Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Rohan’s hand began to move down once more, exploring the warm expanse of her midriff.
 
A soft sound escaped her lips as her hips shifted in her seat, arching slightly toward his touch.
 
His fingers found the edge of her blouse, tracing the delicate line where fabric met skin.
 
He savored the heat of her, the softness of her flesh, as if memorizing the topography of her body.
 
He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue dueling with hers as his hand found the curve of her waist.
 
He traced the line of her hipbone, his fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of her saree.
 
Then, with a boldness that made her gasp, his fingers climbed the curve of her blouse, finding the soft swell of her breast.
 
For the first time he is touching her breast even over her blouse. He have been waiting for this for a long time.
 
The realization hit him like a physical blow. She wasn't wearing a bra. A slow, wicked smile spread across his face.
 
She had dressed like this for him. She had been anticipating this, wanting this, just as much as he had.
 
He turned his head slightly, catching Anjali's eye. He gave a subtle wink, his gaze flicking down to indicate Mamta's chest.
 
Anjali's lips curved into a knowing, appreciative smile before she turned her attention back to the screen.
 
Neetu, on Anjali's other side, was engrossed in the movie. "What's going on over there?" she asked, leaning around Anjali.
 
"Nothing much, they're just kissing," Anjali replied smoothly, giving Neetu's hand a reassuring squeeze.
 
Rohan's thumb brushed over Mamta's nipple through the sheer fabric of her blouse. 

The lack of a bra gave him direct access, and the nipple pebbled instantly at his touch. 

He could feel her shudder, a full-body tremor of pure sensation.