Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Rohan's smile widened.
 
He pushed himself up, his movements fluid and graceful despite his recent exertion.
 
He moved towards Neetu, who instinctively shrank back, her hands coming up to her chest as if to shield herself. He stopped, his expression gentle.
 
"Shhh, Neetu," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "It's just me. It's just us. Let me show you."
 
He leaned in slowly, giving her ample time to pull away if she wanted to. She didn't. She was frozen, a deer caught in the hypnotic beam of his headlights.
 
His lips met hers, and it was nothing like the frantic, demanding kisses from earlier. This was slow, deep, and impossibly tender.
 
His lips were soft, coaxing, and he tasted faintly of Anjali and of himself, a heady, primal combination that made Neetu's head spin.
 
He poured all of his affection, all of his gratitude, all of his desire into that one kiss, and Neetu felt herself melting, her apprehension dissolving like sugar in hot tea.
 
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. "Better?" he whispered.
 
She could only manage a shaky nod.
 
"Good," he breathed, and then his gaze dropped to her breasts. "But we're not done yet."
 
He lowered his head, his lips trailing a path of fire down her neck to the sensitive hollow of her throat.
 
Neetu gasped, her head falling back, her body arching instinctively towards him. He kissed his way across her collarbone, his touch light as a feather, sending shivers of pleasure cascading through her.
 
 He took his time, exploring every curve, every dip, with a reverent patience that was both maddening and exhilarating.
 
Finally, his lips found the swell of her breast.
 
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the smooth, sensitive skin, and Neetu whimpered, her hands flying to his hair, her fingers tangling in the thick, dark strands.