“Papa no! Papa no. I love him. I want to marry him. Papa please, I beg you.”
Upon hearing that, Kartar Singh started kissing her. She kissed him back with all the love in the world. Seeing that, the gun fell from my father’s hands and he dropped back on the sofa, startled. His daughter was kissing a man older than him, she loved him. A man he trusted with his life, he betrayed him by seducing his daughter? He was in shock and went silent.
Kartar Singh saw that opportunity and got hold of the gun again. He pointed it at my father.
“You say you love me? Prove it to your father!”
Saying that, he removed his pyajama and underwear and his dick popped out, fully erect.
“Suck it, bitch!”
“Kartar ji. What are you saying?”
“Suck it or I will kill him!”
“Kartar ji, stop! You’re drunk.”
But Kartar Singh pulled her hair and pushed her downwards. This was a nightmare for my sister. How could she do this, in front of papa? She kept staring at the dick but she loved Kartar Singh and she loved his dick, and more than that, she loved papa. She couldn’t let him die. So, she wrapped her lips around it, reluctantly at first, but then took it in gradually.
“Suck it like you do every day. Or I will shoot him!”
I don’t out of fear or love, she did exactly that. She swirled her tongue around his dick, moving her head backwards and forwards without him pushing. With one hand she grabbed his balls and with the other pulled his hips in her mouth. Kartar Singh pulled her hair harder and kept staring at my father.
“You see that sirjee? This is how she sucks me every day! Haha! She’s a professional.”
My sister now needed no force as she blowed Kartar Singh with so much love. She took him deep in her throat while making slurpy noises. Kartar Singh then lifted her by her hair and kissed her again. Then, just with his left hand, he tore off her shirt. Her boobs came out. They were erect and swollen, a pregnant woman’s boobs.
“Remove your pants!” Kartar Singh ordered.
“Kartar ji. Please stop. Don’t do this to papa, to me.” My sister cried.
“Pant utaar randi!” Kartar Singh smacked her face with the pistol and pinched her boobs.
“No Kartar ji. No baby, don’t do this! Baby, don’t you love me?” My sister cried while removing her pants. My father sat frozen just staring at them both.
“Turn around, you whore!” My sister stood facing our father and Kartar Singh frisked her body from behind. He ran the pistol under her boob and lifted it, giving a clear view to our father. He then started sucking on it.
“Ahh! Baby no. Let’s just go to your village. I will be your wife. I will be your servant, your rakhail. You don’t even have to marry me! Just don’t do this. Leave papa alone.”
“Shut the fuck up and bend down like a kuttiya. Let’s show your father what a bitch you are!”
Kartar Singh bit my sister’s ear and put his finger in her pussy. He moved it around for a bit and then inserted a second finger.
“See, sir ji. Yeh hai aapki beti. See how easily my two fingers entered her.” Then he took the fingers out. They were dripping with her fluids. “Haha. She doesn’t give a fuck about you. Look how wet she is. She is just a whore!”