Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Anjali, ever observant, had seen it too.
 
She had seen the brief grimace on her brother's face, the way his muscles had tensed in a way that had nothing to do with pleasure.
 
She propped herself up on her elbow, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Bhaiya? What is it?"
 
Rohan let out a slow, shaky breath, the sound a mix of frustration and lingering pain. He slowly, carefully, began to withdraw from Neetu's warmth.
 
The movement was deliberate, almost ginger.
 
As he pulled out, Neetu felt a strange, final sensation, and then he was free, kneeling between her legs. He looked down, his gaze fixed on his own still-hard cock.
 
And then Neetu saw it.
 
In the soft, flickering candlelight, she could see the base of his shaft, just above his balls. The skin there was red, irritated.
 
A tiny, angry-looking tear marred the surface of his foreskin, where the tight ring of skin had been brutally stretched and forced back during his initial, frantic entry into her tight, untried pussy.
 
A small bead of blood, dark and vivid against the flushed skin, welled from the tiny wound.
 
The sight of it, the evidence of his pain, of his own first-time sacrifice, sent a shockwave through Neetu. It wasn't just her who had been torn, who had bled for this moment.
 
He had, too. The thought was so unexpectedly intimate, so strangely poignant, that it made her heart clench with a feeling that was far more complicated than mere lust.
 
"Fuck," Rohan muttered, his voice tight with a mixture of pain and embarrassment. He looked away, a flush of shame creeping up his neck. "It's... it's nothing."
 
But it wasn't nothing. Anjali was already moving, shifting closer to inspect the injury.
 
Her touch was gentle, her expression soft with a concern that was purely sisterly, a stark contrast to the predatory lust she had displayed just moments before.