Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Rohan, who had been watching them with a lazy, contented smile, finally stirred.
 
He gently withdrew from Neetu, eliciting a soft, involuntary moan from her lips, and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.
 
He looked at Neetu, his expression a mixture of deep satisfaction and something else, something softer, more tender.
 
"You okay?" he asked, his voice a low, gentle murmur.
 
Neetu turned to face him, her body aching in the most delicious way.
 
She reached out and gently traced the line of his jaw, her touch no longer hesitant, but confident and sure.
 
"I'm more than okay," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "I'm... whole."
 
The word hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
 
It was the truth.
 
She felt whole, complete, as if a missing piece of her had finally been found in this most forbidden of places.
 
Anjali watched them, a knowing, slightly wistful look in her eyes.
 
She was happy for them, truly she was.
 
But a small, sharp pang of something she couldn't quite name pricked at her.
 
She had been the architect of this night, the conductor of their symphony of sin.
 
She had given them this gift, this incredible, life-altering experience.
 
But as she watched them, a new, powerful bond forming between them, she couldn't help but feel a little... left out.
 
She had Rohan's love, his devotion, his body.
 
But she would never have this.
 
She would never be the one he deflowered, the one who claimed his virginity in
 
The sheer, exhaustive pleasure of the night finally claimed them.
 
The tangled limbs and sweat-slicked bodies slowly stilled, their breathing evening out into the deep, rhythmic patterns of sleep.
 
Rohan lay in the middle, an arm dbangd possessively over each girl, a king in his debauched kingdom.
 
Anjali was curled into his side, her head on his chest, her breathing soft and even, a picture of sated contentment.
 
Neetu, on his other side, lay on her back, her limbs sprawled in abandon.
 

Sleep was not a gentle escape for her; it was a turbulent sea where her old innocence drowned and a new, complicated self was born.