Bhenchod: My sister, my lover(Brother-sister)

[Mohit.Kumar]

This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18 years of age.

Plot Summary: Sharan, a young, unmarried engineer, is sent on an official tour to Delhi, where he stays in a modest hotel in Paharganj. His elder sister Rupali, married and sexually repressed, harbors a taboo desire for him, ever since they had sex on his last visit few months ago. When she learns of his stay, she initiates a clandestine affair, leading to a tumultuous season of passion, guilt, and the unravelling of their carefully constructed lives.
 
Characters: -
Sharan: A meticulous engineer in his mid-twenties, who values his career and personal space. He is drawn into a passionate affair with his sister, having fucked her during a previous visit, struggling to reconcile his love for her with the guilt that follows.

Rupali (Rupa): A married woman in her early thirties, Rupa is child less after 7 yrs of marriage, sexually frustrated and seeking solace in the arms of her younger brother. Her desperation leads her to manipulate situations and push boundaries, even though she fears the repercussions of their actions.
 
Hotel Staff: The discreet and somewhat suspicious employees who unwittingly become accomplices to Sharan and Rupa's secret trysts, providing both a sense of excitement and potential danger to their encounters.

Sharan, a 25-year-old engineer with a penchant for order and precision, found himself in the bustling chaos of Delhi for an official tour. The Hotel in Paharganj, though not five-star, provided him with the solace he sought at the end of his tiring work days. He lay on the crisp, white sheets of his hotel bed, feeling the sticky embrace of the city's summer heat seep into his skin. A bead of sweat traced a line down his chest, and he absently wondered how much longer he could endure the swelter before he succumbed to the hum of the air conditioner. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a stark reminder of the world outside his temporary sanctuary.

He glanced at the message, his eyes widening at the sender's name: Rupa, his 32-year-old sister. Married and living in Delhi, she was the embodiment of stability in his otherwise nomadic life. Their bond had always been a tapestry of shared secrets and quiet moments, woven tightly during their childhood. The screen flickered with an unread message, and a thrill of something other than surprise shot through him. It was a simple text, yet the implications were as potent as a bolt of lightning: "Hey, are you busy?"

Sharan swiped his thumb across the screen, typing his reply with a tremble of anticipation. "Just resting. What's up?" He knew it was innocuous enough, but the underlying tension was palpable. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with a silent confession that had been simmering between them for months. Rupali's response was swift, the words a seductive whisper that seemed to caress his mind: "I need you." The heat outside was nothing compared to the inferno that ignited within him at the thought of her.

Memories of their last encounter in this very city flooded back to him, the clandestine affair that had forever changed the contours of their relationship. It had been during one of his previous visits, a trip much like this one. The night had drawn them in, a crescendo of passion that had led them to his hotel room, where they had shed their inhibitions along with their clothes. The scent of jasmine from her hair had filled the space as they had moved together in a dance as old as time, their bodies speaking a language that defied societal norms.

With a grin that was both mischievous and predatory, Sharan punched out a text. "Get your ass over here, sis. I've got a little something for that itch of yours." The words were crude, but they resonated with a raw, carnally charged energy that was as intoxicating as it was illicit. He could almost feel the heat of her blush through the phone screen.

Rupa read the message, her cheeks flushing as she bit her bottom lip. The boldness of his language made her stomach flutter with excitement. "You're a pig," she replied, her voice in the text message dripping with a mix of feigned indignation and arousal. Her heart hammered in her chest as she imagined what awaited her in that hotel room.

Sharan's response was a smirking emoji followed by, "Yeah, but you're the one who enjoys rolling around in the mud with me." His words were as crass as they were accurate, and Rupa felt her resolve to resist crumbling. Her own text was swift and loaded with desire, "Fine. But make it quick, I can't be gone long."

The seconds ticked by, each one a mini-eternity of anticipation. The knock on the door was a symphony of want, echoing through the room and reverberating in his very soul. Sharan's hand was slick with anticipation as he reached for the doorknob, turning it to reveal Rupa in all her garishly adorned glory. She was dressed in a traditional Indian choli and lehenga, the fabric a blend of vibrant reds and golds that screamed of passion and temptation. The makeup she wore was heavy and dramatic, a stark contrast to the natural beauty he knew lay beneath, but it was the look in her eyes that truly set his pulse racing—a blend of hunger and rebellion that was impossible to resist.

"Hello, Saheb," Rupa purred, her voice thick with the seductive lilt of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. "Looking for some company?"

Sharan's eyes raked over her, drinking in the sight of her voluptuous curves, the fabric of her choli tight across her ample breasts, the neckline plunging low to reveal the shadow of her cleavage. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter, his voice low and gruff. "Come in, Rupa. You're dressed like you're looking to get paid for your... talents."

Rupa sashayed into the room, the jingle of her anklets announcing her presence. She twirled around, the skirt of her lehenga flaring out to show a flash of bare midriff and the crimson of her petticoat. "Is that what you think of me, bhai? A cheap whore, ready to sell herself?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief, the challenge in her voice as clear as the ring of a bell.

Sharan's gaze lingered on her, his arousal evident in his tightened grip on the doorframe. "You look the part," he said, his voice a rumble of desire. "But I know the real treasure lies beneath that cheap veneer."

"How did the Hotel guys let you come up to my room?" Sharan asked.

"Oh, I told them I was your masseuse," Rupa replied with a wink, "And judging by the way you're ogling me, I'd say they weren't entirely wrong."

Her witty answer sent Sharan into a bout of uncontrollable laughter.

Sharan chuckled, the sound rich and deep, a stark contrast to the quiet that had pervaded the hotel corridor just moments before. "You always know how to get what you want, don't you?" He closed the door behind her, the click of the lock a declaration of their intentions.

Rupa sailed closer to him, her lehenga rustling like the whispers of a thousand secrets. She placed her hand on his chest, the warmth of her skin seeping through his shirt to his skin. "Only from you," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. Her hand traveled downward, tracing the lines of his abs with a featherlight touch before coming to rest on the bulge in his trousers. "This is what I need," she said, her voice a low, needy purr. 

Their eyes locked, the air thick with unspoken confessions and a yearning that had been festering since their last encounter. His gaze fell to her lips, painted a bold red, and he couldn't resist the urge any longer. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was as fiery as it was forbidden. The taste of her, sweet and spicy from the remnants of the masala she had eaten, sent a jolt of electricity through him.

Her hand on his waist tightened, pulling him closer as she parted her lips, welcoming the warmth of his tongue. The kiss was a battlefield of passion and restraint; each stroke a silent declaration of the love they were never supposed to feel. Rupa's breath hitched, her body responding to the familiar yet illicit touch of her brother. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the fabric of her choli growing damp with the heat of their shared desire.

Breaking the kiss, Rupa took a step back, her hand sliding down to her waist. "Could you get me a drink, behenchod?" she asked, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. The word hung in the air, a naughty endearment that sent a shiver down Sharan's spine. Despite being a teetotaler, he felt a strange thrill at the way she used the term, a stark reminder of their shared secret.

Sharan blinked, the request taking him by surprise. He looked around the room, a sad testament to the hotel's budget constraints. "I'm sorry, Rupa," he said, his voice thick with apology. "This place is a dump. No minibar, no booze."

"No worries, mere behenchod", said Rupa, "Just call room service and ask them to get me a drink"

Sharan nodded, his throat dry from the intensity of their kiss. He picked up the phone and dialled for room service, his hand shaking slightly with desire.

[Mohit.Kumar]

The room was filled with the anticipation of a silent symphony as they waited for the knock on the door that signaled the room service. Rupa took this moment to strip herself of her heavy lehenga, letting it pool at her feet like a discarded shell. Her choli, now uncovered, clung to her sweat-dampened skin, the red fabric a stark contrast to the paleness of her midriff. She kicked off her sandals, the jingle of her anklets the only sound in the room other than their ragged breaths.

The door creaked open, and the room bearer, a young man with a shy smile, stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the sight of Rupa standing there in her revealing attire. Sharan quickly handed him a wad of cash, the unspoken message clear. "Could you get a bottle of whisky and some soda and ice for us?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the room.

Rupa watched the exchange with a knowing smile, enjoying the thrill of the illicitness of their situation. The room bearer's eyes widened slightly at the sum of money exchanged, but he nodded eagerly, the grin never leaving his face as he took the money. "Of course, sir," he said, his gaze flicking to Rupa.

She signaled him to come closer. With big eyes the room bearer tip toed up to her.

Whispering something into the room bearer's ear, Rupa stepped closer to him, her breasts pressing against the thin fabric of her choli. Her words were a secret shared only between them, a promise that lingered in the air like the scent of expensive perfume. The room bearer's grin grew wider, his eyes darkening with understanding. He nodded again, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Without another word, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the corridor, the door clicking shut behind him.

Sharan's eyes narrowed slightly at the interaction, a spark of possessiveness flaring within him. He took a step toward Rupa, his hand reaching out to trace the line of her jaw. "What did you tell him?" he asked, his voice a low growl of curiosity.

Rupa leaned into his touch, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just a little extra something for his troubles," she replied, her voice a purr that seemed to wrap around him like a silken noose. "It's all part of the game, bhai."

Sharan felt a strange cocktail of emotions—jealousy, anger, and arousal—at the thought of his sister using her charms to manipulate the hotel staff. Yet, he knew it was part of the thrill she sought, the danger of discovery that made their encounters so potent. He stepped closer to her, his hand sliding down to cup her breast through the fabric of her choli. The weight of it in his palm was intoxicating, the nipple pebbling beneath his touch. "Is this what you had in mind?" he murmured, his thumb tracing circles around the sensitive peak.

Rupa's eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping her lips as she leaned into his touch. "Always," she breathed. "But you know what I really want."

Sharan's mouth claimed hers once again, the kiss a heady mix of desire and need that left them both gasping for breath. Their tongues danced together, a sensual tango that spoke of the years of longing and repression that had led them to this moment. Her hands slid up his back, her nails digging into his flesh, the pain only serving to fuel the fire that raged within him. His hand on her breast grew bolder, his thumb brushing against the rigid peak, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

Breaking away from the kiss, Sharan looked into Rupa's eyes, his own dark with lust. "Dance for me," he said, his voice a rough command. Rupa stepped back, a slow, sultry smile spreading across her face as she reached for her phone. She flicked through the playlist, her eyes gleaming as she selected a particularly raunchy Hindi number, the beat heavy and laden with innuendo.

The music filled the room, the bass thumping through the floorboards as Rupa began to sway to the rhythm. The choli, already scandalously revealing, clung to her breasts as she moved, the fabric straining with every movement. She rolled her hips, her bare midriff undulating in a way that made Sharan's mouth water. His eyes were riveted to the sliver of her waist, the way it curved into her green cotton panty.

Rupa's dance grew more brazen as the lyrics grew more explicit. Her eyes never left Sharan's, holding his gaze as if daring him to look away. The air grew thick with the scent of her arousal, mingling with the sweet scent of her jasmine perfume. Her words were a filthy litany of desires and suggestions, each one more scandalous than the last. "Look at me, bhai," she murmured, . "Tell me what you want."

[Mohit.Kumar]

Sharan could feel the blood pounding in his veins, his eyes never leaving hers as she danced. He watched the way her choli clung to her dampened skin, the way her panty hugged the curve of her ass, and the seductive sway of her hips. Her every move was a declaration of her desire for him, a silent invitation that he found impossible to resist. He reached out, his hand snaking around her waist to pull her closer, his thumb brushing the edge of her choli. "Keep dancing," he breathed, his voice a rough whisper. "Let me see what I've been missing."

The music grew louder, the lyrics of the song a sultry backdrop to their illicit dance. Rupa's breasts bounced with the rhythm, her nipples pebbled and visible through the red fabric. She leaned back, her hand coming up to cover one of her breasts, teasing him with a glimpse of the flesh beneath. "You like what you see, bhenchod?" she asked, her voice a low purr that made his cock throb.

Sharan's eyes were dark with lust as he nodded, his hand tightening on her waist. "Keep going," he said, his voice hoarse. "Show me what you've been hiding from your husband." The words were crude, but they sent a thrill through Rupa, a thrill of rebellion and power. She knew her brother craved the taboo, the taste of something that was not meant for him.

With a wink, Rupa turned up the volume on her phone, the bass of the Hindi song thumping through the air like a heartbeat. She began to dance for him, her hips moving in a way that was both innocent and obscene. Her choli was soaked with sweat, the red fabric clinging to her body like a second skin, revealing the outline of her areolae. The neckline of her choli had slipped even further, exposing the swell of her left breast, the nipple a hard peak that seemed to call out to him.

Sharan could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging for release. He leaned against the wall, watching her with a hunger that was almost feral. His eyes never left her body as she moved, her green cotton panty riding up to reveal the curve of her ass. The way she talked to him, the filthy words that fell from her lips like pearls of desire, only served to heighten the erotic tension in the room.

Rupa knew she had him in the palm of her hand, and she reveled in it. She danced closer, her breasts brushing against his chest, the friction of the fabric against his skin sending bolts of pleasure through him. Her hand slid down to his crotch, her fingers tracing the length of him through his trousers. "Is this what you want?" she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. "You want to fuck your own sister?"

Sharan's breath hitched, his heart racing at the raw, unfiltered words. He knew it was wrong, but the heat between them was too intense to ignore. He nodded, his voice a gruff murmur. "Yes," he said, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, his thumb tracing the crease between her cheeks. "I want you, Rupa."

With a wild growl of passion, Rupa pushed him backward, her hand on his chest as she propelled him onto the bed. He landed with a thud, his eyes never leaving hers. She unzipped his trousers, her movements swift and sure. The sight of her, dressed in nothing but her choli and panty, her hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall of desire, was almost too much to bear.

Sharan watched, his breath ragged, as Rupa knelt before him. She took his cock in her hand, the warmth of her skin like a brand against his own. He groaned, the sound a confession of his need. She stroked him, her movements deliberate and teasing, her eyes never leaving his. The room was a cocoon of desire, the outside world forgotten in the face of their shared transgression.

With a flick of her tongue, she tasted the bead of precum that had formed at the tip of his cock. It was a declaration of intent, a promise of what was to come. She took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his length like a warm, velvet vice. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that made his toes curl. He felt the pressure build, his hips rising off the bed as she deep-throated him, her cheeks hollowing with each bob of her head.

Rupa's eyes were closed, lost in the moment as she worked him with a passion that was both fiery and reverent. Her hand massaged his balls, her thumb tracing the sensitive ridge beneath, adding an extra layer of ecstasy to the already mind-numbing sensations. Sharan's fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her, urging her on. The sounds of her moans and the wet, suckling noises she made filled the room, a symphony of carnality that seemed to drown out the world outside.

Her head bobbed up and down in a rhythm that was both mesmerizing and erotic. She knew just how to touch him, just how to suck him to make him moan with pleasure. It was as if she had unlocked the secrets to his soul through the intimate dance of her mouth on his cock. Each stroke of her tongue was a declaration of her love, each pull of her cheeks a silent vow of devotion. Her hand slid down to cup his ass, her nails digging into his flesh as she took him deeper, her throat constricting around him.

Sharan's eyes rolled back in his head, his hips bucking in time with her movements. He could feel his climax approaching, a wave of pleasure that threatened to drown him. Yet, even as he neared the edge, he was acutely aware of the wrongness of their act, the taboo that made it all the more exhilarating. The guilt was a dark undercurrent, a thrill that added a hint of danger to the sweetness of their shared sin.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Rupa, however, seemed to be lost in a world of pure sensation. Her eyes were closed, her full, red lips stretched around his cock as she worked him with a skill that belied her years of repression. Her hand moved in tandem with her mouth, her fist tight and rhythmic, her thumb teasing the sensitive spot just below the head. She could feel him swelling in her mouth, the veins in his cock pulsing with each beat of his heart, and she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him—at her mercy.

The sound of her own moans was music to Sharan's ears as she took him deeper, her throat working around his length, her tongue swirling around the tip. The sight of his sister on her knees before him, her mouth full of his cock, was almost too much to handle. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his hips bucked involuntarily, driving himself further into her mouth.

Her cheeks hollowed as she took him in, her eyes watering slightly with the effort, but never breaking the rhythm. The wet sounds of her saliva mixing with his pre-cum filled the room, a symphony of desire that seemed to crescendo with every beat of his racing heart. Rupa's hand massaged his balls, her nails lightly grazing the sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

Sharan's breath grew ragged as he watched the erotic display before him, the sight of his sister's painted red nails contrasting with the pale flesh of her hand as she stroked him. Her eyes remained closed, her head bobbing in a silent mantra of pleasure. He could feel his orgasm building, a crescendo that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Her tongue danced around the tip of his cock, the softness of it sending shivers down his spine. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaving with each breath she took, her breasts straining against the damp fabric of her choli. Sharan's hand found its way to her hair, gently guiding her movements, his hips rising to meet her eager mouth. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a heady mix of love, lust, and the sweet agony of the forbidden.

Rupa felt his cock thicken in her mouth, his breathing growing more erratic. She knew he was close, could feel it in the tension that thrummed through his body, the way his hand tightened in her hair. She redoubled her efforts, her mouth moving faster, her tongue flicking against the sensitive underside of his shaft. Her own arousal was a wet ache between her thighs.

Sharan's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto hers as she worked him with a fervor that was both fierce and loving. The sight of her, so devoted to his pleasure, was almost too much to bear. He could feel the heat of her breath against his skin, the way her eyes shone with a hunger that was both animalistic and tender. It was a look that spoke of a love that transcended the boundaries of brother and sister, a bond that was forged in the fires of taboo and need.

The knock on the door was like a gunshot in the quiet of the room, the sudden intrusion jolting them out of their reverie. Rupa's eyes widened in panic, her hand still wrapped around his cock, her mouth hovering just above it. She pulled away, her cheeks flushed, her breathing ragged. "What if it's my husband?" she whispered, her voice tight with fear.

[Mohit.Kumar]

The knock on the door was like a gunshot in the quiet of the room, the sudden intrusion jolting them out of their reverie. Rupa's eyes widened in panic, her hand still wrapped around his cock, her mouth hovering just above it. She pulled away, her cheeks flushed, her breathing ragged. "What if it's my husband?" she whispered, her voice tight with fear.

Sharan chuckled darkly, his own arousal not even slightly dampened by the thought. "Then he'll know you've been a very naughty girl," he said, his voice a low rumble of amusement. He zipped up his pants, the sound a stark reminder of their hastily concealed desire.

The knock grew more insistent, the room bearer's voice muffled through the thick wood of the door. "Room service, sir," he called out.

Sharan's hand slammed down on the power button of the phone, silencing the music that had been the soundtrack to their illicit dance. He zipped up his trousers with a swiftness that belied the tumult of his thoughts. Rupa hastily pulled her choli back in place, tugging at the neckline to cover her exposed breast. They exchanged a look that was a silent agreement to keep their secret, the flame of their passion still burning bright in their eyes.

The room service attendant's voice grew louder, the urgency in his tone a reminder of the precariousness of their situation. Rupa's hand was shaking as she picked up the hem of her lehenga, stepping into it with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly under the circumstances. The fabric whispered around her ankles, the gold embroidery shimmering in the dim light as she straightened it over her hips. "Answer the door," she hissed, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

Sharan stumbled over to the door, his mind racing with the possible consequences of their actions. He took a deep breath, willing his body to calm, his hand steadying on the doorknob. "Just a moment," he called out, his voice a poor imitation of calm. He opened the door a crack, the cool air of the corridor a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered in the room.

The room bearer looked slightly surprised to see him, his gaze darting to the bed and then back to Sharan's flushed face. The young man's eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene, but he said nothing, his professionalism a silent shield. He stepped inside, placing the bottle of whisky, the ice bucket, and the soda on the small table by the window. The clink of the ice and the clatter of the bottle and glasses seemed deafening in the tense silence.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Rupa watched from the bed, her eyes dark with unspoken desires, her breath shallow. The room was suffocating hot, the air thick with the scent of their shared lust. Her choli was still askew, and she made no move to adjust it, the sight of her bare midriff and the promise of her body beneath a silent invitation that was as potent as the whisky on the table.

The room bearer's eyes lingered on her for a fraction of a second longer than was necessary, his cheeks reddening at the sight of her. He cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the floor as he shuffled his feet nervously. Sharan felt a flicker of possessiveness, his hand itching to pull her closer, to claim her as his own. Instead, he nodded curtly, his eyes never leaving the young man's face. "Thank you," he said, his voice tight with restrained passion.

The room bearer, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air, handed Rupa a paper covered package with a shy smile. "Madam," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is what you ordered"

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she took the package from his outstretched hand. The weight of it was familiar, the shape a tantalizing mystery that sent a jolt of excitement through her. She glanced at Sharan, who was busy straightening the bedcovers, his back to them, and then back to the room bearer. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice thick with a desire that was anything but innocent.

The young man's gaze held hers for a beat longer than was necessary before he looked away, a shy smile playing on his lips. He knew what was in the package, the secret they shared, and it was all Rupa could do not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She had always been the good girl, the one who did as she was told, the one who never stepped out of line. Yet here she was, in a hotel room with her brother, receiving a delivery that was as illicit as the desires that coursed through her veins.

Her eyes never left the room bearer as she took the package, her hand brushing against his as she claimed her prize. The spark of electricity that passed between them was almost palpable, a silent promise of what was to come. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice seemed to resonate in the very air around them.

The room bearer's cheeks grew even redder, his eyes lingering on the swell of her breasts, the fabric of her choli straining against the soft flesh. He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor as he took a step backward. "Is there anything else, madam?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Rupa's smile grew wicked, the thrill of the moment a potent aphrodisiac. "No, that will be all," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "But if you're ever looking for a little... extra work, you know where to find me."

The room bearer's eyes lit up, the promise in her words as tantalizing as the candy that lay on her tongue. He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Yes, madam," he managed, his voice cracking slightly. "I'll... I'll remember that."

With a wink, Rupa leaned in, her arms wrapping around the young man's neck. She pulled him into a hug that was far more intimate than any he had ever received in the course of his duties. His body stiffened, unsure of how to react to the sudden turn of events. Then, she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, her lips brushing against the stubble that lined his jaw. The scent of her perfume, sweet and exotic, filled his nostrils, making his head swim.

[Mohit.Kumar]

The room bearer's heart raced in his chest, the feel of her body against his, a revelation of warmth and softness. His arms encircled her waist instinctively, pulling her closer, and for a brief moment, it was as if the entire world had ceased to exist outside the four walls of the hotel room. Sharan watched from the bed, his cock still hard and pulsing with the need for release. The sight of his sister, so brazenly flirting with the young man, was a strange mix of anger and arousal.

As Rupa pulled away from the room bearer, she held his gaze, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Remember, if you're ever lonely," she whispered, her voice a caress that seemed to echo in the silence that followed. The young man nodded, his eyes wide with the promise of future encounters. He stepped back, his gaze lingering on her one last time before he turned and fled the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

Sharan stared at her, his mind racing with a tumult of emotions. "What the fuck was that?" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

Rupa's eyes sparkled with mischief, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Oh, come on," she said, her voice a soft purr. "It's just a little game, bhai. You know I can't resist teasing you."

Sharan's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. "It's not a game," he said, his voice a low growl. "What if he tells someone?"

Rupa shrugged, the fabric of her choli shifting with the movement, revealing the soft curve of her shoulder. "What's the worst that could happen?" she challenged, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Besides, it's not like we're going to let him in on our little secret, are we?"

Sharan's eyes narrowed, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. "This isn't a game, Rupa," he repeated, his voice a low warning growl. "This is our life we're playing with."

Rupa stepped closer to him, her breasts swaying gently with the movement. She placed a hand on his chest, her touch feather light but firm. "We're not playing, Sharan," she said, her voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate through him. "This is real. This is us, together."

Her hand slid downward, her fingers dancing over the bulge in his trousers. "Don't you want this?" she asked, her eyes searching his. The heat in the room was palpable, the air thick with the scent of their desire.

Sharan's breath hissed through his teeth, his body betraying the tumult of emotions that warred within him. He knew it was wrong, that they were playing with fire, but the flames of passion were too intense to ignore. His hand covered hers, his grip firm, his need too great to deny. "Always," he murmured, his voice a hoarse admission of his hunger for her.

With a knowing smile, Rupa stepped closer, her body pressing against his, her heat searing through the fabric that separated them. She reached up, her hand cupping the side of his face, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "Then let's not wait," she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Sharan's hand trembled as he took the packet from her, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.  "What's this?" he asked, his voice hoarse with need.

Rupa's smile was like a secret shared between lovers, a knowing look that promised untold delights. "Why don't you find out?" she teased, taking a step back to give him space to open it.

With trembling fingers, Sharan ripped open the packet to reveal a five-pack set of Kohinoor ribbed condoms. The sight of them sent a thrill through his body, a physical manifestation of the illicit pleasure they were about to share. The box was a stark red, the color of passion, with gold embossed lettering that glinted in the dim light of the room. The condoms inside were a sleek black, the ribbing a tantalizing promise of the sensations to come.

He took one out, the latex feeling cool and slightly sticky in his hand. Rupa's eyes followed the movement, her own desire ramping up a notch at the sight of the condom. "You know," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to dance along his spine, "those ribs are for my pleasure."

Without a word, Sharan's hands went to his shirt, the fabric sticking to his sweat-dampened skin. He yanked it over his head with a ferocity that sent buttons flying, his eyes never leaving hers. The air in the room was charged with a tension that could have powered the entire city, the anticipation a living entity that pulsed between them.

With a swiftness that defied his earlier hesitation, Sharan stepped out of his pants, kicking them aside. His boxers were next, the elastic snapping against his thighs as he yanked them down. His cock sprang free, standing tall and proud, a testament to his arousal. The cool air of the hotel room kissed his bare flesh, sending a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

He approached Rupa with a predatory stride, his eyes dark with a hunger that could no longer be contained. He grabbed her by the neck, his grip firm but not painful, and pulled her in for a kiss that was as brutal as it was passionate. Her eyes went wide with surprise, then fluttered shut as she melted into him, her body responding to the primal demand of his touch. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from her, and he took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of her mouth.

The taste of her was a drug, a heady cocktail of sweetness and fire that made his senses swim. Her hands came up to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she pressed herself against him, her breasts flattening against his chest. The fabric of her choli was damp with her desire, the red of the fabric stark against the pallor of her skin. He felt her pulse racing under his fingertips, a silent confession of her need for him.

The kiss grew more brutal, their teeth clashing, tongues dueling as if in battle. Each breath was a shared gasp of need, their mouths devouring each other in a frenzy of passion that seemed to consume them both. Rupa's hand slid down to his waist, her fingers tracing the muscles of his stomach before sliding lower, her grip tightening around his cock. She stroked him, her touch featherlight, her movements deliberate and slow, driving him to the edge of madness.

Sharan groaned, his grip on her neck tightening slightly, his other hand reaching up to cup her face, angling it so he could deepen the kiss even further. His thumb brushed against the soft skin of her cheek, his calloused touch a stark contrast to the silkiness of her flesh. Her pulse hammered under his touch, the beat matching the erratic rhythm of his own heart. He could feel her breath hitch in her chest, her body responding to his every touch.

Her hand on his cock grew bolder, her strokes longer and more deliberate, her thumb circling the swollen head with a touch that was both tender and maddening. He knew she was teasing him, pushing him closer to the edge, and he reveled in it. The feel of her skin, her scent, the way her body melded to his, it was all a symphony of sensation that played havoc with his senses. He wanted to devour her, to claim her in a way that would leave no doubt in anyone's mind that she was his.

[Mohit.Kumar]

They broke apart, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Rupa's pupils were dilated with lust, her lips red and swollen from his kisses. Sharan's chest heaved with the effort of controlling his desire, his hand still on her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. The air was thick with the scent of their passion, the room a cocoon of heat and need.

With a swift movement, he reached behind her, his hand deftly untying the knot that held her choli in place. The fabric fell away, revealing her pert, 34C breasts, the areolas dark and erect, begging for his touch. Rupa's eyes never left his as he took in the sight of her, his gaze a caress that made her skin prickle with anticipation.

Her breasts were a masterpiece, the creamy mounds perfectly rounded, the brown tips standing tall and proud, begging for his mouth. He cupped one in his hand, feeling the weight of it, the softness giving way to the firmness of her erect nipple. His thumb brushed against it, eliciting a gasp from her, and he watched with a dark thrill as it pebbled under his touch.

Sharan's gaze roved over her exposed flesh, his eyes devouring every inch of her. The sight of his sister's naked body was a heady mix of familiarity and forbidden lust, the curves and valleys that he had only ever seen hidden beneath layers of fabric now laid bare before him. His cock twitched in response.

Rupa watched him, her own desire reflected in the dark depths of his eyes. She knew he was fighting the urge to take her, to claim her in the most primal of ways, but she also knew that she had the power to make him submit. "Fuck me, bhenchod," she crooned, the words rolling off her tongue like a sweet, seductive mantra.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Sharan's grip on her face tightened, his thumb moving to trace the curve of her bottom lip. "You're playing with fire," he murmured, his voice a low, warning growl that sent shivers down her spine.

 

Rupa's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I like it hot," she whispered, her hand sliding down to his cock again, her grip firm and demanding. She stroked him, her movements deliberate and slow, her eyes never leaving his. The tension between them was a tangible force, a pulsing, living thing that grew stronger with every shared glance.

 

Sharan felt his resolve crumbling, his body aching for the release she offered. He couldn't help but think of the room bearer, the way he had looked at Rupa with such hunger. The thought of another man's eyes on her body, the idea that she might have given in to that desire, made his blood boil with a possessiveness that was as fierce as it was irrational. He knew he had to claim her, to remind her that she belonged to him and only him.

 

Sharan's hand slid down her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her collarbone, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. His other hand found her bare waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, pulling her closer until their bodies were a mere whisper apart. He could feel the heat of her skin, the rapid beat of her heart against his chest.

 

With a groan that was more animal than human, he yanked her closer, his mouth descending to claim one of her ripe, brown nipples. He sucked on it, his tongue flicking the sensitive peak, drawing a gasp from her. Rupa arched into him, her hand fisting in his hair, holding him to her as if she never wanted to let go. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of pleasure and pain that made her knees wobble.

 

Her hand slid down his back, her nails digging into the muscles that rippled beneath his skin. She felt the tension in him, the barely restrained power that she had unleashed, and it thrilled her.

Rupa stepped back, breaking the kiss. She took a moment to appreciate the look of hunger in her brother's eyes before she reached down to her waist, her fingers fumbling with the delicate gold ties that held her lehenga in place. With a swift motion, she loosened the skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of vibrant color. She now stood before him in nothing but her plain green panties, the stark contrast highlighting the swell of her hips and the softness of her thighs.

 

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the condom, her breath hitching as she tore it open. The crinkling sound of the foil seemed to echo through the room, a stark reminder of the gravity of what they were about to do. She took it out, the latex feeling cold and foreign in her hand. Her eyes never left Sharan's as she held it up between them, her heart racing with anticipation and fear.

 

He watched her, his own hand moving to cover hers, his thumb brushing against the condom. "Are you sure?" he murmured, the question laced with a need that was as potent as it was raw.

 

Rupa's smile was a seductive curve of her lips. "Of course, bhenchod," she purred. "You don't want to get me pregnant, do you?"

 

[Mohit.Kumar]

The crude words hung in the air like a dark promise, a reminder of the forbidden nature of their relationship. Sharan took the condom from her trembling hand, his own shaking slightly as he rolled it onto his erection. The latex stretched over his length, a barrier that was both necessary and maddening. He wanted to feel her bare, to claim her in a way that was as natural as breathing, but he knew the risks that came with such a reckless act.

 

He stepped closer, his hand sliding down to her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. Rupa's eyes widened with anticipation, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, the fabric straining against the swell of her hips. With a swift motion, he yanked them down, revealing her neatly trimmed mound, the plump folds of her sex glistening with arousal.

 

Her eyes never left his as she sank to her knees, the plush carpet cushioning her fall. Sharan's hand remained on her neck, his grip firm, his thumb caressing the delicate skin of her throat. She looked up at him, her pupils blown with lust, her mouth a perfect 'O' of need.

 

With one swift motion, Sharan positioned himself in front of her, his condom covered cock jutting out, demanding her attention. Rupa leaned in, her breath hot against the head of his shaft, her eyes fluttering closed in anticipation. The tip of her tongue darted out, a sultry tease that made him hiss through his teeth. He watched as she took him in her mouth, her lips closing around his girth, the heat of her mouth enveloping him in a warm, wet embrace.

 

Her head bobbed up and down, her movements slow and deliberate, as she took him deeper and deeper. Sharan's eyes rolled back in his head, the pleasure of her mouth on him almost too much to bear. He could feel the muscles in her throat contract as she swallowed him, her saliva coating his length, making every stroke more pleasurable. His hand tightened in her hair, guiding her, setting the pace. He knew he was close, his hips bucking involuntarily as she hit that spot that made him see stars.

 

With a sudden jolt of reality, he pulled out, the need to be inside her too great to ignore any longer. He turned her around, his eyes devouring the sight of her naked back, the curve of her spine, the swell of her ass. Rupa looked over her shoulder, her eyes dark with lust, her cheeks flushed with arousal. She knew what was coming, could feel the anticipation building inside her like a storm about to break.

 

Sharan's hand slid down her back, his fingertips tracing the path from her shoulder to the base of her spine. His thumb brushed against the sensitive skin just above her ass, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through her. Rupa moaned, arching her back, her body begging for his touch. He obliged, his hand sliding down to cup her firm cheek, his fingers squeezing gently, eliciting a whimper from her.

 

With a gentle push, he bent her , her breasts pressing into the coolness of the floor. Her breath hitched as she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, his mouth closing over the soft skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder. She shivered, her knees almost giving out as he kissed his way down her spine, his tongue tracing the path his thumb had just taken.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Sharan's hand slid down to the juncture of her thighs, his fingers teasing the wetness between her legs. He groaned, his own desire ramping up at the feel of her slickness. He slid one finger into her, the sound of her wetness echoing in the quiet room. Rupa's body tensed, her back arching as he began to pump his finger in and out of her, his movements slow and deliberate.

 

He watched as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes squeezed shut, her cheeks flushed with passion. She was so wet for him, her body begging for more, and he was more than willing to oblige. His hand moved to her clit, his thumb circling the swollen nub with a gentle but firm pressure that had her bucking against him. The tension in the room grew with each stroke, the air thick with the sound of their heavy breathing.

 

Rupa's moans grew louder, her body writhing under his touch. She could feel herself building, the pressure inside her growing with every stroke of his thumb, every push of his finger. She was so close, so very close to the edge of release, and she knew that when she fell, she would take him with her.

 

Her hand reached back, her fingers finding his cock, still slick from her mouth. She stroked him, her movements matching the rhythm of his own, the friction of her hand against the latex an exquisite torture that had them both panting with need. Sharan groaned, his hips jerking, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirrored reflection of the floor-length windows that made up one wall of the hotel room.

 

With a swift movement, he positioned himself behind her, the tip of his cock nudging at the entrance to her pussy. Rupa's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as he pushed in, the resistance giving way to the insistent pressure of his need. He was thick, and it had been so long since she'd felt this kind of fullness.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Her nails scbangd against the carpet, her body tensing as he filled her, inch by inch, his movements slow and deliberate. The condom was a barrier, a necessary evil that allowed them to indulge in their darkest desires without consequence. Sharan's hand slid down her spine, his fingers reaching around to toy with her clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bud as he began to thrust into her.
 
Rupa's eyes closed, her moans turning into a litany of filthy words that seemed to hang in the air, a testament to the carnality of their union. "Fuck me, bhenchod," she whispered, her voice a hoarse rasp that seemed to strip him bare. "Harder."
 
Sharan's eyes narrowed, his own passion spiking at her words. He slammed into her, the sound of their flesh colliding echoing through the room. His hand on her neck tightened, his hips moving with a force that was almost violent in its intensity. Her body moving in time with his, a symphony of passion that was as raw as it was beautiful.
 
"Yes, bhenchod," she gasped, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."
 
The room was filled with the sound of their skin slapping together, the wet, slick sounds of their bodies moving in a rhythm that was as old as time itself. Rupa's breasts bounced with every thrust, the sight of them a visual feast that had Sharan's eyes glazed over with lust. His hand left her clit to grip her hip, his fingers digging into the flesh as he drove into her with a ferocity that was almost punishing.
 
"Oh, bhenchod," she moaned, her voice a sweet symphony of filth that only served to drive him deeper. "You feel so good."
 
Sharan's breath was hot against her neck, his teeth nipping at her earlobe as he pounded into her from behind. "You like that, don't you, behena?" he grunted, the words thick with lust.
 
Her response was a garbled cry, a mix of pleasure and pain as his cock hit the spot deep within her that made her see stars. "Yes, bhenchod," she whispered, the word a declaration of her complete surrender to him. "More."
 
Sharan's strokes grew more powerful, his hips slamming into her with a force that had her breasts bouncing, her ass slapping against his thighs. His hand moved from her neck to her hip, his grip bruising, his other hand reaching around to squeeze her breasts, his thumb flicking her nipples. The sting of pain was a sweet release, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.
 
"Take it, Rupa," he grunted, his voice harsh with need. "Take all of me."
 
Her walls stretched around him, accommodating his thickness, the sensation of fullness making her feel complete. She pushed back against him, meeting each thrust with a wanton arch of her hips. The word "bhenchod" fell from her lips like a prayer, a declaration of the darkest, most primal need that surged through her body. It was a word that should have been a curse, but in this moment, it was a declaration of love and lust, a symbol of the forbidden bond brother & elder sister shared.
 
Their movements grew erratic, driven by a desperation that had been building since the moment she'd stepped into the room. The scent of their mingling arousal filled the air, a heady aphrodisiac that intoxicated them both. Sharan's eyes never left hers in the reflection of the windows, the sight of her pleasure his sole focus, his sole aim. The muscles in his arms flexed, his hand sliding down to cup her mound, his thumb pressing down on her clit, increasing the tempo of his assault.
 
Rupa's breath grew ragged, her moans turning into sobs as she felt herself teetering on the edge of climax. Her body was a maelstrom of sensation, each thrust of his cock pushing her closer and closer to the brink. She could feel her pussy clenching around him, her muscles spasming with the need for release. "Bhenchod," she screamed, the word torn from her chest as if by some unseen force. "I'm going to come."
 
Sharan's thrusts grew even more frenzied, his own climax a beast that roared within him, demanding to be set free. He could feel the tension building in his balls, the pressure that signaled his impending release. "Come for me," he grunted, his hand tightening on her hip, his thumb pressing down harder on her clit. "Come on my cock."
 
Rupa's body responded to his command, her pussy clenching around him as she screamed out her release. Her orgasm was a crescendo of pleasure, a wave that crashed over her, leaving her trembling and gasping for breath. Sharan's thrusts grew more erratic, his own release now imminent.
 
Her climax hit her like a bolt of lightning, a jolting sensation that seemed to radiate from her core outward. Her pussy spasmed around his cock, her walls tightening in a desperate grip that had him groaning with the effort to hold back his own orgasm. She could feel her juices flooding the condom, her body's response to the pleasure he gave her a testament to the power of their taboo union.
 
Rupa's eyes squeezed shut as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her, her body shaking with the force of it. She could feel her breasts jiggle against the floor, the sensation of his hand on her clit a constant reminder of the exquisite torment he inflicted. Her cries grew louder, her voice hoarse with passion, each syllable of "bhenchod" a declaration of her submission to the fierce pleasure that claimed her.
 
Sharan watched in the mirror, his eyes dark with desire, as her body convulsed around his cock. Her pussy was a tight, wet vice, each spasm sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. He felt the beast of his climax stirring, his balls tightening, the base of his spine tingling with the anticipation of release. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to come, wanting to prolong the exquisite torture, wanting to feel her come again and again.
 
With a grunt of effort, he pulled out, the sound of their bodies parting a stark contrast to the symphony of passion that had filled the room moments before. Rupa whimpered, her body already craving the fullness of him inside her again. He knelt behind her, his hand still working her clit, his thumb now slick with their combined juices. His other hand slid down her body, his fingers sliding through her wetness, before pressing against her anus, feeling the tightness there.
 
Her eyes went wide in the mirror, the surprise only adding to the intense sensations that flooded her. She'd never been taken there before, and the thought of her brother being the first sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. She felt his finger push against her, the pressure building, and she bit her lip, the pain mixing with the pleasure until she wasn't sure where one ended and the other began.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Sharan's hand was slick with her juices, and he used them to ease his way into her ass. He watched her face in the reflection, the way her eyes fluttered and her cheeks flushed, the way she panted and whimpered with every inch of his penetration.

 

He slid his thumb back to her clit, resuming his merciless circles, the dual sensation making Rupa's eyes roll back in her head. She had never felt anything like this before, the mix of pleasure and pain, the fullness of his index finger in her ass and the teasing promise of his cock against her slick pussy. It was overwhelming, and she didn't know if she could handle it. But she didn't want it to stop.

 

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as Sharan began to push his finger deeper into her ass. She could feel her body stretching, the tight ring of muscle giving way to his insistent pressure. It burned, a delicious ache that she couldn't get enough of. Her hand reached back, her nails digging into the flesh of his thigh, urging him on. "More," she gasped, her voice a desperate plea.

 

He complied, his finger sliding in and out of her with a steady rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of sensation through her body. Rupa's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure as she felt her climax building once again. The sensation of his thumb on her clit, his finger in her ass, the pressure and the fullness, it was too much, and yet it wasn't enough. She needed more, needed him deeper, harder, filling every inch of her.

 

Sharan watched her in the mirror, his eyes hooded with lust, his breath coming in short pants as he worked her body. He could feel his own climax building, his cock pulsing with the need to be inside her. He knew he couldn't last much longer, but he wanted her to come again first, wanted to see her shatter beneath his touch. His finger in her ass moved faster, the pressure increasing, his thumb never ceasing its relentless assault on her clit.

 

Rupa's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort to hold on. She felt herself spiraling out of control, the pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. She pushed back against his hand, her hips moving in a frantic rhythm that matched the pounding in her chest. Her pussy was wet, begging for him, and she knew she was close, so close.

 

With a final, desperate push, Sharan's finger slid all the way into her ass, the tip brushing against something deep inside her that made her entire body convulse with pleasure. Rupa screamed, her orgasm ripping through her like a tornado, leaving her gasping for air. Her pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for the feel of his cock, the emptiness a stark contrast to the fullness of her ass.

 

The sight of her, writhing on the floor, her body a canvas of ecstasy, was almost too much for Sharan to handle. With a groan, he pulled his finger out, his own need demanding to be sated. He positioned the head of his cock at her wet entrance, watching as she panted, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax. "Are you ready for me, behena?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.

 

Rupa's eyes snapped open, meeting his in the mirror. "Yes," she hissed. She arched her back, raising her ass in the air, her pussy swollen and begging for his attention. "Fuck me, bhenchod," she ordered, her voice a blend of dominance and need that had him obeying without question.

 

Sharan's cock throbbed with anticipation, the condom feeling almost painfully tight as he positioned himself at her entrance. He watched her in the mirror, her face contorted with need, her hand still splayed on the carpet, supporting her trembling body. The sight of her, so wanton and open, made his blood boil with a desire that was both fierce and primal.

 

He waited, giving her a moment to adjust, his hand gentle on her hip, his breathing shallow and ragged.

 

"Fuck me," Rupa growled, the words a command that sent a shiver of anticipation through Sharan's body.

 

Her ass was a perfect curve in the air, the roundness of her cheeks begging for his touch. The sight of her, so wanton and eager, was almost too much to bear. He lined his cock up with her dripping pussy, the head nudging against her swollen folds. With a grunt, he pushed forward, feeling the tightness of her entrance give way to the thickness of his cock.

 

Rupa's moan was a symphony of pleasure, the sound echoing off the walls of the hotel room. She pushed back against him, her hips rolling in a silent demand for more. He obliged, his strokes deep and powerful, his cock filling her completely. The feel of her wetness around him was like nothing he'd ever experienced, a warm embrace that seemed to suck him in deeper with every thrust.

 

Sharan's hand slammed down onto her ass, the sound of skin on skin a sharp counterpoint to their muffled cries. He watched as his handprint blossomed red against her skin, the sight of it only serving to drive him harder. He could feel her tightening around him, her muscles clenching and unclenching in a delicious rhythm that had him biting back a groan.

 

"Fuck me," Rupa moaned again, her voice a low, guttural command that sent a bolt of lust straight to his core. She raised her hips even higher, her pussy a slick, wet invitation that he couldn't resist. He gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and drove into her with a ferocity that made her gasp.

 

Her walls clamped down around him, tight as a vice, and he felt his control slipping, the beast of his desire demanding to be set free. He pulled almost all the way out, his cock glistening with her juices, before slamming back into her again, his movements a blur of passion and need. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a testament to their carnality, their shared hunger for this taboo act.

 

The ribs of the condom scbangd against her sensitive inner walls, sending bolts of pleasure through her body with every stroke. Rupa had never felt so alive, so wanted, so consumed by another's lust. She pushed back into him, her body moving in perfect counterpoint to his, her cries of "bhenchod" a litany of praise for the way he filled her, the way he claimed her.

 

Sharan felt like a god, his cock a weapon of divine pleasure that could bring her to her knees. He watched as his hand left imprints on her ass, the redness a stark contrast to the creamy white of her skin. The sight of his fingers disappearing into her tight hole was almost too much to bear, his cock pulsing with the need to come deep inside her.

 

He held back, his teeth clenched as he felt the pressure building, the ribs of the kohinoor condom providing a delicious friction that only added to the intensity. Rupa's pussy was a vice around him, squeezing and releasing in a rhythm that made him feel like he was losing his mind. He could feel the condom stretching, the ribs digging into his skin, a reminder of the illicit act they were committing.

 

With a snarl, he gave in to his primal instincts, his hips slamming into her with an almost brutal force. Rupa's cries grew louder, her body arching back, her breasts bouncing with every impact. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, a symphony of passion that seemed to crescendo with every thrust. He could feel her muscles tightening around him, her pussy pulsing.

 

The ribs of the kohinoor condom scbangd along his length, sending waves of pleasure through him with every stroke. He was lost in the sensation, his mind a haze of lust and need. The condom was a barrier, a thin line that separated them, and yet it only served to heighten the experience, the ribs a constant reminder of the taboo nature of their union.

 

He watched as his cock disappeared into her, the ribs disappearing into the pink folds of her pussy. Each thrust brought a new round of cries from Rupa, her body tightening around him, her walls contracting in a silent plea for more.

 

The ribs of the kohinoor condom dug into her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her core, making her toes curl with every stroke. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before, the combination of his thickness and the condom's texture sending her to new heights of ecstasy. She felt filled to the brim, her body stretched tight around him, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through her.

 

Sharan's eyes never left hers in the mirror, watching her face contort with every thrust, every gasp and moan that slipped past her parted lips. His grip on her waist tightened, his strokes growing more and more relentless as the need to claim her completely consumed him. The ribs of the condom provided a delicious friction, a constant reminder of the sinful nature of their act.

 

Rupa's breasts bobbed with every impact, the sight of them driving Sharan wild with lust. He reached out, his hand wrapping around one, his thumb teasing the sensitive peak. The feel of her soft flesh in his hand only served to fuel his desire, his other hand sliding down to her pussy, his thumb finding her clit once more. He began to rub, the pad of his thumb circling the swollen nub, the rhythm in sync with his hips as they pounded into her.

 

With a sudden, almost violent movement, he pinched her nipple hard, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. Rupa's scream was a mix of pain and pleasure, her body arching off the floor, her back bowing like a drawn bow. The sensation was like a lightning bolt, the pain searing through her, the pleasure a dark thunder that echoed in its wake.

[Mohit.Kumar]

Her eyes watered, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of shock and sensation. The pain was intense, a white-hot brand that seemed to sear through her flesh. But it was the way her body responded that surprised her. Her pussy clenched around his cock, her orgasm building once more. She had never felt anything like this before, a pain that was somehow pleasurable, that seemed to heighten her desire rather than dull it.
 
Sharan watched her in the mirror, his own eyes glazed with lust. He saw the way her body responded to his touch, the way she arched into his pinch, her back bowing like a taut bow. He knew he had found a button, a secret spot that could push her over the edge. He pinched her other nipple, just as hard, and Rupa's cry was a symphony of pain and pleasure.
 
Her pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice, her muscles contracting around him in a spasm that had him groaning with need. He could feel the condom stretching, the ribs digging into him, the sensation almost too much to handle. But he didn't stop, didn't ease up. He wanted her to come again, wanted to watch her shatter in his arms.
 
With one final, brutal thrust, he felt it, the coil of tension in his balls tightening to the point of pain before exploding in a rush of hot, white-hot ecstasy. He came with a roar, his hips bucking against hers, his cock pulsing deep inside her. "Behen ki laudi," he grunted, the words a mix of love and lust, of possession and passion.
 
Sharan pulled out, the sound of the condom slipping from her wetness a stark reminder of the reality of their situation. He collapsed beside her, both of them panting, their bodies slick with sweat and desire, Rupa's pussy was a mess, the condom on Sharan's cock still in place, the ribs a testament to the intensity of their lovemaking.
 
Rupa lay there, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes closed, a content smile playing on her lips. Her pussy was still throbbing, the ache a delicious reminder of the pleasure she had just experienced. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction, a feeling of rightness that she had never felt before.
 
Sharan's hand was still on her chest, his thumb absently playing with her nipple, the slight pain a reminder of the intensity of their coupling. He watched her, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his cock still hard despite having come just moments ago. He couldn't believe what they had just done, the lines between love and lust blurring until they were indistinguishable.
 
With a wicked smile, Rupa reached out, her hand sliding down his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen, and coming to rest on his cock. The condom was still in place, a testament to their passionate union, the ribs a stark contrast to the smoothness of his skin. She traced the outline of the latex, her eyes never leaving his, her touch featherlight, as if she was afraid to break the spell.
 
Then, with a sudden decisiveness that took him by surprise, she tugged the condom off, the sound of it slipping from his cock echoing through the room like a gunshot. She held it up between her fingers, the latex shiny with their combined juices. The sight of it, stretched and used, made his cock twitch with residual arousal.
 
Without breaking eye contact, Rupa brought the condom to her lips, her tongue darting out to give it a single, deliberate lick. The gesture was so brazen, so unabashedly erotic, that Sharan's breath caught in his throat. He watched as her tongue slid along the length of it, tasting the remnants of their union, the ribs of the condom leaving an imprint on her soft, full lower lip.
 
Her hand moved to the bedside bin, the gesture a silent question. Sharan nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. Rupa tossed the condom into the bin with a flick of her wrist, the latex landing with a wet splat. The sound was a strange counterpoint to the silence that had settled over them, a stark reminder of the reality of their incestuous encounter.
 
The room was heavy with the scent of sex, their mingled musk, a heady perfume that seemed to cling to the air. The condom lay discarded, a testament to their passion, the ribs a silent reminder of the forbidden pleasure they had just shared. Rupa felt a strange thrill at the sight of it, a sense of power that she had never felt before. She had pushed her brother to the edge, had made him lose control in a way she had never seen.

[Mohit.Kumar]

With a naughty smile, she reached for the bottle of whisky on the nightstand, the amber liquid a beacon of comfort in the aftermath of their encounter. "Pour me a drink, bhai," she said, her voice a low purr that seemed to resonate through him.
 
Sharan's hand was still shaking slightly as he took the bottle, the weight of their shared secret hanging heavy in the air. He poured her a generous measure, the liquid glugging into the glass with a reassuring sound that seemed to steady his own racing heart. He handed it to her, his eyes never leaving hers, the connection between them a live wire of desire and understanding.
 
Rupa took a sip, the whisky burning a trail down her throat, the warmth spreading through her body like a wildfire. She let out a contented sigh, her eyes never leaving his. "This is good," she murmured, her voice a soft purr that seemed to stroke his ego.
 
Sharan watched as she licked her lips, the taste of him still lingering on them. He felt a strange mix of pride and disgust, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had never felt so alive, so vital, and yet the reality of what they had done weighed heavy on his conscience.
 
"What are we doing, Rupa?" he asked, his voice hoarse with the intensity of his emotions. "This isn't right."
 
Rupa took another sip of her whisky, the amber liquid warming her from the inside out. She studied him over the rim of the glass, her gaze unreadable. "Isn't it?" she murmured. "It felt pretty right to me."
 
Sharan felt a surge of anger mingled with lust at her words. "You know what I mean," he ground out, his hand tightening on the bottle. "We can't keep doing this, Rupa. It's wrong."
 
Rupa took a long, slow sip, watching him over the rim. "Why is it wrong, bhai?" she asked, her voice a soft caress. "We're consenting adults. And it feels so right."
 
Sharan's hand stilled on the bottle, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew she was right, that there was no logical reason why they shouldn't be together like this. But the weight of societal norms and familial expectations was a heavy burden to bear. "Because it's not natural," he said, his voice tight with tension. "Because we're brother and sister."
 
Rupa sat up, her breasts still flushed from their lovemaking. She took the bottle from his hand, her own steady despite the tremor in his. "Who's to say what's natural and what's not?" she asked, her voice a soft challenge. "You felt it too, didn't you?"
 
Sharan watched as she brought the glass to her lips, her throat working as she swallowed the whisky in one long gulp. The sight was strangely erotic, a stark contrast to the softness of her features and the delicate curve of her neck. He couldn't deny the truth in her words, the intensity of the passion that had just consumed them both. But the fear of discovery, of losing everything they had worked so hard for, was a specter that loomed large in the back of his mind.
 
"Rupa," he began, his voice a low rumble of need and fear, "we can't keep doing this. If someone finds out......."
 
Rupa set the whisky glass down with a thunk, her eyes never leaving his. "So we'll be careful," she said, her voice a seductive whisper that seemed to stroke his very soul. "We're both adults. We know what we're doing."
 
Sharan felt the weight of her gaze, the warmth of her body as she slid closer to him. He knew she was right, but the fear remained, a cold knot in his stomach that threatened to unravel him. "But what if..." he began, his voice trailing off.
 
Rupa placed a gentle finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh," she murmured, her voice a balm to the storm of his thoughts. "We're careful, aren't we?"
 
Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the passion that had just flared between them. He couldn't deny it, they had been careful so far. But the risk was always there, a shadow lurking at the edges of their every encounter.
 
"But what if we get caught?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate through the stillness of the room.
 
Rupa's eyes gleamed with mischief, her naked body a vision of temptation. "Then we'll deal with it," she said, her hand trailing over his chest as she passed. "But for now, I need to take a little leak. Why don't you join me?"

[Mohit.Kumar]

The challenge in her tone was clear, a dare that sent a thrill of excitement through Sharan. He followed her into the bathroom, his eyes drawn to the sway of her hips and the way her ass cheeks jiggled with each step. The sight was so erotic, so utterly taboo, that his cock began to harden again.
 
Rupa stepped into the bathroom, the light from the bedroom casting her in a soft glow that made her skin seem almost ethereal. She turned to face him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You're not shy, are you, bhai?" she asked, her voice a teasing purr that sent his pulse racing.
 
Sharan followed her, his eyes devouring the sight of her naked body. Her breasts were still flushed from their earlier encounter, her brown nipples tight and hard, a testament to the passion they had shared. His cock twitched with renewed interest, the sight of her so openly sexual a powerful aphrodisiac that seemed to cloud his judgment.
 
Entering the bathroom, he found Rupa leaning against the sink, her legs spread slightly, one hand idly playing with the folds of her sex. She looked over her shoulder at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, bhai," she began, her voice a soft purr, "watching you always makes me so wet."
 
he stepped closer to the toilet, the muscles in her thighs tensing as she positioned herself over the bowl. Sharan couldn't help but watch, his eyes drawn to the sight of her bare ass, the cheeks firm and round.
 
Rupa's stream of urine was a soft, steady sound in the quiet of the bathroom, a stark contrast to the harshness of their earlier whispers. She closed her eyes, her head tilting back slightly as the release brought with it a sigh of relief and pleasure. The warmth of her pee was a stark contrast to the coolness of the porcelain, the scent faintly musky but not unpleasant.
 
Sharan couldn't tear his eyes away from her, the sight of her urinating somehow adding to the eroticism of the moment. He watched the way her pussy lips parted, the urine flowing out of her, the way the water rippled around the edges of the toilet bowl. It was a simple act, one performed countless times every day by people all over the world, but in that moment, it was the most intimate thing he had ever witnessed.
 
The smell of her sex filled the air, a heady perfume that seemed to intoxicate him further. His cock was fully erect now, straining towards her, as if seeking to rejoin her body, to reclaim the warmth it had so recently left. Rupa glanced at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she caught his gaze. She wiggled her hips slightly, the muscles of her ass clenching and releasing in a silent invitation.
 
Sharan stepped closer, his cock brushing against her thigh. He watched as the last droplets of urine fell from her, the sound of the water splashing against the porcelain a gentle melody that seemed to beckon him closer. His hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her spine, sending a shiver of pleasure down her body.
 
With a grace that belied the urgency of their need, Rupa straightened, turning to face him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, her eyes never leaving his as she pushed him back slightly. "Let me clean up," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "Then we can continue."
 
Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of desire through his body. He nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions that churned within him. She stepped aside, allowing him to pass, the heat of her skin lingering on his flesh like a brand. He walked into the hotel room, his eyes scanning the space, his thoughts racing with the implications of their actions.
 
The room felt smaller somehow, the walls closing in on him, as if the very air was thick with the weight of their secret. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, but the scent of sex clung to him like a second skin, a reminder that he could never truly escape the reality of what they had done.
 
Rupa emerged from the bathroom, her body still glowing from their encounter. She took a swig from the whisky bottle, her eyes never leaving his, and handed it to him. "To us," she said, her voice a smoky purr that seemed to wrap around him like a velvet blanket.
 
The whisky burned a path down Rupa's throat, leaving a trail of warmth that settled in her belly like a living flame. She took another swig, the taste of the amber liquid a delicious sin on her tongue. Sharan watched her, his eyes dark with a hunger that had not yet been sated. He was a teetotaler, but the sight of her indulgence was intoxicating in its own right.