My Sister and the Tenant

After that appalling sight of my sister and Kartar Singh making out, I couldn’t focus at all on my classes the next day. All I could think of was that bulky old guy fingering my innocent sister while kissing her like a lover.

Her moans were still ringing in my ears. I had heard her say, ‘Kartar Ji’ so many times but the way she moaned his name that night, it made my blood boil. The way she wrapped her arms around him, let him lick her throat, oh god, I couldn’t bear it. She rejected such smart, intelligent and talented individuals, only to end up in the lap of this illiterate old man who was even older than our father?

While I was immersed in all these thoughts, I noticed my penis was tearing through my underwear. I had a massive boner, in class. I couldn’t sit properly, I wanted to jack off so bad. Confused, I raised my hand in the middle of the class and told the teacher I wasn’t feeling well. She could see me covered in sweat, pale in the face and panting. She sympathised and asked me to take the day off and return home. The student on the first bench gave me a bottle of cold water which helped me calm down and calmed my boner down as well.

Restless, I took a rickshaw back home. My sister used to be in her college at that hour but I was sure Kartar Singh would be home. I didn’t want to face him but I had nowhere else to go. I thought, I would just barge in, tell him I’m unwell and disappear in my room. I wanted to call dad and tell everything to him. But like they say, curiosity killed the cat. I was curious as to what exactly happened.

When I reached home, I realised the front door was open. Even though, at the back of my mind, I was expecting to see what I saw in a few moments, I still treaded with weak knees. My heart was throbbing and I could feel it pump in my ears. There was an eerie silence.

“She wouldn’t bunk college for him? Would she?” I thought to myself. She never missed her classes, even when she was sick. There was a reason she was the favourite of all her teachers. But my guess was right. I carefully walked towards Kartar Singh’s room and there they were!

The scene was quite similar to the one I saw the day before but it was much more silent, much more intimate. My sister was wearing a sleeveless, orange-coloured kurta with a salwar with the same bangles and earrings as last night. She left her hair open which Kartar Singh was pulling in in his fist as they kissed madly. At first, it was a simpler smooch, they were chewing each other’s lips. But then it got crazier as things heated up. She took out her tongue first which Kartar Singh immediately grasped with his own tongue and that made my sister moan.

She adjusted her hips and made her hug tighter around him. Her thin arms, wrapped against the old man’s thick body circumference. They were at it for a good 5 minutes when they broke the kiss and looked at each other with lust. Kartar Singh made a questioning nod towards her to which she replied with a affirmative nod. It was a signal to take things forward.

Please wait…

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