I’m Aanchal, and I’m a filthy slut with a dirty little secret that’ll blow your mind. This is the story of how I spread my legs for my own brother Rohan, let him lick my dripping pussy, ram his cock up my tight ass, suck my fat tits, and fuck me senseless until he knocked me up. I’m not ashamed—I’m fucking proud. I’m a cock-hungry whore who got exactly what she wanted, and I loved every second of it.
I’m 24, and my body’s built for sin. My tits are so huge they rip through my blouses, my ass jiggles like a stripper’s when I walk, and my pussy’s always wet, begging for a hard cock. My parents spoiled me rotten, gave me the best education, and dreamed of marrying me off to some rich bastard. Three years ago, I got hitched to a stud from a loaded Jaipur family. He was ripped, hot as fuck, and I couldn’t wait to ride his cock in their fancy-ass mansion. But five days after the wedding, my dream life turned to shit.
My husband had a seizure and went batshit crazy. Doctors said his brain was fucked, probably forever. Worst of all, his cock was useless—couldn’t get hard no matter what. Me? I’m a nympho who needs to get fucked hard and often. Every night, I’d climb into bed, teasing his chiseled body, stroking his chest, sucking his limp dick like a desperate slut. I’d strip naked, shove my tits in his face, grind my soaked pussy on his fingers, trying to get him to fuck me. Nothing. My cunt would be throbbing, my nipples hard as bullets, my eyes wild with lust, but I was left dry. I’d finger myself to sleep, crying, my pussy screaming for a real man.
Months of doctors, no dice. One day, my mother-in-law cornered me. “Everything okay at night, dear?” she asked, meaning, “Is my son fucking you?” I lied through my teeth, “Oh yeah, all good.” She grinned, “Good, we need an heir for this mansion. Pop out a kid soon—this family needs a legacy.” I nearly choked. A kid? With a husband whose cock is dead? But I knew if I didn’t deliver, I’d lose my shot at ruling this place like a queen.
I spent nights scheming, my pussy aching for action. Then my brother Rohan rolled into town. He’s 26, tall, jacked, with eyes that make my cunt twitch. He came from Bangalore to check on my husband. That day, my in-laws took my husband for a checkup in Jaipur, leaving me and Rohan alone in the mansion. My father-in-law called—they’d be back tomorrow. We ate dinner, and I made sure to lean in close, letting my tits brush his arm, my saree slipping to show my curves. We headed to the terrace to “talk.”
The night was hot, moonlight making my skin glow. I played the damsel, fake-crying so Rohan would hold me. He hugged me tight, whispering, “Why’re you crying, Aanchal? I got you.” I pressed my tits against his chest, feeling his cock harden against my thigh. Fucking jackpot. I rubbed my body against him, letting him feel how bad I wanted it. He stroked my back, and I ran my nails down his, moaning softly. My pussy was soaked, begging for his cock. I pulled back, teasing him, and we went to the living room.
We sat on the couch, and I crossed my legs so my saree rode up, flashing my thighs. Rohan broke the silence, “Your husband gonna pull through?” I sighed, batting my lashes, “Fuck if I know, Rohan. And my mother-in-law’s nagging for a grandson. What do I do? His cock’s useless.” He listened, eyes on my cleavage. I leaned closer, “I lied to her, said we’re fucking like rabbits, but I can’t make a kid alone. If I had one, I’d own this fucking mansion.” Rohan stayed quiet, then smirked, “Aanchal, you want a kid, she wants an heir, and I can make it happen. No one’ll know.” My pussy clenched. I licked my lips, staring at him. He grabbed my hand, “Say the word, and I’ll fuck you right.”
My brain said no, but my cunt screamed yes. Rohan slid closer, running his fingers through my hair, then yanked me into his arms. I moaned, rubbing my tits against him, practically begging for his cock. He scooped me up like a slut in heat and carried me to the bedroom, tossing me on the bed. He ripped open my blouse, my massive tits spilling out. He sucked one nipple hard, pinching the other, making me scream, “Fuck, Rohan… suck my tits raw…” My nipples were stiff, my pussy dripping. He tore off my saree, leaving me in a thong. He rubbed my cunt through the fabric, growling, “You’re fucking soaked, you slut.” He yanked off my thong, stroking my bush, then shoved a finger deep in my pussy. I screamed, “Oh fuck… finger-fuck my cunt…”
He buried his face in my pussy, licking my clit like a pro. I grabbed his head, grinding against his mouth, “Eat my fucking pussy… make me cum…” His tongue worked magic, and I exploded, my juices flooding his face. He lapped it up like a dog. My turn. I ripped off his pants, and his cock—8 inches, thick as hell—made my mouth water. I sucked it like a porn star, deep-throating him. Rohan groaned, “Fuck, Aanchal… you suck cock like a whore…”
We hit 69, him devouring my pussy while I gagged on his cock. My cunt was ready to burst. He threw me on the bed, lined his cock up with my pussy, and slammed it in. I screamed, “Fuck… you’re splitting my pussy…” He pounded me, snarling, “Take my cock, you dirty slut… I’m gonna wreck your cunt…” His words made me wilder. I screamed, “Fuck me… tear my pussy apart… make me your bitch…” He fucked me harder, his cock slamming deep, the room echoing with wet slaps. I was gone, lost in lust, clawing his back, screaming, “Harder… destroy my fucking cunt…”
After 25 minutes of brutal fucking, he shot his hot cum deep in my pussy. I was shaking, but he wasn’t done. He flipped me over, spit on my asshole, and I purred, “Fuck my ass, big brother…” He grinned, “Gonna pop your ass cherry, slut.” He lubed his cock and slid it into my tight hole. It burned, but I loved it, pushing back against him. He fucked my ass hard, and I screamed, “Oh fuck… my ass… rip it open…” He came, filling my ass with cum.
We fucked all night—me riding his cock, him bending me over, fucking me against the wall. He ate my pussy, sucked my tits, and pumped cum into my cunt and ass over and over. I was a cock-starved slut in paradise, finally getting the pounding I craved.
Rohan stayed ten days. Every night, we fucked like animals, my pussy and ass sore but begging for more. By day, I played the sweet sister, but at night, I was his whore. My cunt had found its master.
Weeks later, I missed my period. The doctor confirmed I was pregnant. I was fucking ecstatic. I told my mother-in-law, and she cried, “You’ve saved our legacy!” I smirked, hiding my truth. This baby was Rohan’s, not her son’s. I’d played the sluttiest game and won. Now, I’m the queen of this mansion, and I fucking love it.