Candidness Repurcussions

Kabir Singh

September 12, 2021

Incest

nsfwsiblings

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She’d brought Paneer from the market and made the Matar-Paneer dish for me as it was my all-time favorite. I can evoke the time when we were young, living under the same roof. She would always cook the same dish rather than our mother. It’s been well over a year since I’d tasted the Matar-Paneer from her hand.

I’ve been staying at my elder sister’s place, for now, for more than two weeks. My company was still moving ahead with a work-from-home setup. Hence, I stayed longer than I should’ve. My main reason for the visit was to celebrate Rakhi with my dear sister. Just this morning, her husband had to leave for some foreign trip his company had planned for him. Now we’d the place to ourselves; I was looking forward to spending quality time with her in reminiscence of our childhood memories.

We were candid with each other ever since she found out I’d hidden adult videos on my father’s phone. Fortunately, our parents weren’t tech-savvy from the very beginning. They never found out. This incident opened new doors in our relationship. First, one month was pretty awkward, but then we became more exposed to each other. We became our best friends, but it never motivated us to get into a physical relationship. Never did I make any attempt, neither did she exhibit any signs.

Ever since I arrived, I noticed Preethi wasn’t the same woman she was before her marriage. She used to be jolly and talkative. It wasn’t the case anymore. She looked as if she’d put on a mask that had a fake smile over it. Not anyone but, I could tell that it was not her authentic smile.

“Are you on your periods even since I arrived?” I passed a comment with my mouth full.

“Shut up, asshole,” She retaliates with a smirk.

“Seriously, Didu… you look glum.” I persisted.

She stared at me as if about to announce something, something which was bothering her.

We were sitting on the chairs next to the dining table.

I was chewing on my dinner. Preethi was seated elegantly on another chair, merely looking at me. I knew how much she loved eating junk food every time she would step outside the house. That’s why I didn’t even bother to ask why she was not eating.

“Don’t talk while you eat. I’ll go change.” She gets up and walks around my chair on her way to the bedroom.

I grabbed her wrist before she could leave and haul her upon my lap. As her squishy buttocks land on my lap, I hold her firmly with my spare hand to keep her from leaving the room.

“I know something is wrong. I won’t let go until you tell me what’s the matter,” I said sincerely.

She squirms on my lap as if not comfortable with my move. It was never the case until now.

“Let me go, Ishu… I’ve to change,” She said, trying to push my hand off her belly.

“Looks like you’ve not been receiving proper treatment in the bed,” I just thought it’d refresh her memories of how we’d often talk openly about such subjects.

She froze monetarily and then kicked my tibia. I let my grip loose promptly, she vaults out of my lap.

“This is not the right way to talk with your sister,” I reprimand. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Fine, whatever,” I shrugged my shoulders to express my annoyance.

“Ishu, you should understand, I’m married now,” She stays put after my reaction, “We will talk about it post-dinner. Okay?” She said meekly.

I keet munching the food and don’t even look at her. She leaves for her bedroom after few seconds. I finish my dinner, wipe my hands with tissue paper. I also put the plate in the sink and then went to the rooftop.

After a while, Preethi shows up on the rooftop wearing short jeans and an orange deep-neck top. The terrace was dark, being lit by only the neighboring buildings and some of the streetlights nearby.

“Ahm,” She clears her throat as she approaches me.

I don’t respond or look at her.

She stands next to me, resting her obese bottom against the parapet.

“Being a wife isn’t easy, you know?” She mumbles.

“Elaborate,” I respond, without any enthusiasm.

She tells me about her marriage life. They’d do it once in a month or two. Even then, her husband won’t last longer than five minutes which wasn’t enough for her lithe body. She was now bored of touching herself to fill the void and was very concerned about living her entire life like this.

I suggest she get a boyfriend.

Her problem was that she was new to the city and had not met any men who’d excite her. Even if she could find someone, there’s still the problem of trust, to keep it a secret. She loved her husband against all the odds; she didn’t want to jeopardize her marital life.

Preethi also told me her husband is a little over four inches. He doesn’t know anything about the union but to hump her until his climax in a missionary position.

Her grief and sorrow made me feel very sad for her. I wonder how I can make her feel better. After considering the solution over a hundred times, I finally held her hand in mine.

“Do you trust me, Didu?” I mumble.

“Yes, asshole, or why would I tell you this?” She responded naively, misunderstanding the question.

“Oh, Didu… you said you can’t risk an affair because you can’t just trust anyone, right? But do you trust me enough?” I break down my question for her.

“What? Ishaan. No, no way.” She flinched.

“I can’t see you like this and do nothing about it,” I said, holding her hand even more firmly and slowly moving around to face her. I’d covered her all the escape routes.

“This isn’t right, Ishaan,” She protests.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it,” I mumble once our lips are inches apart. I push my pelvis against Preethi’s belly to make her feel the warmth.

She doesn’t say anything. We share a brief kiss. Her breathing was ragged so was mine. I break the kiss and wait for her reaction, moving my hips slightly, pushing my pego against her belly. Preethi closes her eyes and bites her lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” I urged, seeking consent.

She opens her eyes and looks at me through her eyelashes gesturing with a nod in denial. I clasp her further tenaciously, and she reciprocates.

To be continued in private.

Just a Roleplay prompt. You may call it, a smut or short-term RP, whatever you prefer. I think the essence of the scene is the sensual moment we’re about to share. It’s something that; titillates me beyond most other things. If you share the same interests as mine, feel free to hit me up.


Have a chat with Kabir Singh