My name’s Deepak, and I’ve always been obsessed with sex. By 20, I’d already fucked plenty of local girls and older women, slamming their dripping pussies with my thick, throbbing cock. But this story’s different—it’s about me and my older sister, who’s married. This happened when I was still single, living with my family: Mom, Dad, me, and my sister. Dad was usually out for work, so it was mostly Mom, me, and my sister at home. My sister had been staying with us for about 10 days, visiting from her husband’s place. She was 25 or 26, with a body to die for—32-27-37, dusky skin, but curves so tight they’d make any guy’s dick rock-hard.
That afternoon, I got back home after chilling with friends. My sister was sprawled in the living room, wearing a tight blue dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her tits were practically bursting out, and the curve of her hips was fucking hypnotic. She looked up and said, “Deepak, I’m bored out of my mind. Let’s go somewhere.” I shrugged and said, “Check with Mom first.” She did, and Mom gave the green light. I figured it’d be a fun way to kill time. At that point, I hadn’t thought of my sister in that way. I threw on jeans and a tee, and she got ready. Her dress was so snug it showed off every inch of her ass. Damn, she looked hot.
I pulled out my bike, and she hopped on behind me. It was the first time I’d had her on my bike. She sat with her legs on either side, pressing her body right up against mine. Her soft tits mashed into my back, and her thighs hugged my waist. I started the bike, and as we took off, her tits rubbed harder against me. My cock twitched in my jeans, getting semi-hard. I thought, “What the fuck? She’s my sister.” But the feeling was too good to ignore. Her warm body against mine was driving me wild.
On the way, she said, “Deepak, let’s catch a movie.” I nodded, “Cool, sounds good.” The cinema hall was a bit far from our place. We chatted as we rode, and she mentioned her husband was always away, leaving her restless. There was a hint of something in her voice—loneliness, maybe?—but I didn’t catch it then. Her tits kept grinding into my back, and my cock was now fully hard, straining against my jeans. I tried to focus on the road, but my mind was racing. “She’s your sister, dude. Chill,” I told myself. Yeah, right.
We got to the cinema hall, and it was practically empty—maybe 25 or 30 people tops. We grabbed balcony tickets and settled into corner seats. The balcony was deserted, just us. The lights dimmed, and the movie started. It was some romantic flick with steamy scenes. I glanced at my sister; her eyes were glued to the screen, but her breathing was heavy, and her cheeks were flushed. The on-screen couple was getting hot and heavy, and I could feel the tension building. I took a chance and gently grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull away or say anything, just let me hold it. Her hand was warm, and my heart was pounding.
“Fuck it,” I thought. I slid my hand to her shoulder, then down to her waist. She didn’t flinch. My fingers brushed her tit, and holy shit, it was soft and full under her dress. I gave it a light squeeze, and her breath hitched. She stayed quiet, eyes on the screen. I squeezed harder, feeling her nipple harden through her bra. My cock was throbbing so hard it hurt. I leaned close and whispered, “You’re so fucking hot, Didi.” She shot me a look and whispered, “Deepak, what are you doing? Someone might see.” But her voice wasn’t angry—it was soft, almost teasing. I smirked, “No one’s here.”
I slipped my fingers under her dress, finding her bra strap and unhooking it with one hand. Her tit spilled free, and I cupped it, rolling her nipple between my fingers. It was rock-hard, and she let out a soft moan. “Deepak, stop,” she murmured, but she didn’t mean it. Her body was saying something else. I kept teasing her nipple, pinching it lightly, and her moans got louder. My cock was screaming for release, tenting my jeans. I grabbed her hand and placed it on my bulge. Her fingers hesitated, then closed around it, stroking me through the fabric. Fuck, her touch was electric.
I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my cock. It was thick and pulsing, precum already leaking. I guided her hand to it, and she wrapped her fingers around the shaft, stroking slowly. Her eyes flicked to mine, wide with a mix of shock and lust. I slid my hand down her dress, past her panties, and found her pussy. It was soaking wet, the heat radiating against my fingers. I rubbed her clit through her panties, and she bit her lip, stifling a moan. I pushed her panties aside and slid a finger into her tight, wet pussy. She gasped, her grip on my cock tightening.
I finger-fucked her slowly, curling my finger to hit her sweet spot. Her pussy clenched around me, and her juices coated my hand. “You’re so wet, Didi,” I whispered. She moaned, “Deepak, this is so wrong… but it feels so good.” I added a second finger, pumping faster, and her hips bucked against my hand. Her hand was jerking my cock harder now, her thumb rubbing the tip, smearing precum. I leaned in and sucked her nipple, biting it gently. She whimpered, her body trembling. I could tell she was close. I fingered her harder, and her pussy spasmed, gushing all over my hand as she came. She slumped back, panting, her face flushed.
I wasn’t done. “Didi, my cock’s still hard,” I said, stroking myself. She looked at it, then at me, and whispered, “What do you want me to do?” I grinned, “Suck it.” She hesitated, but I guided her head down. Her lips brushed the tip, and I groaned. She licked the head, tasting my precum, then took me into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around my cock, and she sucked hard, her head bobbing. I grabbed her hair, thrusting gently into her mouth. The wet, sloppy sounds were driving me insane. “Fuck, Didi, you’re amazing,” I moaned. She hummed around my cock, sending vibrations through me.
I pulled her up and yanked her dress down, exposing both tits. I sucked one while pinching the other, making her moan louder. I slid her panties off completely, her pussy glistening in the dim light. I lifted her onto my lap, positioning my cock at her entrance. She froze, whispering, “Deepak, we can’t.” But her eyes said she wanted it. I rubbed my cock against her wet slit, and she moaned, “Oh, fuck.” She grabbed my cock, lined it up, and sank down. Her pussy was so tight, it felt like a vise gripping me. She gasped, “Oh my God, it’s so big!”
I held her hips and thrust up, burying my cock deep. She rode me, her tits bouncing, her pussy squeezing me with every move. I fucked her hard, our bodies slapping together. “You like that, Didi?” I growled. She moaned, “Yes, fuck me, Deepak!” I grabbed her ass, spreading her cheeks, and pounded harder. Her pussy was dripping, coating my balls. After 20 minutes, she screamed, “I’m cumming!” Her pussy clamped down, and I couldn’t hold back. I shot my load deep inside her, filling her pussy with hot cum. We collapsed, sweating and panting.
She looked at me, blushing, and said, “You came here to watch a movie or to fuck me?” I laughed, “Both, Didi. You’re too hot to resist.” She slapped my arm playfully and said, “Put your cock away.” We fixed our clothes and slipped out of the cinema hall. On the bike, she pressed against me again, her hand brushing my cock. I teased, “Check out that chick’s ass.” She laughed, “You just fucked me, and you’re already eyeing someone else?” I smirked, “Your pussy’s the best, Didi.”
At home, I tried to grab her, but she pushed me away, saying, “Not here, Deepak. We’re brother and sister.” I grinned, “What was that in the cinema hall?” She blushed, “That was… different.” But the look in her eyes told me this wasn’t over. I knew I’d get to fuck her tight pussy and maybe her ass too, soon enough.