Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
 
She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, and then at Neetu, who was watching with wide, hungry eyes. "Watch," she whispered, her voice a husky command. "Watch and learn my dear."
 
With that, she lowered her head, her lips brushing against the head of his erection, leaving a trail of soft, wet kisses that made him groan with pleasure.
 
She could feel the heat of him, the hardness of him, the pulse of his desire, and she smiled, a slow, satisfied smile that spoke of a thousand shared moments, a thousand unspoken promises.
 
She took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him, her tongue swirling around the head of his penis, tasting the salty sweetness of his arousal.
 
He was hot and hard in her mouth, a familiar weight, a familiar taste, a familiar pleasure that made her own body respond with a surge of arousal so intense it was almost painful.
 
She began to move, her lips and tongue working their magic, her head bobbing up and down in a slow, steady rhythm that made him groan with pleasure.
 
She explored every inch of him, every vein, every ridge, with a skill and tenderness that left him breathless.
 
She found the sensitive spot just beneath the head, her tongue circling and stroking it until he was writhing beneath her, his body begging for release.
 
Neetu watched, transfixed, her breath catching in her throat.
 
She could feel a surge of arousal so intense it was almost painful, a liquid heat pooling in her belly and spreading through her veins like wildfire.
 
She had never seen anything so erotic, so intimate, and it was happening right here, right in front of her.
 
She could feel herself growing wetter, her body yearning for the touch she so desperately feared.
 
When Rohan finally cried out, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm, Neetu felt a surge of vicarious pleasure so intense it was almost as if it were her own.