Below that, she wore a red sleeveless and backless blouse which was draped by a green and red saree. It was a new saree and looked highly expensive. She added more bangles to her arm which clinked as she gracefully tucked a strand of hair from her face behind her ear. The pallu of her saree rest on her arm.
“Vikas, you’re still not ready. Go and get ready soon. I’ll see if Kartar ji is ready or not.” She scolded me and walked towards Kartar Singh’s room. Then I saw he golden sandals as she tip-toed on her heels.
Naturally, I didn’t go to my room and followed her instead.
“How do I look, husband!” She asked him, seductively and with her eyes wide open.
Kartar Singh’s jaw dropped. He got up, enraged with lust, and attacked my sister’s boobs. He tried to pull her into a kiss.
“Not now, jaan! Don’t ruin my make up, we have the whole night for that.”
But Kartar Singh didn’t listen. He turned her around and held both of her boobs in her hand. He started rubbing his dick on her ass. My sister’s mouth opened in lust but she stopped him again.
“Not now, baby. Control!”
Sensing that nothing major was going to happen, I went to my room to get dressed. In those days, there were only 1-2 high class restaurants in Lucknow and we went to one of those after booking a taxi. All the way, Kartar Singh’s eyes were fixated on my sister. The car was filled with the smell of my sister’s enchanting perfume and a musky odour coming from one of the male’s precum. Even the cab driver was staring at my sister in the rearview mirror. How he would have hoped to be someone worthy to woo her. Little did he know that she was already wooed by a man at least two decades older than him and much lower in class.
When we reached the restaurant, we behaved like two kids out to celebrate their guardian’s birthday. But that changed when Kartar Singh drank 3 pegs of an imported scotch. The man who had only tasted cheap liquor was relishing the taste of scotch, on my father’s hard earned money.
We were sitting on a sofa with me in the center. He then asked me to go fetch ice. When I got back, he got closer to my sister and I noticed that even she had drank a peg. He asked me to sit on the other side and shifted my sister in the center.
“Don’t tell it to papa, Vikas. It’s just for today.” My sister drank another peg in front of me. I gave an assuring nod.
After that, my sister wrapped a shawl around her because we were sitting in an open air restaurant and it was still peak winter. But I knew what that shawl was for.
The entire restaurant was checking out my sister, even the women. While all eyes were fixated on her, Kartar Singh fixated on her pussy. I saw his hand from over her shawl as he fingered her gently.
“Ahhh ahem! Vikas, can you go and ask the waiter to bring our food. Let’s eat and leave before it gets late.”
I obediently agreed. When I got back, the scene was bolder. The shawl now covered both of them as my sister’s hand had reached Kartar Singh’s dick. They were giving hand jobs to each other while the entire restaurant watched. Of course, they couldn’t tell. But I’m sure a discerning few would’ve noticed the expressions and the strange ‘closeness’ between an ugly old man and the most beautiful girl they’d ever seen.