Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Neetu was lost, a ship caught in a storm of pure sensation.
 
Her hands flew to his hair, her fingers tangling in the thick strands, holding him close, a silent, desperate plea for more.
 
She was moaning continuously now, soft, breathy sounds of pure, unadulterated pleasure that filled the small space of the fort.
 
And then Anjali joined in.
 
She moved to Neetu's side, her naked body a warm, solid weight against her.
 
She leaned in, her lips finding Neetu's in a deep, demanding kiss, swallowing her cries of pleasure.
 
Her hands went to Neetu's breasts, her fingers kneading the soft flesh, her thumbs brushing against the taut, aching peaks of her nipples.
 
Neetu was caught in a sensory overload, a whirlwind of pleasure from all sides. Rohan's mouth on her pussy, his tongue driving her to the brink of insanity.
 
Anjali's mouth on her lips, her hands on her breasts, her touch a symphony of sensation that was pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
 
She was completely lost in her desire, her body a willing, eager participant in their shared sin.
 
She was not able to say anything, not able to think, not able to do anything but enjoy every pleasure her body was receiving.
 
She was a vessel of pleasure, a puppet to their desires, and she was loving every minute of it.
 
The pressure inside her was building, a tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap.
 
Rohan could feel it, the way her body was tensing, the way her moans were becoming more frantic, more desperate.
 
He intensified his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, harder against her clit, his fingers sliding into her tight, wet heat, curling to find that magical spot deep inside her.
 
That was all it took.
 
With a loud, strangled cry, Neetu's world exploded.
 
A wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure, more intense than anything she had ever imagined, washed over her, consuming her, shattering her into a million pieces.