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

[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.