Adultery Neighbour sisters use me to fuck

[Haran000]

The lingering scent of Asha's kiss had barely faded when a different kind of warmth ignited between my legs. I pulled a book from my bag, propped it open on a pad, and tried to lose myself in the words. Just then, Nisha emerged from her bath, a vision in a pink T-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs and a pair of denim shorts.

A primal urge seized me, a desire to pounce, to sink my teeth into those exposed thighs. My mind, already softened by her perceived sweetness, reeled from this fresh, intoxicating display. My whole body began to tremble.

"Come on," Nisha's voice cut through my thoughts, "let's go study in my room."

"Why her room now? I'm already burning up," I thought, the heat in my body intensifying. 

"Why, Nisha?" I asked aloud, feigning nonchalance.

"Come on, I'll tell you," she replied, a hint of playful mystery in her tone.

I followed, still clutching the book in front of me, a flimsy shield against my burgeoning desire.

Nisha's room was a sanctuary of order. Everything had its place: a spacious area to one side, a neatly made bed on another, and her MacBook nestled in the right corner. An inexplicable sense of peace settled over me, amplified by the pervasive fragrance of women's perfume – unmistakably Nisha's own.

She gestured for me to sit on the bed, and I complied. She joined me, phone in hand. "Will you take some photos of me?" she asked.

I decided to play the innocent. "Nisha, you shouldn't take photos in this nightdress."

A faint smile touched her lips. "This isn't a nightdress. I'm wearing shorts, that's why you thought that."

I wanted to tell her that girls shouldn't dress like this, with their thighs so brazenly displayed, but the risk of her suspecting my true thoughts was too great. "Okay," I managed.

She shifted, leaning back against the wall with a pillow, facing me with one leg crossed over the other. My gaze fixed on her legs, and the book slipped forgotten to the side. In the intoxicating vision of those milky, sculpted thighs, I forgot my own hardening state.
I glanced at Nisha's face. Her eyes were locked on my crotch, her lips slightly parted, a mix of surprise and a touch of embarrassment flickering in their depths. Yet, I continued my charade of blissful ignorance.

"Ready, teacher?" I asked, a playful glint in my eye.

"Yes, ready. Nisha, not 'teacher.' Where did that come from again?" she chuckled.

"Oh, okay, Nisha," I corrected myself.

She adjusted her T-shirt slightly, then looked at her phone with a smile. My eyes, however, were riveted on her legs, now fully visible on the phone screen as I framed the shots. The sight of her legs, save for the curve of her lower buttocks, sent a tingling sensation through my pants.

I met Nisha's gaze, my expression carefully neutral. Her eyes, however, seemed lost in thought, fixed on me. When I glanced back at the phone screen, I saw that her gaze had strayed, fixated on my erect penis.

I needed to clear her suspicion. "Nisha, look at the camera. What are you looking at down there?"

She looked at me, startled, while I maintained my innocent facade. "Should I take more?" I asked.

"Show me first," she requested.

"Ugh, when she says 'show me,' I feel like taking it out and showing it to her." I shuffled closer, seating myself beside her to show her the photos. My penis pressed against my pants, forming a prominent tent between my thighs. Nisha must have been shocked, but I maintained my mask of indifference.

"How are they?" I asked.

"It looks very long," she murmured.

"What?" I feigned confusion.

She flinched, looking down at her phone.

"Here, this picture is good..." I said, pointing to a photo where one of her legs was folded.
"Yes, it's good," she agreed.

"Well, I'm going to study now," I announced, picking up my book.

"Okay," she replied.

I resumed reading, the book once again resting on my legs. Nisha, I imagined, must be thinking that while my body reacted to a woman's touch, I was simply naive and lacked understanding in that area, hence my normal behavior. This perception, I knew, stemmed from her knowledge of my studious nature, my quiet presence in class, and my habit of sitting in the front row. In such a scenario, it wouldn't be surprising if she considered me innocent. Perhaps Nisha was thinking I lacked worldly knowledge now, and that's exactly what I wanted.

Now, I employed my breathing trick. I took a deep breath, consciously diverting my thoughts, focusing solely on my breath. For a few moments, I pretended to stem the flow of blood, keeping my legs perfectly still. I willed the blood to recede from my penis, to make it lose its hardness. I continued this internal exercise while looking at the book.
"Go get some water," Nisha suddenly said.

"Yeah, I'll bring it," I replied, standing up. Nisha's eyes darted to my thighs, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Haha... I knew it, I thought, she wanted to catch me, that's why she made me stand up.

I walked to the fridge without looking at her, grabbed a bottle, and handed it to her. I avoided her gaze, fearing that a direct look might make it hard again. She continued to talk, and the evening passed in a blur. Eventually, I went home to eat.

It was two o'clock by the time I finished eating and returned to Nisha's place. As I stepped inside, Asha came to meet me.

"Shiva, did you tell your family you're coming to the hospital with me?" Asha asked, pulling me from my daze.

I had completely forgotten. "Oh, I didn't."

"Go tell them and let's go now. I have an appointment at three o'clock," she urged.

"Okay, okay, I'll be right back," I promised, and hurried home.

I told my mom Asha had asked me to come, and she assented. I quickly changed into my pants and returned to Asha's house. She emerged wearing a blue saree, looking beautiful as always. I took her in, from bottom to top, a thought crossing my mind: how wonderful it would be if I could hold her waist and ask for another kiss.

"Did you tell them at home?" Asha asked.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"Come on, let's go," she said.

"Baby?" I inquired, confused about Nikhil.

"Nisha will take care of the baby," Asha replied.

We both stepped out, Asha started the car, and we drove off. I sat silently in the car, glancing here and there. Upon reaching the hospital, Asha went into the doctor's room, and I settled into the waiting area.

About half an hour later, Asha reappeared. I approached her and asked what had happened. She simply said there was no medical bill and that we should go home.

As we drove back, I decided to ask about the real issue. "Nikhil didn't bring you. What happened to you?"

"Nothing happened to me," Asha explained. "I feed Nikhil milk, don't I?"

"Oh..." I mumbled, still not understanding.

"I have too much milk," she clarified.

"Oh, if you have too much, Nikhil can drink a lot, right?" I asked innocently.

Asha laughed. "No, he's a small baby, he can't drink all of it. All my milk is left over, and it spoils my dress."

"Oh, does that happen too?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, it happens to some people," she confirmed.

"So, what did the doctor say?" I pressed.

"The doctor said if Nikhil doesn't drink the milk, my husband should drink it."

"Oh, is that how it is?" I thought, a flicker of doubt crossing my mind. 

Did the doctor really say that, or was Asha telling me this on purpose?

"How does your husband drink it?" I asked, unable to resist.

"The way Nikhil drinks it," she replied.

I laughed, a little too loudly.

"What are you laughing at?" Asha asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Does such a big uncle drink like a small baby?" I questioned, trying to sound amused.

Asha's face clouded with sadness. "Yes, he doesn't drink at all, that's what I'm thinking about..

"So, didn't you ask the doctor for any tablets?" I inquired.

"No, there are no tablets for this, they said there are pumps to extract the milk," she explained.

"Oh, do they have those too? Then take them," I suggested.

"I don't like them. They say they're not good for health," Asha said, dismissing the idea.
"Oh, I see," I replied, a new thought brewing.

She remained silent for a while. As the car went over a speed bump and swayed, Asha's breasts also swayed, and I looked at them, a silent yearning to hold them. Then, I noticed a little wetness accumulating under her breast.

Asha adjusted her pallu, a blush spreading across her cheeks. I didn't know what to say, so I simply thought, "Whatever."

"Your blouse is getting wet," I finally pointed out, my mouth watering at the sight of the dampness.

"Hmm... what can I do? This is my problem," Asha sighed.

"Tell uncle to drink it every night," I suggested, testing the waters.

"He doesn't like milk, that's why I told you earlier he wouldn't drink it," she reiterated.
This was my chance. I had to say something. "What? He doesn't like milk? I'd drink as much milk as you poured, you know how much I like it. My mom buys a small extra packet just for me." As I said that, she looked at me with a little surprise. "Yes, anyway, Uncle is older, so he doesn't drink milk, he drinks tea or coffee. I'm younger, so I drink milk, right?"

"Hmm..." Asha murmured, her gaze lingering on me.

After that, she didn't say a word for fifteen minutes. We reached home. As soon as Asha entered the house, Nikhil was crying for his mother. Asha took him, pacified him, and sat there feeding him milk.

I asked Nisha about tuition, and she told me to come after a while. I left my books on the table, went home, and sat watching Instagram reels. I don't know how much time passed, but Nisha called. I put my phone aside and went.

Nisha asked me to come into her room. Once inside, she looked at me with a mischievous smile.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Let's dance together," she announced.

"What? Don't we have some more problems to solve?" I retorted, still reeling from the earlier events.

Nisha came closer, placed her hand on my shoulder, her breasts now only an inch away from my chest. As she looked at me and smiled, Nisha was getting me excited. "No, I have to study," I insisted, my voice a little shaky.

"Study tomorrow," she whispered, and then took my right hand, placing it gently on her waist. Oh, how warm and soft it felt. If it was like this over the T-shirt, how would it be inside?

"But..." I began.

She placed a finger on my lips, silencing me. She moved closer, her breasts lightly brushing against my T-shirt, and my breathing quickened. My penis was filling with blood, a familiar urgency returning.

"Which song do you like?" she purred.

"Naatu Naatu," I blurted out, the first thing that came to mind.

"Tell me a slow song," she countered.

"I don't know... you tell me," I conceded.

"Now let's do a couple dance. Let's play 'Butta Bomma'," she decided.

"I don't know how to do that," I protested.

"You'll learn it by doing it," she assured me.

"But teacher, please no," I pleaded, still clinging to my feigned innocence.

Her eyes widened, a flash of annoyance in their depths. "Hey, I told you not to call me teacher, why do you keep saying it?"

"Sorry, Nisha," I apologized quickly.

She took my left hand and placed both my hands around her waist, then closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of my touch.

"Nisha..." I whispered.

"Mmmm..." she hummed in response.

"You said we'd dance?" I reminded her.

She opened her eyes again and played "Butta Bomma" on her phone, which was already connected to the nearby home theater. My hands were around her waist, but I wasn't gripping her.

Nisha put her hands on my shoulders and pressed them firmly. "You hold my waist too," she instructed.

I innocently did as told, slowly gripping her waist.

"Mmmm..." she groaned, a soft sound of pleasure.

"Now, you take a step forward, and I'll take a step back, like that, a forward and backward step."

I nodded vertically, our bodies swaying to the music. As we danced, my gaze fixated on her lips. I couldn't control my desire. I squeezed her waist a little with my fingers.

"Aahh..." she stopped, a sharp intake of breath.

"Sorry Nisha, did I hold you too tight?" I asked, immediately loosening my grip.
She took my hands and put them back on her waist. "No, hold me like that," she murmured.

I squeezed her waist on both sides with my hands.

"Aah..." she sighed.

"Okay?" I asked, my voice a little husky.

She didn't say anything, and we continued to dance. As we listened to the music, our feet seemed to move on their own.

"What do you like in women?" Nisha asked, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" I feigned ignorance.

"What do you mean by 'what'? What do you like?" she pressed.

"I don't know..." I stammered.

"Do you like lips, eyes, what do you like like that?" she continued, her voice laced with curiosity.

"I don't think like that," I replied, sticking to my innocent persona.

"Don't you look at women?" she challenged.

"Uh-uh, that's a bad habit," I said, shaking my head.

"Haha, who told you?" she laughed.

"No one told me. You have to respect women, right?" I countered.

She moved closer to my face, her breath brushing against my chin, sending a jolt through me. My penis heated up like a thermometer and poked out. She looked down and laughed, a knowing glint in her eyes. I didn't know what to do, so I simply asked, "Nisha, if you come close like this, it happens. Can you move away?"

She laughed, whether she expected it or not. I certainly hadn't expected her reaction. "It's nothing, you're a boy and I'm a girl, so it happens to you," she said, her voice soft.

"But it hurts," I insisted, my voice tight.

"What? Why would it hurt?" she asked, a hint of concern in her tone.

"Oh, yeah. That's why I said no," I mumbled, playing along.

"If the pain decreases, you should go to the bathroom and do it, it will decrease," she offered.

"I don't need to go to the toilet," I corrected her.

"Not the toilet," she clarified.

"Then what else should I do?" I asked, feigning utter ignorance.

"Don't you know?" she teased.

"No," I replied, curious to see what she would say.

"Oh, don't lie. Haven't you ever held it and played with it?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"No," I lied.

"Really?" she pressed.

"Yes," I affirmed.

"What do you do if it hurts?" she asked.

"I don't do anything. If I take off my pants and sit down, it just goes away," I explained, maintaining my innocent act.

She came close and put her hand on my pants. As she put her hand there, my penis tingled.

"Ah... no, it hurts," I moaned, as if in pain.

She wrapped her left arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "Does it really hurt, Shiva?”

"Please, Nisha, let go, it hurts," I pleaded, my voice strained.

"Should I tell you what to do to reduce the pain?" she asked, her gaze fixed on mine.

"Yes, please tell me," I begged, an internal battle waging within me. 

What was really happening here? I had imagined how difficult this would be, but it was turning out in my favor, I couldn't believe it.

"I'll tell you, but you shouldn't tell anyone that I told you," she whispered conspiratorially.

"No, I won't," I promised.

"Good boy," she smiled. "Tell me, have you ever released anything other than urine?"

"Yes, once something white came out," I confessed, remembering the wet dream.

"How did you feel then?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"I was asleep then, and my underwear was ruined. I threw it out, thinking mom might scold me," I recounted, feigning embarrassment.

"Haha, you did a good job," she laughed.

"Hmm," I grunted.

"Now you have to release that white stuff, otherwise it will hurt like this," she instructed.

"No, I went back to sleep, but it didn't happen again," I countered.

"Not in sleep, you have to do it now, only then the pain will go away," she insisted.

I didn't expect Nisha to trust me so blindly. "Tell me what to do?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Now tell me, what do you like about me?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know," I replied, sticking to my script.

"Oh, not like that. Okay, I'll tell you what to do," she said, a hint of playful impatience in her voice.

"Hmm..." I urged, looking at her intently. She lifted her T-shirt near her waist, revealing her stomach. How beautiful it was, like two crescent moons sitting on either side, and in the middle, a milky white field, and in its center, a small, deep navel. Seeing that, my little guy was jumping with anticipation.

"Take off your pants," she commanded.

"Why?..." I said, feigning nervousness.

"Take it out," she urged.

"Oh no, I'm shy," I protested.

"Okay, your pain, your choice. Let's dance," she said, turning away.

"Oh no," I quickly responded, not wanting to miss this opportunity.

"Then pull your pants down," she instructed.

I pretended to be shy and pulled down my pants and innerwear at the same time, and my penis sprung out.

"Wow... what is this, dear?" Nisha exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment as she stared at my penis.

I pulled back the foreskin of my penis. "Aah... it hurts, tell me what to do, Nisha, please," I pleaded, feigning agony.

Nisha grabbed her T-shirt with her right hand, showing me her waist, and looked at my penis greedily, then quickly grabbed it with her left hand. How soft her fingers were! Oh, it felt so good, I closed my eyes happily and took a deep breath. No, I shouldn't react like this, I need to react differently.

"Aaah... Nisha, no, it hurts," I groaned, trying to sound distressed.

"Hey, don't yell," she whispered, but my shout wouldn't go out, the song was playing, right?
"Please, Nisha, let go," I begged.

She stroked my penis with her fingers and pulled it close. I took a step forward. "Wow, what a thing you have, that's why it hurts you," she marveled.

I laughed inwardly, pretending to be in pain externally.

"Hey, now poke the head of your penis into my navel," she instructed.

I poked my penis into her navel. I don't know how she felt, but my knees were floating in the air.

"Aahh... Mmm..." Nisha moaned.

"Mmm Nisha," I echoed, my voice thick with desire.

"You need to rub your penis up and down on my waist," she instructed.

"Okay, yeah," I gasped, my hands instinctively grabbing her waist on both sides, like two crescent moons. Oh, it felt like holding a soft piece of paneer. I pressed my penis against her waist and rubbed it up and down.

"Mmmm... like that," Nisha groaned, her breath coming in short gasps.

Oh, how soft it was, my little guy was enjoying it so much. As I rubbed my balls, touching them below Nisha's navel, oh, a new pleasure was making my nerves tingle. I couldn't hold back.

"Aah Nisha, something's happening to me, I feel like I need to pee," I moaned, the truth barely disguised.

"That's not pee, don't stop it," she whispered, her voice husky.

My penis was trembling and throbbing from inside. "Mom... aah... it hurts..."

And then I ejaculated my semen onto her navel. It shot out like a fountain, a little on the edges of her T-shirt, and half of it dripped down onto her shorts. I stepped back, panting, completely dazed.

"Did the pain go away?" Nisha asked, her eyes still wide.

"Yes, it did, Nisha, it felt very good," I replied, a wave of satisfaction washing over me.

"Okay, you go outside, I need to change my dress," she instructed, her voice calm again.

I pulled up my pants and went out, my mind reeling. 

I had thought one thing, and another had happened. I had to see what else they would do next.