of passion had unfolded. The house felt eerily quiet, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath in anticipation of what was to come. Saroja's smile grew wider, her eyes never leaving his. She knew, she had to have known he had heard, had seen. The silence was a game she was playing, a dance of power and control.

Then, as if on cue, the door to Anu's bedroom creaked open, and she emerged. The sight of her was like a punch to the gut, a vision that knocked the wind out of him. Her salwar kameez was a dishevelled mess, the once pristine fabric stained with sweat and a darker, more primal fluid. Her hair was wild, a tangled mess that fell around her flushed face, her eyes gleaming with a hunger that was unmistakable. The way she looked at him, so confident, so self-assured, was a stark contrast to the shy, innocent girl he had once known.



Her face was a canvas of pleasure, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from the use they had been put to. Her neck was a roadmap of hickeys and kisses, a testament to the fervent passion that had just occurred. And her cleavage, oh, her cleavage. It was a glorious mess, glistening with the evidence of her recent indulgence, a sight that made Prasad's knees tremble. The smirk on her face grew wider as she approached, her hips swaying in a way that was both mesmerizing and terrifying.


Anu's hair, usually so neatly tied back in a bun, now fell in a mess of dark waves around her shoulders, framing her face like a wild halo. Each strand was coated with a fine sheen of sweat, and Prasad couldn't help but imagine the sticky embrace of her father's cum that clung to it. She moved with the grace of a panther, a creature of the night who had just feasted on its prey. Her eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air. Did he know? Could he see what she had done?

Her skin was flushed, her cheeks a rosy hue that spoke of the exertion she had just endured. The salwar kameez she wore was a sham, a mockery of the innocence she had once projected. It clung to her in a way that was almost obscene, revealing the swells of her breasts and the shadowed valley between them. Prasad's gaze was drawn to her cleavage, a visual feast that was both tempting and repulsive. There, nestled between her breasts, was a glistening pool of cum, a stark white against her darkened skin. It was like a macabre necklace, a twisted adornment that marked her as both a harlot and a queen.

The sight of her half-covered in the aftermath of her incestuous act was like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the truth he had tried so hard to ignore. The room felt like it was spinning, the walls closing in around him as he tried to reconcile the Anu he had known with the woman who now stood before him. Yet, even as his stomach churned with revulsion, his cock throbbed with an unwelcome hunger. The scent of sex was a pheromone in the air, a siren's call that beckoned him closer despite his horror.



"You're a good boy, Prasad," Saroja purred, her voice husky and satisfied. "I like that about you. You're willing to learn, to adapt." Her eyes swept over him, a knowing look that seemed to see straight through to his soul. He felt naked under her gaze, exposed and vulnerable. He knew that she had seen his erection, knew that she was aware of the effect her words had on him. The power she wielded was intoxicating, a dark magic that he found himself both repulsed by and drawn to.

"But Anu," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "What about her?" akka’s smile grew even more predatory, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. "Ah, my daughter," she said, her tone a mix of pride and something more primal. "She is a girl of many tastes. And she has chosen you, for now. But remember, Prasad, she is a queen. You are but a subject, here to serve her will."

The implications of her words hit him like a sledgehammer. Anu had chosen him, but only as a pawn in her twisted game. Her "purity" was nothing but a façade, a mask she donned to manipulate those around her. The thought of being used, of being one of many to satisfy her cravings, filled him with a rage so potent it was almost blinding. Yet, as he looked into her eyes, all he saw was hunger, a hunger that seemed to grow with each passing second.

 

Her expression grew irritated, her perfect eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at him, her lip curling in annoyance. "Don't you know what I'm doing?" she snapped, her voice a whip that cut through the silence. "I'm convincing my dad to accept you, to let you marry me." Prasad felt his heart plummet to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. He had been so consumed by his own desires, his own need to be with her, that he had missed the reality of the situation.

He took a step back, his hand reaching up to rub his neck, trying to ease the tension that had coiled there like a serpent. "I didn't know," he murmured, the words feeling like ash in his mouth. "I'm sorry." But it was too little, too late. Anu was a storm, her eyes flashing with a fury that made him want to run and hide.

"You didn't know?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. "You sit there, playing the innocent, while I've been whoring myself out for your sake. And you dare to look at me with those sad puppy eyes?" Her words were a slap in the face, a cold reality check that made him stumble back. The walls of the house seemed to close in on him, the very air thick with the scent of deceit and lust.

"He isn't agreeing to our marriage," she continued, her voice rising with each word, "but I've been going through so much for you. So much trouble, and you act as if you don't care. You think I'm just enjoying this?" Each sentence was a knife twisting in Prasad's gut, a reminder of his own ignorance. He had been so focused on his own desires that he had missed the gravity of the situation, the sacrifices she had made to ensure their union.

Guilt swamped him, a noxious cocktail of regret and self-loathing that choked him. "I'm sorry, Anu. I just didn't expect" He trailed off, not knowing what to say. Expect? How could he have expected this? The very thought of her with her father was a violation of every moral fiber in his body. Yet, she had done it for him. For love. Or so she claimed.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, the scent of her arousal mingling with the sweet, cloying scent of their love-making. "You didn't expect what, mama?" she interrupted, her voice sharp as a knife. "You think I'm doing this because I enjoy it?" Each word was a bullet, piercing through his soul, leaving a trail of doubt in its wake.

He looked at her, his heart racing. The love he felt for her was a tempest, a storm that had been building for years, fuelled by her refusals and the sweetness of their rare moments of intimacy. Yet now, in the face of her accusations, he felt lost, adrift in a sea of confusion. "I didn't know," he managed to murmur, his voice barely audible. "I just didn't know."

Anu's eyes softened, the anger momentarily giving way to a flicker of sadness. "You're a fool," she said, her voice quieter now, almost tender. "But I love you anyway." And with that, she turned and strode back to her room, leaving Prasad standing in the hallway, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He was the fool, the one who had been blind to the reality that had been playing out right in front of him.

The walls of the house seemed to pulse with the aftermath of their encounter, the very air thick with the scent of sex and secrets. Prasad felt a strange mix of emotions, his love for Anu warring with the disgust and confusion that threatened to overwhelm him. Yet, as he watched her retreating figure, all he felt was a fierce determination to be there for her, to support her in whatever twisted path she had chosen.

"Anu, I understand," he called out, his voice filled with newfound resolve. "I didn't realize the extent of what you were going through. I'm here for you, and I support you. Whatever it takes, I'm with you." His words echoed through the corridor, a declaration of love and loyalty that was both heartfelt and desperate. He had to believe that together, they could navigate this minefield of deception and emerge unscathed.

Her eyes searched his, looking for the truth in his words. The silence between them was deafening, a symphony of doubt and hope that played out in the space of a heartbeat. Then, she nodded, a single, curt movement that seemed to hold the weight of the world. "Good," she said, her voice firm. "Because I need you to be strong, mama. Stronger than you've ever been before."

He took a deep breath, trying to still the tumult of emotions that raged within him. "I will," he promised, his voice steady despite the tremble in his hands. "I love you, Anu. More than anything." Yet even as he said the words, he knew they were not enough. Love was not a currency that could be measured in simple terms of more or less. It was a force that ebbed and flowed, a river that carved its path through the landscape of their lives.

Her gaze softened, and she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek. Her skin was warm, her touch gentle, a stark contrast to the feral hunger he had witnessed earlier. "Then you'll do anything for me," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Anything it takes to keep me happy." The words sent a shiver down his spine, a mix of excitement and dread that coiled in his stomach like a snake.

He nodded, unable to find the voice to speak. Anu leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a feather-light kiss that seemed to seal the deal. Her mouth tasted faintly of another man, a bitter tang that made his cock jerk in his pants despite his horror. "Good," she murmured against his mouth. "Because we have a long road ahead of us."


Her expression softened slightly, but her eyes remained firm, like a rock in a stormy sea. "Then understand this, mama," she said, her voice a gentle command. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to make my dad see that we are meant to be together. I am not just doing this for me; I am doing this for us." The words hung in the air, a declaration that resonated through him, both warming his heart and filling him with dread.

He nodded, feeling a strange mix of love and fear. "I'm with you Anu," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Whatever it takes." And in that moment, he meant it with every fibre of his being. He would stand by her, no matter what it cost him, no matter what he had to endure. Anu's smile grew, a warmth that seemed to light up the dark corners of the room.

"That's my good boy," she purred, leaning down to kiss him gently on the lips. Her breath was sweet, the taste of their shared passion still lingering. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, her touch tender and loving. It was a stark contrast to the coldness she had shown earlier, a gentle reminder of the woman he had fallen for amidst the chaos of their twisted reality.

He nodded, his heart racing with a mix of fear and determination. "What is it you need me to do?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of hesitation, any sign that he was not fully committed to her cause.

Anu took a deep breath, her hand still on his cheek, her eyes never leaving his. "You need to be patient," she said, her voice a gentle caress. "You need to understand that this is not easy for me. I am fighting a battle that you cannot even begin to comprehend." She stepped back, straightening her salwar kameez, the fabric clinging to her body in a way that made his mouth go dry.

Her eyes filled with tears, a silent plea for his understanding. "Please, mama," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I need you to trust me, to support me. No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, you have to believe that I'm doing this for us." The tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks in silent rivers that gleamed in the soft light of the room.

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingertips dancing over the fabric of his shirt. She stepped closer, pressing her body against his, her breasts pushing against his chest in a silent invitation. His cock grew hard, a traitorous response to her seduction. He wanted to push her away, to demand answers, but instead, he found himself leaning into her, his mouth watering at the thought of her taste.




"Lick it off," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. "Prove your love for me." Her words were a command, a seductive challenge that made his blood race. His gaze dropped to her cleavage, the sticky mess of cum glinting in the low light of the hallway. He knew what she was asking, knew that it was wrong on every conceivable level. But the hunger within him was too great, too primal to resist.

With trembling hands, Prasad bent his head, his tongue darting out to taste the forbidden nectar. It was bitter, a salty tang that filled his mouth and made him want to gag. Yet, as he licked away the evidence of her betrayal, he found himself growing harder, his body responding to the dark thrill of her power over him. He felt like a beast, debasing himself for a scrap of her affection. Yet, the warmth of her skin, the sweetness beneath the bitter, kept him going.

Anu's eyes never left his, a silent communication of need and control. She watched him, a queen watching her servant, as he cleaned her body. Each stroke of his tongue was a declaration of his love, a surrender to her will. The taste of her father's cum was a reminder of his own impotence, a stark contrast to the power he had once felt when he thought she was his alone.

The moan grew louder, her breath hitching in her throat. Her hand found its way into his hair, gripping tightly as she pushed him closer, urging him to clean away the evidence of her betrayal. Prasad's mind swirled with confusion, his body responding to her touch despite the horror that filled his heart. He was lost in a sea of lust and anger, torn between his love for her and the disgust he felt for what she had become.

Yet as he continued to lick and kiss away the sticky residue of her father's lust, he found a strange comfort in the act. It was a declaration of his love, a willingness to submit to her desires, no matter how twisted they may be. Each swipe of his tongue was a promise to stand by her, to be the man she needed, regardless of the cost to his own soul.

When they finally pulled away, Anu looked at him with tear-filled eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, mama," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "That was perfect. You have no idea how much this means to me." The vulnerability in her gaze was almost too much to bear, a stark contrast to the dominance she had exuded moments before.

The sudden sound of her father's voice, bellowing "Anu?" from the living room, brought them back to reality with a jolt. They both stiffened, the spell of their intimate moment shattered by the intrusion. The tension in the air was palpable as they realized the precarious situation they were in, the secret they shared now a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

 *** Don't forget to like/comment/rate the story ***

[Kama Kalaignan]

Interesting hot story, but men licking other man am not a fan, but the story flow is good. love the dad daughter love/sex.

[opendoor]

Saroja

[opendoor]

Anu

[opendoor]

Interesting hot story, but men licking other man am not a fan, but the story flow is good. love the dad daughter love/sex.

Thank you KK...but that's just a symbolic gesture of mama to show his love on Anu

[123@abc]

Just amazing beautiful and raunchy too hot to relax during reading the updates
Please continue your good work
Waiting for more

[Johnnythedevil]

Super

[opendoor]

-31-

*** If you like the story click on Like button ***

They turned as one to face the doorway, where Raj, Anu's father, stood with an unmistakable aura of power. His eyes were narrowed, scrutinizing them with a gaze that could strip the paint off the walls. Prasad's heart hammered in his chest as he took in the sight of Raj. The military man's Lenin shorts were tented with a semi-erect state, the wetness in the crotch area a blatant giveaway of his recent activity. The half of his dick hung out, the round, pink knob proudly on display, a stark contrast to the stern look on his face.



Anu, ever the master of manipulation, took a step back, placing a hand delicately over her mouth as if to feign surprise. "Oh, Papa," she said, her voice a sugary sweet symphony of innocence. "We were just talking about how much I care for mama." A sly smile played on her lips, the same smile that had once made Prasad's heart flutter with hope.



Raj's eyes never left Prasad's, a silent challenge that made him want to shrink away. But he stood tall, his jaw clenched and his eyes meeting the older man's unflinchingly. "I love Anu," he said, his voice strong and sure. "And I will do anything to make her happy." It was the truth, a declaration that seemed to resonate with something deep within the beast of a man that was Anu's father.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside. Then, Raj's stern features softened, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Good," he said, his voice a gruff rumble. "Because she deserves nothing less." Prasad felt a strange mix of relief and dread. He knew that his love for Anu was not the same as the twisted affection her father felt for her, but in that moment, it seemed like enough.

Raj turned and strode away, leaving Prasad and Anu alone in the hallway. The tension that had filled the air dissipated, leaving behind a thick silence that seemed to cling to them like a second skin. Anu's eyes searched his, a silent question that seemed to hold the weight of the world.

Slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Thank you mama," she murmured, her breath a warm caress. "That was perfect." A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of her voice, a sweetness that seemed almost alien in the aftermath of their confrontation.

"Now," she continued, her hand sliding down to cup his jaw, "it's time to win your place in this family." She turned her gaze to her father, who had settled into an armchair across the room, watching them with a knowing smile. "Papa, mama loves me so much," she said, her voice a siren's call. "He's always been so attentive, so caring. And I know he'll make me happy."

Her hand drifted down to her father's thigh, her fingers tracing the outline of his half-exposed member with a familiarity that made Prasad's stomach turn. It was a silent declaration of her power, a show of the control she wielded over the man who had sired her. As she spoke, her eyes never left Prasad's, a silent challenge that made his blood boil.

    

Raj's eyes followed her hand with a hunger that was almost feral, his own hands moving to cup her breasts with a gentle yet possessive touch. Anu gasped softly, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before opening to meet Prasad's once more. It was as if she was daring him to look away, to reject her for the whore she had become. Yet, even as his mind rebelled, his body responded to the eroticism of the scene playing out before him.



Prasad felt his cock harden in his pants, the blood rushing to his groin in a betrayal of his moral compass. His eyes were wide with shock, his heart racing like a wild stallion. Yet, there was something else in those dark pools of emotion, something that went beyond the simple arousal that the sight of his lover with her father invoked. It was a realization, a stark understanding that this was the world Anu inhabited, and now, by extension, so did he.

Raj's expression grew serious, his eyes narrowing as he considered his daughter's words. "Anu," he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, "I am not yet convinced. Prasad mama seems to have a feeble mind. He might change as soon as he sees another woman, bringing you and our family disgrace." His words were a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down before the young man who dared to love his daughter.

Anu's gaze never wavered, her hand still resting on her father's thigh. She leaned in, her voice a seductive purr that seemed to wrap around Prasad's heart. "But Papa," she said, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, "isn't that what you do? And yet, you always come back to me, don't you?" She knew she was pushing the boundaries, but the thrill of the dance was intoxicating, a heady mix of power and pleasure that fuelled her every move.

Raj's eyes flicked to hers, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "You are a clever girl," he said, his voice gruff. "But I need to be sure that he truly understands what it means to be with you." He nodded towards the open door of Anu's bedroom. "Go on, then. Show him again."

With a smile that was both sweet and wicked, Anu took her father's hand and led him into the dimly lit sanctum of her room. Prasad remained rooted to the spot, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the tableau that unfolded before him. The room was a mess of discarded clothes, the bed rumpled with the evidence of their earlier tryst. Yet, amidst the chaos, there was an undeniable elegance to the scene, a dance of power and desire that was as mesmerizing as it was disturbing.

The door remained open, a silent invitation for Prasad to watch, to bear witness to the dark secrets of their twisted love. He felt his cock throb with a mix of revulsion and excitement as Anu straddled her father, her eyes never leaving Prasad's. Her movements were deliberate, a performance for his benefit, each roll of her hips a silent declaration of her dominance.

Raj's hands were rough as they moved to her breasts, kneading them through the flimsy material of her blouse. The sound of her soft moan filled the room, a siren's call that seemed to echo in Prasad's very soul. Her head fell back, her long hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of darkness, as she ground herself against her father's thickening erection.

The sight of their union was a blend of beauty and depravity, a dance of power and submission that was as ancient as it was forbidden. Anu's hips moved with the grace of a seasoned seductress, her eyes never leaving Prasad's as she worked her father's cock to full hardness. Each gasp, each whimper, was a silent demand that Prasad accept her for what she was, that he embraces the darkness that now lay between them.

Her mouth took the full length of her father's cock, deep-throating him with a skill that spoke of countless hours of practice. It was a performance that was both mesmerizing and terrifying, a display of oral mastery that was as much an act of love as it was a declaration of war. Prasad watched, his body torn between the urge to flee and the need to stay, to claim his place in this twisted world.

 

Raj's hands gripped Anu's head, guiding her movements with a brutal force that seemed to fuel her passion. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body writhing with pleasure as she took her father's cock in and out of her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with each suck. The room was filled with the wet sounds of her saliva and the occasional gag, a symphony of depravity that seemed to pulse through Prasad's very being.

As Anu's mouth worked over her father's shaft, Raj reached down and spread her legs apart, his eyes never leaving Prasad's as he did so. His tongue darted out, a serpent tasting the air, before he lowered his head to her sex. The sight of him licking his daughter with such hunger was almost too much for Prasad to bear, his mind reeling with the realization that he was not only witness to, but a participant in, their twisted game.

Anu's moans grew louder, her body arching back as her father's tongue delved into the wet, hot depths of her pussy. Her hands gripped the bed sheets, her knuckles white with the intensity of her pleasure. Each lick, each suck, was a silent declaration of her love, a performance for Prasad that was as much a declaration of war as it was a declaration of love.

Prasad's eyes were glued to the sight of her breasts bouncing with each movement, the dark areolae and pert nipples peeking out from the confines of her blouse. The fabric was damp with her excitement, the evidence of her desire laid bare for him to see. Yet, she was careful to keep her lower body hidden from his view, a silent reminder that she was still the queen, that she would dictate the terms of their union.

As Anu's movements grew more frantic, her moans grew louder, echoing through the room like a call to the gods. Her father's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust upwards into her, his own need for release apparent. And through it all, her eyes remained locked on Prasad's, a silent challenge that seemed to say, 'You can look, but you can never touch.' The bed beneath them protested with a symphony of squeaks and groans, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady, rhythmic beat that was as much a part of their twisted love as the slap of flesh on flesh.

Her body was a canvas of passion, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, each curve and hollow highlighted by the dim light that spilled in from the hallway. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples erect and begging for attention, and yet Prasad found himself unable to look away from the depth of emotion in her eyes. They were pools of desire, of love, of something darker that he could not quite name.

Raj grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as he neared climax. The smell of sex was thick in the air, a heady aroma that seemed to intoxicate them all. Anu's breath grew ragged, her body trembling with the effort of her performance. Her eyes never left Prasad's, her gaze a silent challenge that seemed to dare him to look away.

With a final, guttural groan, Raj pulled out of her mouth, his cock glistening with her saliva. He flipped her onto her stomach, her ass in the air, presenting it to Prasad like a prize. The head of his cock was a dark red, the veins standing out in stark relief as he lined it up with her puckered hole. Anu gasped, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and fear as she felt her father's thickness pressing against her.



The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room as Raj pushed into her, the resistance of her tight asshole giving way to his brutal force. Anu's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the pain and pleasure of the intrusion. Prasad watched, his own cock straining against the fabric of his pants, as Raj began to pound her with a ferocity that seemed almost animalistic. Each thrust was accompanied by a wet, slapping sound, a testament to her father's desire to claim her completely.



Anu's eyes never left Prasad's, her expression a mix of agony and triumph. Her hand reached back, her fingers digging into the bed sheets as she pushed back against her father's cock, taking him deeper with each stroke. Prasad's eyes were drawn to the spot where their bodies joined, the stark contrast of her father's large cock disappearing into the tiny, puckered opening of her ass. It was a sight that both repulsed and fascinated him, a testament to the depth of Anu's depravity and her ability to manipulate those around her.




The sound of footsteps on the marble floor of the hallway snapped him out of his trance, and he turned to see akka approaching them with a tray of tea. She was dressed in a revealing sari that left little to the imagination, the fabric clinging to her still-desirable curves like a second skin. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as she offered Prasad a cup, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Prasad took the tea, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to maintain his composure. He could hear Anu's loud screams of pleasure from the bedroom, and he knew that akka could hear them too. Yet, she acted as if nothing was amiss, her question laced with a subtle challenge. "So," she began, her voice a soft purr, "have you made up your mind, Prasad?"

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of weakness, any hint of disgust or anger. But all she found was a steely resolve, a determination to stand by Anu no matter what. Prasad took a sip of the tea, feeling the warm liquid soothing his dry throat. "I have," he said, his voice calm and even. "I love Anu, and I will do whatever it takes to make her happy."

Saroja's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with victory. "Good," she said, setting the tray down on the side table. "Because she deserves nothing less." With that, she turned and sashayed into the bedroom, her hips swinging seductively. The sound of her husband's grunts grew louder, the rhythm of their lovemaking unabated by their audience.

Anu's eyes never left Prasad's, her gaze a silent command that he watch, that he acknowledges her power over him. Her father's cock slammed into her again and again, her moans of pleasure echoing through the room. Prasad felt his own desire stirring, despite his disgust and anger. Saroja's manipulation was masterful, her control over the situation unshakeable.

The doorbell's chime pierced the air, a sharp contrast to the rhythmic sounds of the room. Saroja's eyes lit up with amusement, and she turned away from the bedroom scene without a second glance. Her sari clung to her body as she moved, the fabric whispering against her skin as she approached the door. Prasad watched, his mind racing with the implications of this interruption. Who could it be?



The door swung open to reveal the paperboy and his young nephew, the latter's eyes wide with curiosity as he took in the sight before him. The paperboy, a weathered man with a kind face, tipped his hat to Saroja. "Namaste, Saroja ji. I have come to collect the payment for the news paper." His voice was warm, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled over Prasad.

Saroja, ever the picture of hospitality, beamed a smile that was both welcoming and predatory. Her eyes flicked to the young boy, who couldn't help but gawk at the seductive spectacle before him. Her nighty was so sheer that her dark nipples and the shadow of her mound were clearly visible, a stark reminder of the woman's beauty and power. She knew the effect she had on him, and it only served to bolster her own sense of control.

"Namaste," she said sweetly, the word a purr that seemed to coil around the men like a serpent. "Please, come inside. I will get your payment." With a grace that belied the tension in the air, she stepped aside, allowing them to enter. The moment the door clicked shut, the illusion of propriety was shattered.

Her eyes never left Prasad's as she led the way to her bedroom, her hips swaying in a deliberate invitation. The young nephew's gaze followed her hungrily, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. Saroja knew the effect she had on men, and she revelled in it, using it as a weapon to bend them to her will. Her steps were a silent command, and Prasad felt himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind them, muffling the sounds of Anu's ecstasy. Saroja turned to face the paperboy and his nephew, her smile widening to reveal perfect white teeth. "Please," she said, gesturing to the large four-poster bed, "make yourselves comfortable."

The paperboy's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his hand tightening around the wad of cash he had brought for payment. "I-I don't think this is appropriate, Saroja ji," he stammered, his eyes darting to the open door and the sounds of passion that spilled out from within.



Saroja's laugh was like a silk scarf caressing the air. "Nonsense," she purred, placing a hand on the paperboy's forearm. Her touch was feather-light, but it was enough to still his protests. "You've seen it all before, haven't you?" Her gaze slid to the young nephew, who couldn't tear his eyes away from her. His cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "And your nephew, I'm sure he's curious."

The boy's eyes snapped up to meet hers, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Yes," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Auntie, I have not."

Saroja's smile grew even more predatory as she stepped closer, her hand sliding down to cup the boy's chin. "Well, then," she said, her voice a seductive whisper, "today is your lucky day." She turned to Prasad, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Isn't it, Prasad?"

Prasad could only nod, his mind racing with the implications of what was happening. Saroja's hand slid from the paperboy's arm to his cock, stroking him gently through his trousers. The man's eyes widened, but he made no move to stop her, his own lust overriding any sense of propriety he might have had.

"Saroja ji," the paperboy protested weakly, his voice thick with desire. "This is not right."

"Oh, but it is," she whispered, her fingers deftly untying the knot of her nighty. It fell open, revealing her lush figure to the eager eyes of the men. The room was thick with the scent of arousal, a potent blend of sweat and desire that seemed to hang in the air like a living thing. "You've seen it all before, haven't you?" She stepped closer to him, her breasts swaying with the movement.

[opendoor]

-32-

*** If you like the story, click on Like button ***





The paperboy couldn't hide the bulge in his pants, his eyes never leaving Saroja's body as she stepped closer to the bed. She climbed onto the mattress with the grace of a feline, her eyes never leaving Prasad's as she lay back against the plush pillows. "I know what you want," she murmured, her voice a siren's song that seemed to weave a spell around the room. "And I'm going to give it to you."

Her hand reached out to the paperboy, her fingers tracing the length of his cock through his trousers. The fabric was wet with his desire, a silent testament to the power she held over him. "But first, I want you to watch," she said, her eyes flicking to the young nephew who had yet to move. "I want you to see what a real woman can do."

The paperboy's smile grew cruel as he turned to the boy, his grip on his cock tightening. "Yes," he said, his voice thick with lust. "Come here, beta. Saroja auntie will show you how to make a  man scream for more."

The young boy's face was a picture of confusion, his eyes flicking between Saroja's naked body and the men's leering expressions. But there was something in Saroja's gaze that was undeniable, something that made him want to please her, to do whatever she asked. With trembling legs, he took a step forward, his eyes locked on hers.

"Lick her, beta," the paperboy commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Show me how eager you are to please." The boy's heart hammered in his chest, but he knew that to refuse was to invite disaster. He leaned in, his tongue tentatively exploring the slick folds of Saroja's sex.



Her moans grew more urgent as he found his rhythm, her hips bucking against his mouth as she revelled in the sensation. The paperboy watched with a critical eye, his own arousal clear from the bulge in his pants. "Faster," he barked, his grip on his cock tightening. "Make her come."

The boy's tongue flickered faster, his cheeks hollowing as he took her clit between his lips and sucked hard. Saroja's body responded with a jolt, her back arching as she cried out. Prasad felt his own desire stir, his eyes locked on the intimate scene before him. It was a dance of power, of seduction and control, and he was both repulsed and fascinated by it.

Saroja's gaze flicked up to the paperboy, her eyes pleading for more. The man's expression was one of pure dominance as he stepped closer to the bed, his own cock now fully exposed. It was thick and veined, a testament to his years of experience and lust. Prasad couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched her respond to him so eagerly, her eyes never leaving the older man's face.

The room was a symphony of sounds: Saroja's breathy moans, the boy's enthusiastic licks and slurps, and the rhythmic slap of her thighs against the bed. The air was thick with the scent of sex, a heady perfume that seemed to intoxicate them all. Prasad felt his cock pulse in his pants, his body betraying his inner turmoil with every beat of his heart.



Saroja's eyes never left the paperboy's, a silent communication passing between them as she writhed beneath the boy's eager mouth. Her hands gripped the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as she urged the boy on, her hips bucking in time with his ministrations. Each gasp and whimper that escaped her lips was a silent demand for more, a declaration of her power over the situation.

The paperboy stepped closer to the bed, his cock jutting out before him like a weapon. His eyes were dark with lust, his gaze never leaving Saroja's face as he watched her succumb to the pleasure of his nephew's attentions. "Look at him," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "Look at how eager he is to make you come. He's a natural."

The young boy's eyes flicked up to Saroja's, his own wide with a mix of fear and excitement. He could feel the paperboy's eyes on him, watching him, judging him, but all that mattered was the woman before him. He licked and sucked with an enthusiasm that belied his inexperience, his tongue tracing patterns on her swollen flesh that made her body quiver.




Saroja's breath hitched as the paperboy's cock filled her, the sensation of being claimed by the two men at once almost too much to bear. Her moans grew louder, her hips rising to meet each of the paperboy's thrusts, her body a canvas of passion and desire. The bed groaned in protest, the headboard banging against the wall in a staccato rhythm that matched the pounding of Prasad's own heart.

The young nephew, driven by a mix of fear and fascination, eagerly lapped at her clit, his inexperience only adding to the eroticism of the moment. His tongue swirled and danced, mimicking the rhythmic thrusts of his uncle's cock, each touch sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream as she felt the first waves of an orgasm building.

 

Prasad could only stand there, his cock straining against his pants, as he watched akka’s body convulse with pleasure. Her cries grew louder, her hips bucking against the paperboy's thrusts as she approached her peak. The sight was both repulsive and mesmerizing, a dance of power and submission that made his stomach churn and his cock throb.

The paperboy's pace grew more frantic, his hips slamming into Saroja with the force of a man possessed. His grip on her waist was bruising, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he claimed her over and over again. His breath was hot and ragged in her ear, his words a stream of filth that seemed to fuel her passion. "You like that, don't you, you fucking slut?" he growled, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. "You like taking my big dick?"

Saroja could only moan in response, her body a writhing mass of pleasure beneath him. Her eyes never left Prasad's, her gaze a silent challenge that seemed to dare him to look away. The nephew's tongue swirled and danced on her clit, his inexperience only adding to the raw, primal energy that suffused the room. Her body was alive with sensation, each touch a spark that threatened to set her alight.



With a final, brutal thrust, the paperboy pulled out, a smug smile playing on his lips. He stepped back, his cock slick with her juices, and gestured to the bed. "On your hands and knees," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "Show me that pretty ass of yours."

Saroja's body was a canvas of sweat and passion, her chest heaving as she complied, moving with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. Her eyes never left Prasad's, the challenge in them burning brighter with each passing second. She knew the effect she had on men, and she used it to her advantage, her every move calculated to both excite and humiliate.

The paperboy stepped closer, his hand moving to his cock. He spit into his palm, the wet sound echoing through the room. His hand moved in a slow, deliberate motion, coating his shaft with saliva. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and Saroja was all too eager to give it to him.

With a grace that seemed almost inhuman, Saroja complied, her body moving in a sensual ballet of submission. She positioned herself on all fours on the bed, her back arched like a cat's, her ass high in the air. Her skin glistened with sweat, and the scent of arousal grew stronger with each passing second. The young nephew watched, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination, his own cock hardening as he took in the sight of her exposed, vulnerable body.



The paperboy stepped closer, his hand guiding his cock to Saroja's ass. He pushed in slowly, savoring the feel of her tightness, her body resisting and then giving way to his brutal invasion. Saroja's moan was a mix of pain and pleasure, a sound that seemed to resonate through the very air of the room, setting Prasad's own body on fire. The young boy's eyes were glued to the spot where the two were joined, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch himself, his own desire mirroring that of the adults before him.

Saroja's eyes never left Prasad's as the paperboy began to fuck her, her gaze a silent demand that he accepts her depravity, that he become a willing participant in her twisted games. Prasad felt a knot form in his stomach, his love for Anu and his disgust at the scene before him warring within him. But there was something in Saroja's gaze that he couldn't resist, something that drew him in, that made him want to be a part of the power play that unfolded before his very eyes.



With a grace that was almost serpentine, Saroja reached out a hand and beckoned the young nephew closer. He stumbled forward, his own cock standing at attention, a silent testament to his burgeoning arousal. She took him in her mouth, her head bobbing rhythmically as she sucked him off. The room was filled with the sounds of their pleasure—the wet, sucking noises of her mouth on the boy's dick, the slap of flesh as the paperboy claimed her ass, and their moans and groans that seemed to crescendo with each passing second.

The paperboy's strokes grew more punishing, his hand coming down hard on Saroja's ass with a smack that echoed through the room. Her cheeks jiggled with each impact, reddening under the onslaught of his palm. Yet she never made a sound of protest, her eyes never leaving Prasad's, a silent challenge that seemed to dare him to leave. The boy's hips thrust into her mouth, his breathing growing more ragged as he approached his climax.

"Uncle, I can't hold it anymore," the nephew managed to gasp out, his voice hoarse with effort. The paperboy's grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and malice. "Then cum, boy," he said, his voice a harsh whisper that seemed to slice through the air. "Cum in her mouth and let her drink every drop."

The young boy's body tensed, his cock pulsing in Saroja's mouth as he approached the edge. Prasad watched, his own arousal warring with the horror that filled him at the sight before him. Saroja's eyes never left his, her gaze a silent demand that he accepts this twisted reality. And as the boy's cock spurted hot cum into her mouth, she swallowed it greedily, her eyes never leaving Prasad's.

The paperboy chuckled, his hand still wrapped around his own cock, stroking it as he watched the scene unfold. "Very good," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now, let's see if you can handle a real man's load, slut."

Saroja's eyes snapped up to meet the paperboy's, a challenge in their depths. She knew what was coming next, and the thrill of it made her pussy throb with need. The young boy's cock slipped from her mouth with a wet pop, his cum sliding down her chin to pool in the valley between her breasts. She didn't bother to wipe it away, instead letting it mix with the sweat that already glistened on her skin.



The paperboy stepped closer, his cock a monstrous thing in his hand, thick and veined, pulsing with the need to claim her. He positioned himself behind her, the tip of his cock nudging against her swollen pussy. "Ready for me, whore?" he asked, his voice a taunt that made her blood boil.

Saroja's only response was to push back against him, eager for the invasion. The young nephew watched, his own cock still hard as he took in the scene before him. The paperboy's cock slid into her with ease, her body welcoming him with a wet, eager embrace. His eyes rolled back in his head as he began to fuck her with a brutal rhythm, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her body.

Prasad felt his own cock throb in response, his hand moving to his crotch as he watched akka take the paperboy's cock without a sound of protest. Her eyes never left his, a silent demand that he accepts this as part of her world. And as he watched, something within him began to shift, to accept the depravity before him as part of who she was, part of what she needed.

The paperboy grunted, his hips jerking as he reached his climax. "Here it comes, you little slut," he said, his voice a growl of triumph. Saroja's mouth opened wide, her tongue out to catch any stray drops as the first ropes of cum shot forth. The boy watched, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and fascination as Saroja auntie swallowed, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.

 

The paperboy's cock spurted again and again, filling her mouth with his hot, sticky seed. Saroja took it all, her eyes never leaving Prasad's, a silent challenge that seemed to dare him to look away. But he couldn't. The sight of her, so beautifully debased, was like a drug, addictive and all-consuming. He felt his own hand move to his crotch, his cock pulsing in time with the paperboy's thrusts.

As the paperboy finished, he stepped back, his cock glistening with Saroja's saliva. He was still hard, still hungry, and his gaze fell to the young boy, who was still stroking himself tentatively. "Your turn," he said, his voice a low growl that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

The boy looked up at him with a mix of fear and desire, his hand moving faster on his cock. The paperboy stepped closer, his ass still open, still wet from his own release. "Lick it," he ordered, the smugness in his voice unmistakable. "Show me how eager you are to be a part of this."

Saroja's eyes never left Prasad's as she leaned in, her tongue tentatively touching the paperboy's asshole. She could feel the power dynamics shift, the room a cauldron of lust and control. The paperboy's moan grew louder as she began to clean him, her tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles that sent shivers down his spine. The young boy's hand stilled on his cock, his eyes locked on Saroja's face as she serviced his uncle.

"Fuck, yes," the paperboy groaned, his hips pushing back against her face. "That's it, slut. Just like that." His hand reached down to squeeze her breast, his fingers toying with her hardened nipple as he enjoyed her subservience. Saroja took it all, her eyes never wavering from Prasad's, a silent challenge that seemed to say, "You want me? Then this is what you get."

The young nephew watched, his hand moving faster on his own cock as he took in the scene before him. The power dynamics in the room were palpable, the air thick with the scent of lust and submission. He had never seen anything like this, never dreamed that such acts could exist between consenting adults. Yet here he was, a participant in a twisted play that both repulsed and thrilled him.

As the paperboy's cum filled Saroja's mouth, Prasad felt a strange mix of arousal and anger. He had come here for Anu, not to be drawn into her mother's web of perversion. But he couldn't deny the effect it was having on him, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. "Good girl," the paperboy murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You've done well today. Maybe next time, I'll let you have some real fun."

With a smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled 10-rupee note, tossing it onto the floor at Saroja's side. The room fell silent, the only sound the harsh breathing of the three of them. Saroja's eyes widened with a mix of shock and humiliation, and she stared at the note for a long moment before slowly lowering herself to the floor. Her hand reached out, trembling slightly, and picked it up, the action a clear message of her submission.

The paperboy's grin grew even more smug as he watched her. "Good," he said, his voice a low purr. "Now you know your place." Saroja looked up at him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desire. She knew the game she was playing, knew the role she had to assume to keep these men in line. And as much as it galled her to be treated like a whore, a part of her revelled in the power it brought her.

Prasad's hand had moved to his own cock now, stroking himself in time with the paperboy's words. He didn't know what was happening to him, didn't know if he should be disgusted or excited. All he knew was that he couldn't tear his eyes away from akka’s body, from the way she moved, from the way she took their abuse with a grace that seemed almost supernatural.

Saroja emerged from the bedroom, her naked body a vision of beauty and depravity. Her breasts swayed with each step she took, her nipples hard and pointed from the recent use they had endured. Her hips rolled in a seductive rhythm, her ass cheeks wiggling with each step as if to taunt Prasad further. She walked with a confidence that seemed to fill the very air around her, her eyes gleaming with an inner fire that spoke of her unbridled sexuality.

As she reached the front door, the paperboy and his nephew waited, the smells of sex clinging to them like a second skin. The young boy's eyes were wide with shock, his cheeks flushed from his first taste of the forbidden fruit. The paperboy, on the other hand, wore a smug smile, his eyes raking over Saroja's body with the familiarity of a man who knew he could claim her whenever he desired.

With a flick of her wrist, Saroja opened the door, the cool breeze from outside a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the room they had just left. She stepped aside, allowing them to leave first, her hips swaying in a deliberate invitation that made Prasad's cock throb. "Thank you, Saroja ji," the paperboy said, his voice thick with satisfaction as he tipped his hat. His eyes never left hers, the smugness in his gaze unmistakable.

The young nephew scurried out, his eyes downcast, unable to meet the woman's gaze. Saroja watched them go, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. As she was about to close the door, she heard a sound from the fence that separated her yard from her neighbor's. She turned to see Mr. Mohan, the old man who had lived there for as long as she could remember, leaning over the wooden barricade. His eyes were alight with mischief as they took in her naked form, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

The sight of his leering gaze sent a shiver down her spine, a thrill of excitement mingling with a hint of fear. Saroja knew that Mr. Mohan had always had a thing for her, had always watched her with a hunger that made her skin crawl. But now, as she stood before him, exposed and vulnerable, she felt a strange power. She knew he had seen her at her most depraved, and it only made her want to push the boundaries further.

With a wink, she stepped back, allowing the door to swing shut with a soft click. The sound seemed to echo through the house, a declaration of the secrets that lay within. Prasad watched her, his eyes dark with confusion and desire, his cock still hard in his pants.

Saroja sauntered back towards him, her steps deliberate, her body moving like a predator stalking its prey. As she passed, she made sure to brush against him, her skin hot and sticky with the remnants of her recent conquests. Prasad could feel the cum on her thighs, a wet trail that seemed to mark him as much as it marked her.

The playful smirk on her lips grew wider as she brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion that made his knees feel weak. Her eyes never left his, the challenge in them unmistakable. "You're not like them," she murmured, her voice a silken caress that seemed to wrap around him like a warm blanket. "You're better than that, Prasad."

He took a step towards her, his hand reaching out as if to touch her. But she was too fast, slipping away from his grasp with a grace that made his heart race. "No," she said, her tone firm but gentle. "You're not ready." And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, his cock still hard, his mind reeling from what he had just witnessed.

Saroja moved through the house with the grace of a dancer, her bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. She disappeared into her bedroom, the door closing softly behind her. Prasad could hear the rustle of fabric as she dbangd herself in a beautiful blue and gold sari, the colors reflecting the complexities of her personality—cool and regal, yet warm and seductive.