30-04-2025, 02:26 PM
I didn’t plan it.
I didn’t even think.
I just acted.
Because once you cross a line like this…
There’s no going back.
And I was already dripping through my soaked panty onto the mat.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I bent down.
Slow.
Deliberate.
My breasts hanging heavy, nipples stiff, brushing the mat as I shifted lower.
My mouth found his balls first.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soft.
Warm.
Heavy.
The skin loose but clean.
The smell hit me fully now — musky, sweaty, salty — pure male.
But it wasn’t disgusting.
It was addictive.
I nuzzled under them, licking the sensitive folds gently.
One ball first — sucked lightly into my mouth.
Rolled it on my tongue.
Let it pop out softly.
Then the other one.
I felt his thighs shudder when my tongue traced the line under his sack.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then I moved.
Still no hands.
Just my mouth.
I pressed my face into his pubic hair — trimmed, rough, smelling of soap and skin and raw heat.
I inhaled.
Deep.
Filling my lungs with the scent of him.
My tongue poked out again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Starting from the root of his cock.
I licked upward.
Slow.
Bottom side first — the thick ridge where the shaft meets the belly.
Inch by inch.
A long, wet stripe of my tongue from the base to the tip.
He gasped above me.
His cock twitched madly.
Precum drooled again — warm and salty.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I went to the left side.
Licked from the heavy vein running there.
Slow.
Savouring.
Then the right side — tracing the curve, the skin softer than I expected, so alive it pulsed under my tongue.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally…
I positioned my face at the base again.
Opened my mouth.
And pushed it in.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
His cock.
Thick.
Heavy.
Alive.
I took him into my mouth — inch by inch — feeling the width stretch my lips.
The heat filled me instantly.
My tongue flattened against the underside, sliding as I went deeper.
One inch.
Two inches.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Almost six inches now inside my mouth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My jaw ached slightly, but I didn’t care.
I pulled back slowly.
Then pushed in again.
One.
Two.
Three strokes.
Sucking softly, cheeks hollowing slightly with each move.
Not sloppy.
Not wild.
Just slow, reverent, filthy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I could feel it.
His cock swelling even bigger.
His thighs tensing.
His balls drawing up.
His breath caught sharply.
I knew.
He was going to cum.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I tried to pull back — but it was too late.
With just a few short strokes inside my mouth…
He jerked.
Once.
Twice.
And then…
He exploded.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hot, thick cum flooded into my mouth.
The taste — salty, raw, strong.
First shot hit the roof of my mouth.
Second shot filled my cheeks.
Third weak pulse dribbled out as I struggled to swallow.
It was messy.
It was filthy.
It was real.
And it was his first blowjob.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I pulled back slowly, cum dripping from the side of my lips.
Looked up at him.
He was panting.
Chest heaving.
Cock twitching — still standing proud but softening slowly.
Eyes wide.
Face stunned.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And me?
My lips wet.
My chin dripping.
My heart thundering.
And my pussy?
Flooded.
I could feel it — my soaked panties stuck to my lips, my thighs slick, my whole body shaking.
And all I could think was…
I just gave my husband’s brother his first blowjob.
And he had called me anni the whole time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stayed crouched there for a moment.
Breathing through my mouth.
My knees on the mat.
My breasts swaying freely, loose, bouncing softly as I tried to find balance again.
His cock still hung in front of me — proud, twitching, a pearl of thick, creamy cum clinging to the head.
I pulled back slowly.
Let the last drop break and fall — a hot, sticky line stretching from my lips to his tip — before it snapped and fell onto the mat.
My chin was wet.
My lips were shining.
My mouth — full.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I rose up.
Slow.
One knee first.
Then the other.
Standing now.
Wobbling slightly.
My legs were weak.
My panty was soaked and sticking between my thighs, every step making it squelch softly.
I didn’t use my hands to wipe my mouth immediately.
I let it stay.
Let the slick drip from the corner of my lips down my chin.
The taste was strong — salty, musky, male.
The thickness coated my tongue.
Some slid down my throat involuntarily as I breathed.
But still, a good amount sat in my mouth — heavy, warm, his.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I raised my right hand.
Brought my fingers to the corner of my mouth.
Scooped the drool carefully — slow, deliberate — collecting his cum that had leaked out.
My fingers were sticky, shining under the dim ceiling light.
I didn’t rush.
I didn’t act shy.
I just stared at him — straight into his wide, stunned eyes.
He was still frozen.
Still standing like a statue.
His arms loose at his sides.
His cock drooping slightly now, still semi-hard, still glistening with leftover wetness.
His whole body trembling slightly — not from fear, but from shock.
From awe.
From what had just happened.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I brought my cum-covered fingers to my mouth.
One by one, slow and lazy, like I was feeding myself honey.
Slid them past my lips.
Sucked them clean.
Swallowed every drop.
While looking directly into his eyes.
No blinking.
No smiling.
Just silent, deep, electric eye contact.
I let him see everything.
The way my cheeks hollowed slightly.
The way my throat moved as I swallowed him down.
The way my tongue licked the last taste off my fingertip.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Only after I swallowed fully — only after the taste faded from my mouth — did I lower my hand.
Still no words between us.
Just the sound of the fan spinning above.
The distant night insects outside the window.
And our breathing — uneven, hungry, wild.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I noticed the clock.
On the far wall.
11:30 PM.
Kartik’s flight must have landed somewhere far from this madness.
Somewhere, he would be walking out of an airport.
Trusting me.
Trusting us.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I looked back at Arjun.
His cock was shrinking now.
Slowly.
The thick, proud organ softening inch by inch — still glistening wet, still flushed from the rush.
His face?
God.
He looked like a boy again.
Lost. Awed. Broken.
But standing there.
For me.
Still calling me anni in his heart, even after everything.
Still worshipping me with his eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And me?
I wasn’t finished yet.
Not fully.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stepped forward.
One slow step.
Another.
Closing the distance.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t dare breathe.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I raised my hand.
Touched his face — softly, fingertips grazing his cheek.
Felt the slight stubble starting to grow under his skin.
Felt the heat of his cheek against my palm.
Then I leaned forward.
Lifted my face.
And kissed him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My first kiss.
Our first kiss.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Not rough.
Not hungry.
Just soft.
Lips touching lips.
A closed-mouth, breathy, shaking kiss.
His lips were dry and cracked.
Mine were still wet — slightly salty from him.
I pressed once.
Held.
Breathed into him.
His whole body shuddered.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I pulled back slowly.
Looked into his eyes.
Smiled a tiny, broken smile.
Whispered:
“Thank you…”
Thank you for obeying.
Thank you for not asking.
Thank you for wanting me.
Thank you for not stopping me when I crossed my own lines.
Thank you for being the boy I never knew I needed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then…
Without another word…
I turned.
Walked away.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My panty clung between my legs, soaking every step.
My breasts bounced freely with each move, nipples brushing air.
I didn't pick up my saree.
Didn't dress.
Just walked naked but for a soaked panty into my bedroom.
Locked the door.
Leaned against it.
Closed my eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And in the dark…
I felt my own heartbeat pounding between my legs.
Felt the taste of him still lingering on my tongue.
Felt the shame.
Felt the power.
Felt the madness I had allowed to begin.
And somewhere deep inside…
I already knew.
This was not the end.
It was just the beginning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I didn’t even think.
I just acted.
Because once you cross a line like this…
There’s no going back.
And I was already dripping through my soaked panty onto the mat.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I bent down.
Slow.
Deliberate.
My breasts hanging heavy, nipples stiff, brushing the mat as I shifted lower.
My mouth found his balls first.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soft.
Warm.
Heavy.
The skin loose but clean.
The smell hit me fully now — musky, sweaty, salty — pure male.
But it wasn’t disgusting.
It was addictive.
I nuzzled under them, licking the sensitive folds gently.
One ball first — sucked lightly into my mouth.
Rolled it on my tongue.
Let it pop out softly.
Then the other one.
I felt his thighs shudder when my tongue traced the line under his sack.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then I moved.
Still no hands.
Just my mouth.
I pressed my face into his pubic hair — trimmed, rough, smelling of soap and skin and raw heat.
I inhaled.
Deep.
Filling my lungs with the scent of him.
My tongue poked out again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Starting from the root of his cock.
I licked upward.
Slow.
Bottom side first — the thick ridge where the shaft meets the belly.
Inch by inch.
A long, wet stripe of my tongue from the base to the tip.
He gasped above me.
His cock twitched madly.
Precum drooled again — warm and salty.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I went to the left side.
Licked from the heavy vein running there.
Slow.
Savouring.
Then the right side — tracing the curve, the skin softer than I expected, so alive it pulsed under my tongue.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally…
I positioned my face at the base again.
Opened my mouth.
And pushed it in.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
His cock.
Thick.
Heavy.
Alive.
I took him into my mouth — inch by inch — feeling the width stretch my lips.
The heat filled me instantly.
My tongue flattened against the underside, sliding as I went deeper.
One inch.
Two inches.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Almost six inches now inside my mouth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My jaw ached slightly, but I didn’t care.
I pulled back slowly.
Then pushed in again.
One.
Two.
Three strokes.
Sucking softly, cheeks hollowing slightly with each move.
Not sloppy.
Not wild.
Just slow, reverent, filthy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I could feel it.
His cock swelling even bigger.
His thighs tensing.
His balls drawing up.
His breath caught sharply.
I knew.
He was going to cum.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I tried to pull back — but it was too late.
With just a few short strokes inside my mouth…
He jerked.
Once.
Twice.
And then…
He exploded.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hot, thick cum flooded into my mouth.
The taste — salty, raw, strong.
First shot hit the roof of my mouth.
Second shot filled my cheeks.
Third weak pulse dribbled out as I struggled to swallow.
It was messy.
It was filthy.
It was real.
And it was his first blowjob.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I pulled back slowly, cum dripping from the side of my lips.
Looked up at him.
He was panting.
Chest heaving.
Cock twitching — still standing proud but softening slowly.
Eyes wide.
Face stunned.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And me?
My lips wet.
My chin dripping.
My heart thundering.
And my pussy?
Flooded.
I could feel it — my soaked panties stuck to my lips, my thighs slick, my whole body shaking.
And all I could think was…
I just gave my husband’s brother his first blowjob.
And he had called me anni the whole time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stayed crouched there for a moment.
Breathing through my mouth.
My knees on the mat.
My breasts swaying freely, loose, bouncing softly as I tried to find balance again.
His cock still hung in front of me — proud, twitching, a pearl of thick, creamy cum clinging to the head.
I pulled back slowly.
Let the last drop break and fall — a hot, sticky line stretching from my lips to his tip — before it snapped and fell onto the mat.
My chin was wet.
My lips were shining.
My mouth — full.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I rose up.
Slow.
One knee first.
Then the other.
Standing now.
Wobbling slightly.
My legs were weak.
My panty was soaked and sticking between my thighs, every step making it squelch softly.
I didn’t use my hands to wipe my mouth immediately.
I let it stay.
Let the slick drip from the corner of my lips down my chin.
The taste was strong — salty, musky, male.
The thickness coated my tongue.
Some slid down my throat involuntarily as I breathed.
But still, a good amount sat in my mouth — heavy, warm, his.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I raised my right hand.
Brought my fingers to the corner of my mouth.
Scooped the drool carefully — slow, deliberate — collecting his cum that had leaked out.
My fingers were sticky, shining under the dim ceiling light.
I didn’t rush.
I didn’t act shy.
I just stared at him — straight into his wide, stunned eyes.
He was still frozen.
Still standing like a statue.
His arms loose at his sides.
His cock drooping slightly now, still semi-hard, still glistening with leftover wetness.
His whole body trembling slightly — not from fear, but from shock.
From awe.
From what had just happened.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I brought my cum-covered fingers to my mouth.
One by one, slow and lazy, like I was feeding myself honey.
Slid them past my lips.
Sucked them clean.
Swallowed every drop.
While looking directly into his eyes.
No blinking.
No smiling.
Just silent, deep, electric eye contact.
I let him see everything.
The way my cheeks hollowed slightly.
The way my throat moved as I swallowed him down.
The way my tongue licked the last taste off my fingertip.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Only after I swallowed fully — only after the taste faded from my mouth — did I lower my hand.
Still no words between us.
Just the sound of the fan spinning above.
The distant night insects outside the window.
And our breathing — uneven, hungry, wild.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I noticed the clock.
On the far wall.
11:30 PM.
Kartik’s flight must have landed somewhere far from this madness.
Somewhere, he would be walking out of an airport.
Trusting me.
Trusting us.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I looked back at Arjun.
His cock was shrinking now.
Slowly.
The thick, proud organ softening inch by inch — still glistening wet, still flushed from the rush.
His face?
God.
He looked like a boy again.
Lost. Awed. Broken.
But standing there.
For me.
Still calling me anni in his heart, even after everything.
Still worshipping me with his eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And me?
I wasn’t finished yet.
Not fully.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stepped forward.
One slow step.
Another.
Closing the distance.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t dare breathe.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I raised my hand.
Touched his face — softly, fingertips grazing his cheek.
Felt the slight stubble starting to grow under his skin.
Felt the heat of his cheek against my palm.
Then I leaned forward.
Lifted my face.
And kissed him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My first kiss.
Our first kiss.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Not rough.
Not hungry.
Just soft.
Lips touching lips.
A closed-mouth, breathy, shaking kiss.
His lips were dry and cracked.
Mine were still wet — slightly salty from him.
I pressed once.
Held.
Breathed into him.
His whole body shuddered.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I pulled back slowly.
Looked into his eyes.
Smiled a tiny, broken smile.
Whispered:
“Thank you…”
Thank you for obeying.
Thank you for not asking.
Thank you for wanting me.
Thank you for not stopping me when I crossed my own lines.
Thank you for being the boy I never knew I needed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then…
Without another word…
I turned.
Walked away.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
My panty clung between my legs, soaking every step.
My breasts bounced freely with each move, nipples brushing air.
I didn't pick up my saree.
Didn't dress.
Just walked naked but for a soaked panty into my bedroom.
Locked the door.
Leaned against it.
Closed my eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And in the dark…
I felt my own heartbeat pounding between my legs.
Felt the taste of him still lingering on my tongue.
Felt the shame.
Felt the power.
Felt the madness I had allowed to begin.
And somewhere deep inside…
I already knew.
This was not the end.
It was just the beginning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)