Adultery Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

[prasannas2001]

 
 
 
 
"I love you too," Mamta whispered, her voice breaking. "I love you so much it scares me."
 
"Don't be scared." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I've got you. I will always have you."
 
They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the silence a soft, protective blanket around them.
 
His hand never stopped moving on her back, slow and soothing, and she eventually drifted into a light, restless sleep.
 
When he finally stood to leave, he kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there.
 
"I'll come back," he said softly, though she was barely awake. "When you're ready. Whenever you're ready."
 
"I'll be waiting," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed.
 
"I know." He smoothed her hair back from her face. "I know you will."
 
He walked to the door, then turned back, his hand on the frame.
 
"Mamta?" he said softly.
 
"Yes?" Her voice was drowsy, distant.
 
"Thank you. For trusting me. For letting me in."
 
She smiled, that beautiful, vulnerable smile that made his heart ache. "Thank you for understanding."
 
"Always." His voice was a low, fervent whisper. "For you. Always."
 
He left the house, closing the door softly behind him.
 
The cool air hit his heated skin, and he leaned against the doorframe for a moment, his eyes closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
 
The frustration was overwhelming.
 
His body still burned, still ached, still screamed for release. Every nerve ending was on fire, every muscle taut with unsatisfied need.
 
He could still feel her heat against his skin, still taste her on his lips, still hear her breathless moans in his ears. He had been so close, so achingly, torturously close, and then it had all been ripped away.
 
He pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. He could feel the anger coiling in his chest, dark and bitter, warring with the tenderness he had shown her.
 
He had done the right thing. He knew that. But doing the right thing had never felt so devastatingly wrong.

 
 

[prasannas2001]

[prasannas2001]

[prasannas2001]

 
 

In Mamta’s Bedroom
Mamta lay on the bed, her body still tingling, still humming with the ghost of his touch.
 
She could still feel his hands on her skin, his lips on her neck, the aching heat of him pressing against her.
 
She had been so close, so close to giving herself to him completely.
 
And then she had stopped him.
 
He stopped.
He actually stopped.
When I asked him to.
 
Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless.
 
She hugged the pillow, breathing in his scent, letting his absence wash over her in waves of relief and regret.
 
He really does care about me.
 
He really does love me.
 
He could have taken what he wanted.
 
He could have pushed.
 
But he didn't.
 
She pressed her face into the pillow, her body still trembling with the aftermath of her panic.
 
I'll be ready.
Soon.
I'll give myself to him completely.
I owe him that.
 

Outside
Outside, Rohan walked down the quiet street, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his jaw tight with tension.
 
His body still pulsed with need, still throbbed with unsatisfied desire, and he had to physically restrain himself from turning back.
 
He pulled out his phone, his fingers moving on autopilot as he typed.
 
Rohan: She stopped me.
 
Anjali: What?
 
Rohan: Yes. She said she wasn't ready. I stopped.
 
Anjali: And you didn't push?
 
Rohan: No. I told her I understood. I told her I'd wait.
 
Anjali: You're playing the long game.
 
Rohan: I'm playing the right game. She'll come to me. When she's ready, she'll come to me.
 
Anjali: And when she does?
 
Rohan: Then I'll take everything she has to give. Everything in every possible way. 
 
He pocketed the phone and stood still for a moment, staring up at the darkening sky.
 
The frustration was still there, still burning, but beneath it was a cold, calculated patience.
 
He had waited this long.
 
He could wait a little longer.
 
Soon, Mamta… Very soon…
 
He smiled, a slow, dark curve of his lips, and began walking home.
 
You're going to be mine.
All of you.
Every last piece.
And when you finally give yourself to me, I won't be gentle.
 
He pulled out his phone one more time, looking at the message he had just sent.
 
Then I'll take everything she has to give.
 
He pocketed the phone and drove towards the college. 
 
He knew, Mamta's daughter, Neetu, is there along with his sister. 
 
A smile escaped in his face, he knew what is going to do. 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 

[Sankamithira]

Superb update

[prasannas2001]

[Akash7281]

Super updates and super pics 

[prasannas2001]

Superb update

 
 
 
 
 Thank you so much
 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

Super updates and super pics 

 
 
 
 
 
Thank you so much 
 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

[ananth1986]

Mamta is still nervous.
Rohan making her left all shy.
Waiting for next????
Thank you

[prasannas2001]

Mamta is still nervous.
Rohan making her left all shy.
Waiting for next????
Thank you

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much for your support.

Yes I will try to giving the updates today evening.


 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
 

 
The College – Isolated Room
 
Rohan rode back to college, his body still vibrating with unspent need.
 
Every bump in the road, every jolt of the vehicle sent fresh waves of frustration through him.
 
He was restless, agitated, his skin prickling with heat.
 
His fingers gripped the handlebars so tightly his knuckles went white.
 
He walked through the college corridors, his footsteps echoing against the empty walls.
 
His body still buzzed from the intimate moments with Mamta, the taste of her skin still lingering on his tongue, the phantom weight of her breasts still filling his palms.
 
He was painfully aroused, achingly hard, every step a reminder of what he had been denied.
 
Her scent clung to his clothes, her warmth still imprinted on his skin.
 
He needed release.
He needed control.
He needed to take back the power that had slipped through his fingers when she had pushed him away.
 
Neetu. Mamta’s daughter, who looks pretty much like younger version of Mamta.
 
The thought came to him like a gift, like salvation.
 
Yes, Neetu. She'll pay for what her mom did. Mamta made me ache and stopped at the final moment. I'll take it from Neetu.
 
I'll take everything I was denied. I will get this bitch. I will make her pay for her mom’s actions.
 
His jaw tightened with determination. Neetu was here somewhere, in one of the classrooms, probably oblivious to the storm brewing inside him.
 
He knew the rehearsal spaces, those tucked-away rooms used during college functions for dress changes and last-minute practice.
Private.
Soundproof.
Isolated.
Perfect for what he had in mind.
 
No one would disturb them there.
 
He pulled out his phone and texted Anjali.
 
Rohan: I need Neetu. Send her to the west wing practice room. The one with the red door. I want to take it from her, what her mom didn’t let me take.
 
Anjali: Are you sure?
 
Rohan: Yes. I've never been more sure. I want her now. Just send her.
 
Anjali: On it.
 
 
He pocketed the phone and made his way to the west wing.
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
 

 
The corridor was empty, the afternoon classes in full session.
 
Distant murmurs of lectures drifted through closed doors, but here, in this forgotten corner of the college, there was only silence.
 
He found the room with the red door and pushed it open.
 
The room was small but private.
 
A few chairs stacked in the corner.
 
A couple of sofas set against the wall.
 
A large mirror along one side, reflecting the dim light.
 
A small changing area behind a faded curtain.
 
Perfect.
Intimate.
Secluded.
 
He closed the door behind him and sank onto the sofa, trying to calm his ragged breathing.
 
His body still burned, still ached.
 
He closed his eyes, imagining Neetu's face which resembles very much to her mother, her curves, the way she would melt beneath his touch.
 
Neetu. I need Neetu, Mamta’s daughter.
 
But then he heard a sound.
 
A rustle. A soft gasp. The shuffle of someone trying to stay silent.
 
He turned sharply, his eyes narrowing.
 
There, in the corner, half-hidden behind the curtain, was a boy. First year. Fresh-faced and trembling.
 
His eyes were wide with terror, his face pale as milk. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.
 
"Sir, I, I didn't know, " The boy's voice cracked with fear.
 
Rohan's eyes hardened, a cold fury settling over him. "What are you doing here?"
 
"I was just, I was waiting for, " The boy stumbled over his words, his hands shaking.
 
"Get out." Rohan's voice was low, dangerous.
 
"Sir, "
 
"Now." The word was a whip crack, sharp and final.
 
The boy scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over his own legs. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was, "
 
"Out. Now." Rohan stepped closer, his presence looming. "And if I see you here again, "
 
"You won't. I swear. I won't come back." The boy practically ran to the door, fumbling with the handle, and disappeared into the corridor.
 
Rohan closed the door behind him, sliding the lock into place with a decisive click.
 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
 

 
Perfect. Now I just need that cute bitch to dig into her pussy.  Rohan thought.
 
He waited, his body still aching, still hungry.
 
Every second stretched into eternity.
 
He paced the room, his fingers running through his hair, his jaw tight with tension.
 
He could still feel Mamta's warmth, still taste her on his lips, still hear her breathless whimpers.
 
The frustration was a living thing inside him, coiling and uncoiling with every heartbeat.
 
A few minutes later, a soft knock came at the door.
 
His pulse quickened. He opened it.
 
Neetu stood there, her eyes wide with curiosity, a small smile playing on her lips.
 
She was wearing a simple kurta and jeans, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places.
 
Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves around her shoulders.
 
She looked fresh, innocent, utterly unaware of the storm that was about to consume her.
 
"Rohan?" Her voice was soft, uncertain. "Anjali said you wanted to see me here?"
 
"Come in." He pulled her inside, closing the door behind her.
 
The lock clicked into place, sealing them in their private world. "I needed to see you. See you completely."
 
"Is everything okay?" She looked up at him, her brow furrowed with concern. "You seem... different."
 
"Everything's perfect." His hands found her waist, pulling her close. "Now that you're here."
 
She gasped softly as his body pressed against hers.
 
He could feel the warmth of her, the softness of her curves.
 
She smelled like vanilla and something floral, a sweet, innocent fragrance that made his head spin.
 
But beneath it, he could almost imagine her mom’s jasmine scent, could almost pretend that it was her in his arms.
 
"Rohan…" Her voice was breathless, uncertain. "What's going on?"
 
"Shh." He pressed a finger to her lips. "Don't talk. Just feel."
 
He kissed her, deep and hungry, pouring all of his frustrated desire into the press of his lips.
 
His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, and she melted against him, her body softening, surrendering.

 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
 

 
Neetu tasted like innocence, like trust, like everything her like her mom.
 
He could feel Mamta’s lips when he is kissing Neetu.
 
When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with want. "I need you, Neetu. I need to feel you. All of you."
 
"But…" She glanced around nervously. "Here? In the college? Someone might see us…"
 
"Don't think." His hands moved to her hips, gripping her firmly. "Just feel. Just give yourself to me."
 
"But Rohan…"
 
"I've wanted you," he said, his voice a low, hungry growl. "I've wanted to have you again. It's been so long since we've been together. Too long."
 
"Mmm…" She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering. "Me too…"
 
His hands roamed her body, her waist, her hips, the soft curve of her back.
 
Every curve felt familiar, like her mom, he felt this morning, yet different.
 
As his fingers traced her shape, he couldn't help but compare.
 
Her waist was slightly narrower than Mamta's.
 
Her hips were just a fraction less generous.
 
But the overall shape, the way she moved beneath his touch, it was so achingly similar to her mom.
 
In his mind, he could almost pretend she was her mother.
 
Mamta.
 
The thought pulsed through him, hot and possessive.
 
This is for you Mamta. This is what you denied me. Your daughter is going get that.
 
Neetu shivered beneath his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.
 
"You're so soft, like your mom" he murmured against her neck.
 
"So warm. I love the way you feel against me."
 
"Rohan…" she was confused.
 
"Don't stop me." His voice was rough, demanding. "I need this. I need you."
 
His lips found her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to her sensitive skin.
 
He tasted her, clean and sweet, with a hint of vanilla.
 
But in his mind, it was jasmine he tasted. It was Neetu’s mother’s warmth he felt.
 
It was Mamta's soft gasps he heard.
 
"You taste so good," he breathed against her skin. "I can't get enough of you."
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
 

 
"Rohan… Someone might…"
 
"I don't care." His hand moved to the edge of her shirt. "I don't care who sees. I don't care about anything but you."
 
"You're so hot, Neetu," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
 
He pushed her shirt up, revealing her breasts. They were full and beautiful, her nipples already tight and pebbled with arousal.
 
He cupped her breasts gently, feeling their weight, their warmth.
 
"So soft," he breathed. "So perfect. Just like your mom."
 
"Rohan…" Her voice was uncertain, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.
 
"Shh." He silenced her with a kiss, his hands kneading her breasts.
 
"When I see you, Neetu, I feel like I'm seeing your mom. The same curves. The same softness. The same warmth."
 
His lips found her nipple, taking it into his mouth.
 
She cried out softly, her back arching, her fingers tangling in his hair.
 
He suckled her greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, drawing breathless moans from her lips.
 
"You taste so good," he murmured against her skin. "I could do this forever."
 
His hands moved to her waist, finding the edge of her jeans. He wanted to complete what her mother had stopped.
 
He wanted to claim what had been denied by her mother.
 
The frustration was a fire in his veins, and Neetu was the only release.
 
"Let's see what's in here…" He unbuttoned her jeans with impatient fingers, sliding them down her hips.
 
Her skin was warm beneath his touch, soft and smooth. In his eyes, he was looking at Mamta.
 
He was touching Mamta.
He was claiming her mother, what should have been his.
 
"So beautiful," he breathed, his eyes roaming over her. "Every inch of you. I'm sure you're tighter than your mom."
 
"Rohan…" Her voice was a whimper, a mix of pleasure and confusion.
 
His hand found her clit, sliding beneath the waistband of her underwear. She was wet, slick with desire, and the feel of her made him groan.
 
 
 
 

[Akash7281]

Super updates with lot of quality narration, keep it up 

[prasannas2001]

Super updates with lot of quality narration, keep it up 

Thank you so much