Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Anjali reached over Neetu's inert form, her fingers trailing lightly across the girl's still-trembling stomach, and picked up the discarded die.
 
She didn't need it. The game was a formality, a thin veneer of civility over the raw, animalistic reality of their desires.
 
"I believe it's my turn to win," Anjali announced, her voice a husky whisper that was both a statement and a challenge. She looked at Rohan, her eyes dancing with a conspiratorial fire. "One more round. For the grand prize."
 
Rohan's grin was predatory.
 
He knew exactly what she was doing. He nodded, his gaze flicking down to Neetu, who was slowly, languidly, returning to the world of the living.
 
Her eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, like pools of dark chocolate melted by the sun.
 
"One, two, three... shoot!"
 
Anjali's hand flattened into paper. 

Rohan's, with a deliberate, almost theatrical slowness, formed into scissors.
 
The snipping motion was a silent, gleeful promise.
 
Anjali had won.
 
The game was rigged, the outcome pre-ordained, but in Neetu's pleasure-addled state, it felt like fate.
 
A look of mock-surprise crossed Anjali's face, followed by a sly, triumphant smirk. 

"Well, well. It seems fortune favors the bold." She turned her full attention to Neetu, who was watching them with a dazed, docile expression. "Neetu, my sweet. I have a dare for you."
 
Neetu swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
 
She could still feel the ghost of Rohan's mouth on her, the lingering echoes of her orgasm shimmering through her veins.
 
She was vulnerable, exposed, and utterly at their mercy.
 
The thought should have terrified her, but all she could feel was a fresh, blooming warmth of anticipation.
 
"Rohan just gave you such an incredible gift," Anjali continued, her voice a silken caress. "He worshipped you with his mouth."
 
"He made you feel things you've only ever dreamed of. It's only fair that you return the favor, don't you think?"