My name’s Arun, and I’m 21 now. I’m sharing my story for the first time, and I’m damn sure you’re gonna love it. At home, it’s just me, my mom, and my sister Ankita, who’s two years older than me. Mom’s a manager at some company, always busy with her corporate life. This story kicks off when I was 18, and Ankita was 20—a time when things got real heated.
Ankita was a fucking goddess. One look at her, and you’d be hooked. Blue eyes, fair skin, and a silky-smooth body so delicate that a single touch could leave marks. She was like an angel, but hotter than hell. Her figure back then? A perfect 30-25-28. I was just 18, but thanks to my older buddies, I knew more about sex than most kids my age. Every time Ankita bent over, my eyes dove straight into her top, hunting for a glimpse of her tits.
She rarely wore a bra back then, so my gaze always locked onto her perky nipples. God must’ve crafted her with extra care—those creamy, round breasts with pink nipples were a sight to die for. Any guy who saw her would have one thought: when can I make this beauty mine? I’ll admit, I fantasized about pressing my lips to her soft tits, but the thought of her being my sister stopped me cold. If she got pissed, I’d never be able to face her again. That fear kept me in check.
Every guy in the neighborhood was crazy for Ankita, but she didn’t give a damn about any of them—except Ratan. He was her classmate, and they were tight. Whenever they met, they’d exchange these flirty smiles that made me suspicious. I had a gut feeling something was going on, but no proof. That is, until I found a letter from Ratan in her bag. He wrote, “Babe, how long will you keep me waiting? I need to see you alone.” Ankita’s reply? “I want to meet you too, just waiting for the right moment.”
That moment came sooner than I expected. About a week later, Mom had to go on a three-day work trip. She left us in the care of the maid. That day, I ditched school early and rushed home. When I asked the maid where Ankita was, she said she was upstairs in her bedroom, working on a “school project” with Ratan and shouldn’t be disturbed. My heart skipped a beat. I bolted upstairs, but her door was locked. Our bedrooms were separate, but we shared a bathroom with doors leading to each room. I slipped into my room, went through the bathroom, and peeked through the bathroom window into Ankita’s bedroom.
There she was, in a pink top and capri pants, her head resting in Ratan’s lap as they talked. Then Ratan brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucked it behind her ear, and kissed her lips. Ankita ran her fingers through his hair, responding eagerly. Seeing this, my cock instantly hardened. I couldn’t believe it—the lips I’d dreamed of kissing were being devoured by someone else right in front of me.
Ratan’s hand slid over her tits, still covered by her top. Ankita shivered, her body trembling with excitement. She grabbed his head tightly. Slowly, he slipped his hand under her top, groping her bare breasts. I was losing it. My hand went to my pants, pulling them down as I started stroking my throbbing cock.
Ratan lifted Ankita from his lap and tried to pull off her top. She resisted at first, saying, “No, Ratan…” but then helped him take it off. Underneath, she wore a black slip that barely contained her full, juicy tits. Her cleavage was begging to be freed. Ratan didn’t waste time—he kissed her cleavage, and Ankita let out a soft moan, “Mmm…” He pulled off her slip, revealing her perfect breasts. He took one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, while his hand kneaded the other. Ankita’s moans grew louder, “Ohh… ahh…”
He laid her down on the bed, climbing half on top of her, kissing her lips fiercely. His hands squeezed her tits, her nipples hard and pointed. He kissed her everywhere—lips, eyes, neck, chest, stomach—driving her wild. Ankita was panting now, her body aching for more. Then Ratan slid his hand into her capri. She grabbed his wrist, whispering, “No, Ratan… this is for after marriage.” He smirked, “We’re getting married anyway, so what’s the difference?” With that, he tugged her capri down, revealing her pink panties, the crotch soaked with her arousal.
Ratan kissed her lips while grabbing her wet pussy through her panties. Ankita squirmed, clamping her thighs around his hand, trapping it there. He kept kissing her, slowly parting her legs, and started rubbing her pussy over the fabric. Her nails dug into his neck as she moaned, “Ohh… fuck…” Watching this, I came hard, but my cock stayed rock-hard, ready for more.
Ratan pulled her panties down, and I nearly lost my mind. Her pussy was perfect—pink lips, lightly dusted with hair, glistening with wetness. He slid a finger inside her, and Ankita gasped, “Aahh… ohh…” Her moans filled the room as he tried to push deeper, but she flinched, and his finger slipped out.
Then Ratan stripped off his pants. His underwear was tented with his erection. He pulled it off, revealing a 5-inch cock, about 1.5 inches thick. Ankita’s eyes were closed, her breathing heavy. He took her hand and placed it on his cock. She pulled back at first, but he guided her hand back, and she started stroking it slowly, feeling its hardness. Ratan groaned, “Fuck, babe… yeah…”
He positioned himself between her legs, holding his cock and trying to guide it into her pussy. He was clumsy, struggling to find her entrance. After a few failed attempts, he grabbed a pillow and placed it under her ass, spreading her legs wide. Sitting on his knees between her thighs, he looked at her. Ankita whispered, “Jaan, are we doing something wrong?” Ratan replied, “Nothing’s wrong in love, my darling.”
He positioned his cock at her entrance and pushed gently. Ankita cried out in pain, “Aahh… slow…” He grabbed her waist and thrust hard, burying about 3 inches inside her. She couldn’t handle it—she was about to scream, but Ratan covered her mouth with his hand. She writhed beneath him, tears streaming down her face. I saw blood trickling from her pussy—she was a virgin no more.
Ratan leaned down, kissing her cheeks, licking away her tears. He sucked her lips and squeezed her tits, trying to ease her pain. After about 10 minutes, Ankita calmed down. He pulled his cock out slightly and pushed back in. She moaned softly, “Mmm…” Her eyes were still closed, her body adjusting to the intrusion. Then he thrust again, this time burying his entire cock inside her.
He lay on top of her, kissing her deeply. After a few minutes, he started moving—pulling out and thrusting back in, slow at first. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. Ankita whimpered, “Ohh… Ratan…” He picked up the pace, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room—thap thap thap. Her moans grew louder, “Aahh… ohh… fuck me…”
Her face started to show pleasure instead of pain. She began moving with him, her hips meeting his thrusts. Her moans were wild now, “Ohh… mmm… Ratan… I love you… aahh…” He fucked her harder, grunting, “Take it, babe… you’re mine…” After about 15 minutes, Ankita’s body tensed, her nails digging into his back as she tried to stop him. But Ratan couldn’t hold back—he came inside her, groaning, “Fuck… ohh…”
They collapsed, tangled in each other’s arms, panting and sweating. After about half an hour, they pulled apart. Ratan grinned, “I want another round, babe.” Ankita laughed softly, “We’ve got two more days. Arun will be home soon, so you should go. I’ll meet you later.”
Guys, this is my true story. What did you think? Let me know in the comments. Next, I’ll tell you how I blackmailed Ankita the following day.
What did you think of this steamy tale? Drop your thoughts in the comments below!