“Stop crying!”
But tears kept rolling down her face.
“Stop crying, I said!” He removed his dick from her mouth and puller her hair.
“Do you want me to stop fucking you?”
“No!” My sister replied meekly.
“Then beg for it.”
“Fuck me, Kartar ji.”
“I love you, baby. Fuck me, fuck your wife. Please, please, please!”
Her tears dried up as she tried to lift herself to kiss Kartar Singh. But he threw her back on the bed and climbed in behind her. He made her face the side towards the door, where I was standing, hidden. I could see sadness on her face but more lust.
Kartar Singh kissed her neck and back and removed her panties. Then, he lifted her saree towards her stomach and asked her to get in the doggy position. She instantly agreed and lifted her ass to give him easy access.
“Enter me, baby. I have waited all day to feel your lund inside me.”
Kartar Singh entered her in one stroke.
“Ahhhhhh. Ahh my love. Muah muah. Fuckkk!”
“Say I am a little bitch who loves this old uncle’s lund!”
“I am a little bitch who loves this old uncle’s lund!”
This was the first time I had such a clear view of my sister’s face while getting fucked. She really loved the old man’s dick. Her eyes were rolled in ecstasy and her make up ruined. But she still looked so pretty wearing that saree, her bangles clanking and her hair falling down the edge of the bed. Maybe she loved the violence or maybe she was just ignoring it out of love, but her face just had lust.
“Say Kartar Singh owns this pussy!”
“Kartar Singh own ahhhh faster, owns this pussy!”
Kartar Singh fucked her mercilessly. The entire house was filled with their moans and creaking of the poor old bed. I thought the bed would definitely break, such was his raw passion that night.
“Say no other lund can fuck this little girl!”
“No other lund can fuck this little girl!”
“Say you want to have this old man’s baby inside you!”
“Ahh, ahh arghh. Kartar ji, my love, I want so many of your babies inside me.”
“Take it then, little whore!” Kartar Singh shot loads of cum inside her pussy and I could see how her face showed happiness with each shot.
“Ahh, husband, fill me up. God, your cum feels so good. Don’t remove your dick please. Stay inside, empty your balls inside me.”
Kartar Singh then collapsed on her. She loved it as the fat old man’s weight fell on her while his dick still stroked her pussy.
Her hair were a mess and so was her saree. But she looked prettier than ever. Kartar Singh couldn’t resist as he pulled her into a kiss.
“Sorry jaan for being so rude. It turns me on.”
“You’re my husband, Kartar Singh. You have the right to do whatever you want with me.” She turned around and wrapped him in his legs. Giving him more long kisses.
“And it’s my duty to serve you all the time!”
“Happy birthday, husband. Get ready for another session.”
***
A few weeks after Kartar Singh’s birthday, I bunked school again, hoping to catch some intense fucking at home. However, things were a different that day.
Kartar Singh was drinking in his room. My sister walked in with a tray that had a glass and some snacks, wearing a salwar kameez, with her head covered with a dupatta.