This is the strangest, most twisted experience of my life, one that taught me a brutal truth: a man is a man, and all he craves is a woman’s body, no matter who she is. My name is Kanishka, and this is the story of the night my father, drunk out of his mind, fucked me senseless, turning my world upside down.
I’ve been married for five years, with a two-and-a-half-year-old son, Ravi. I live in Jaipur with my husband, but my hometown is a small village in Himachal. Every year, during the monsoon season, I visit my parents’ home. This time was no different—or so I thought. My family consists of my father, whom we call Dad, my ailing mother, my elder brother, and his wife, my sister-in-law. Dad is a beast of a man, even at 63—tall, muscular, with a commanding presence that could make anyone’s knees weak. His deep voice and rugged frame still carried the vigor of a much younger man. My mother, bedridden and barely conscious most days, was oblivious to the world around her. My brother, a sales executive, was often away on tours, leaving the house to just me, Ravi, my sister-in-law, Mom, and Dad.
Our house has three bedrooms: one for my sister-in-law, one for Mom, and one for Dad. I was staying in a spare room near the hallway with Ravi. My sister-in-law and I are about the same age, 26 or 27, and we’re built similarly—curvy, with full figures that turn heads. She’s got fair skin and a body that could make any man drool. I’m no slouch either—34-28-36, with long hair and eyes my husband says drive him wild.
I’d been at my parents’ place for just two days when it happened. It was around 11:30 at night, and I was asleep next to Ravi when I heard footsteps in the hallway. My ears perked up. Then came the soft creak of a door being pushed shut—my sister-in-law’s room. She never locked her door, just pulled a curtain across. My heart started racing, a bad feeling creeping in. I slipped out of bed quietly and checked the bathroom first, thinking someone might be there. Empty. Then I crept toward Mom’s room. She was passed out, snoring loudly, but Dad was nowhere to be seen. My pulse quickened. Something wasn’t right.
I tiptoed to my sister-in-law’s room and peered through a gap in the curtain. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a dim glow over the room. A figure stood by the bed, and after a moment, climbed onto it, sliding next to someone already there. My eyes strained in the dark. Then I saw long hair swaying—it was my sister-in-law. The other figure was Dad. My heart pounded like a drum. His hands roamed over her body, sliding up her nightgown, exposing her thighs. Then came the sounds—wet, sloppy kisses, like he was devouring her.
Her nightgown was hiked up to her waist now. Dad climbed on top of her, and she let out a deep moan, “Ohh…” He started moving, his hips grinding against her. Slowly at first, then faster. The room filled with her gasps and moans—ohh… ahh… fuck… yes… I stood frozen, watching through the curtain as Dad fucked my sister-in-law. Her legs were up in the air, and he pinned her hands down, like a predator claiming his prey. Her moans turned to cries, louder and more desperate. “Oh, Dad… slower…” she gasped, but he didn’t stop. He pounded into her, the bed creaking under his thrusts. Suddenly, she let out a sharp scream, her body trembling. At that moment, my pussy was dripping wet. I tried to steady myself, but my body was on fire. My husband, Ramesh, flashed in my mind—he’d never lasted more than a couple of minutes, but Dad was relentless, fucking her like a beast.
He had her legs bent back toward her head, his hips slamming into her. Her cries grew louder, “Ohh… fuck… Dad…” He was merciless, his thrusts shaking the bed. My body burned with desire. I slid my hand into my pajamas, rubbing my clit as I watched. About 15 minutes in, Dad slowed, then stopped. She straightened her legs, and he collapsed onto her, their heavy breathing filling the room. He kissed her lips, patted her cheek, and got off the bed. I realized he’d come toward the door, so I bolted back to my room and sat on the bed, my heart racing. A minute later, I heard his footsteps in the hallway, heading to Mom’s room. My suspicion was confirmed—Dad had just fucked my sister-in-law.
I lay back, my mind spinning. The image of Dad’s raw power, her moans, kept replaying. At 63, he had more stamina than men half his age. What a fucking stud, I thought. I couldn’t sleep. After 15 minutes, I grabbed a flashlight and went to her room. The door was still open. I shone the light carefully. She was asleep on her side, her ass facing me, her nightgown still bunched up. Her pussy was swollen, glistening with thick, white cum that had dripped onto her creamy thighs. Her hair was a mess, and faint bite marks dotted her cheek. Dad had fucked her hard, and she was out cold from it. My pussy throbbed. I glanced at Ravi, sound asleep, then slid my fingers into my wet pussy again, rubbing furiously. After 30 or 40 strokes, I came, but it wasn’t enough. Ramesh could never make me scream like that. Dad had fucked her until she lost it.
The next morning, everything seemed normal. My sister-in-law was calling out, “Dad, have some tea!” like nothing had happened. I was stunned. This woman got fucked by her father-in-law all night and now served him tea with a smile? What a piece of ass, I thought. The next night, I waited, but nothing happened. My body was restless, craving something I couldn’t name. The third night, it happened again. I watched through the curtain as Dad fucked her on the floor this time, her on all fours, him behind her, pounding her ass. Her moans filled the room, “Ohh… Dad… fuck… slow down…” He didn’t listen, fucking her for 12 minutes straight. I stood there, rubbing my pussy, jealous. How had she hooked my dad with her tight body? I wasn’t bad either—full tits, tight ass, curves that drove men wild. But fuck my own dad? The thought made my skin crawl, but my pussy begged for it.
I decided to talk to her. We were the same age, and sex talk wasn’t new for us. One day, I teased, “You’re getting all the real fun, aren’t you?” She froze, then laughed, “Kanishka, you naughty girl! Still thirsty, huh?” I didn’t hold back. “What about the fun you’re having at night? What’s wrong with my brother?” Her face flushed. She sighed, “Look, Kanishka, life’s like that. A woman’s just a pawn. I have to live in this house. You don’t fight the crocodile when you’re in the water. Tell me, when did you find out? What did you see?” I spilled everything—how I saw Dad fucking her, her screams.
I added, “If something feels good, why not share it?” She took a deep breath. “At first, he forced himself on me one night when he was drunk. I didn’t tell your brother out of fear. Then, I got used to it. But Kanishka, he’s your dad. You got the guts for that?” I said, “I don’t know, but you tell me how.” Her plan blew my mind. “I’ll sleep with Ravi for a couple of nights and keep Dad busy with excuses. You wear my clothes and lie on my bed. He doesn’t talk, just fucks and leaves.”
It sounded crazy, but my pussy was screaming yes. I asked, “What about the morning?” She smirked, “We’ll deal with it.” Two nights later, I wore her orange nightgown and lay on her bed, my ass toward the door, just like she did. My heart was pounding. What the fuck was I doing? But my pussy was wet, aching for Dad’s cock.
Around midnight, the door creaked shut. Someone lay behind me. The sharp smell of whiskey hit me—Dad was drunk. He brushed my hair aside and kissed my neck. A jolt shot through my body. He kissed my cheeks, my lips, and squeezed my tits through the nightgown. I wanted to moan but stayed quiet, scared. His hand slid to my stomach, pulling up my nightgown. He turned me onto my back, spread my thighs with his knees, and I felt his cock against my pussy—thick, hot, massive. He thrust hard, and it slid inside. I gasped, “Ohh…” pleasure overwhelming me. Thinking I was my sister-in-law, he started fucking me, slow at first, then harder. My pussy stretched around his cock, bigger than anything I’d ever taken. Ramesh was nothing compared to this. Dad’s cock was at least seven inches long, two inches thick, pounding me like a machine.
He ripped open my nightgown, buttons flying, and grabbed my tits, squeezing them hard. His rough farmer’s hands left marks. His cock slammed deeper, hitting places I didn’t know existed. I couldn’t hold back, moaning, “Ohh… Dad… fuck…” He got wilder, thrusting like a beast. My pussy screamed with every stroke. In the final moments, I felt like I was in heaven. His cock throbbed, and hot cum flooded my pussy. “Fuck… what a rush,” I thought. He pulled out fast, grabbed his underwear, and bolted out the door. My moan must’ve tipped him off.
I stumbled to my sister-in-law’s room. She turned on the light, saw my torn nightgown, and laughed. “Kanishka, you good? Cooled off?” I blushed, “How do you handle him? His cock’s a fucking monster!” She grinned, “Our men are nothing compared to him. You felt his power tonight!” I said, “What about tomorrow? How do I face him?” She smirked, “He’ll be the one ashamed for fucking his own daughter.”
The next night, she sent me back to her bed. I wore the same nightgown. Dad came, fucked me again, and I let loose, moaning, “Ohh… Dad… harder…” At the end, I couldn’t stop myself. “Dad, it’s Kanishka.” He froze, then growled, “You little slut, you should’ve said so yesterday!” I stammered, “You were too into it, I was shy.” He said, “No shame now, huh? Lie still, I’m not done.” He bit my cheek, and I gasped, “Fuck, what a bite!”
It became a routine. One night her, one night me. One night, while Dad was fucking me, she walked in and flipped on the light. We froze. Dad pulled his cock out, and I saw it—black, seven inches, thick as hell. She laughed, “Dad, keep going, she was loving it!” She lay beside us. Dad finished fucking me, then said, “If you’re ashamed, you can’t enjoy this.” My sister-in-law spilled everything—how I caught them, how I wanted it too. She asked, “Who’s better?” Dad laughed, “You’re both my life. Why choose? Your tits are firm, her ass is tight. Her pussy’s looser, yours is tighter.”
He pulled us onto his hairy chest, and we fell asleep in his arms. The next morning, he was gone to the fields. I asked her, “Did he say anything?” She said, “Nope. Don’t worry.” I said, “What now?” She grinned, “Keep fucking him while you’re here. His cock doesn’t quit, and that’s what a woman needs.” I felt guilty for fucking my own dad, but she said, “I’ll handle it. Enjoy your body.” And I did, every night, lost in his forbidden lust.