Hi everyone, my name is Siddharth Gupta. I am 24 now, doing my MBA in Pune, but this happened last summer when I was 23. We are a typical middle-class family from Lucknow – dad in government job, mom homemaker. My mama lives in the same city with mami and their only daughter Sneha – my mama ki beti, one year younger than me at 22. Sneha and I were very close as kids, spending every summer together at nani’s house, but as we grew into teens, distance crept in because of studies. Still, I always had a soft corner for her... or maybe more than soft. She had blossomed into a complete stunner: fair glowing skin, big doe eyes, long silky black hair till her butt, pouty lips, and a figure that made my heart race whenever I saw her pics on Instagram – 35C-27-37. Her boobs were full and perky, always straining against her tight tops, deep cleavage in low-neck dresses. Her ass was round, juicy, swaying in jeans or salwar suits. I had jerked off to her bikini pics more times than I could count, feeling guilty but unable to stop the taboo thoughts about my own cousin.
Last year, because of my semester break and parents going on a trip, I went to stay at mama’s house for two weeks – first time in years staying over. Mama-mami welcomed me warmly, but Sneha... god, seeing her in person after so long hit me hard. She wore a simple yellow kurti and leggings that hugged her curves perfectly. Big hug at the door – her soft breasts pressing firmly into my chest, her sweet floral perfume filling my nose. “Siddharth bhaiya! Kitne din baad!” she exclaimed, eyes sparkling, but I swear there was a quick glance down my body, lingering on my broad shoulders from gym.
The first few days were normal family time – meals together, outings, late-night talks on the terrace. But the tension built fast. Sneha would wear short nighties at home after mama-mami slept – thin straps, low neck, no bra, her boobs bouncing freely when she walked. She’d sit close while watching TV, thigh pressing mine, or bend to pick something, giving me clear views down her cleavage, pink bra peeking, nipples sometimes outlined. I caught her staring at me when I came from workout, sweaty t-shirt clinging. Once in the kitchen, reaching for the same glass, our hands touched, bodies brushed – her ass against my crotch for a second. My cock twitched hard; she bit her lip but didn’t move away immediately.
I started suspecting she had a boyfriend from her secretive phone behavior – late-night texting, giggling, sneaking out for “friend meets.” One evening, curiosity got me. She said she was going to tuition but came back late. I followed quietly on my bike. She met a guy in a park – some average-looking college dude. They sat close, holding hands, then kissing passionately under a tree. He had hands on her boobs over clothes; she was moaning softly. My blood boiled with jealousy – this was my mama ki beti – but cock hardened watching. I took clear photos and a short video on my phone from hiding – faces visible, her hand on his crotch too.
That night, back home, I couldn’t sleep. Images of Sneha kissing him mixed with my fantasies of her with me. Next morning, when mama-mami went to market and we were alone, I confronted her in her room.
“Sneha, kal kya kar rahi thi park mein?” I asked casually, showing her the photos on my phone. Her face went pale, eyes wide with shock. “Bhaiya... yeh... please delete kar do! Agar mama ko pata chala toh maar dalenge!” She begged, tears forming, hands clasped. The power rush was intoxicating – my hot cousin pleading.
I smirked, stepping closer. “Delete kar doon? Itna aasan nahi. Tu mujhe avoid karti rahi, ab thoda price dena padega.” She looked scared but nodded. “Kya chahiye?”
“Pehle... ek kiss.” I said, heart pounding. She hesitated, then stepped forward, pecked my cheek quickly. “Nahi, proper kiss. Lips pe.”
She bit her lip – those full pouty lips – then leaned in. Our lips met softly at first, then deeper as I pulled her waist. Her mouth opened, tongue shyly touching mine. She tasted sweet like strawberry gum. My hands roamed her back, down to cup her ass over leggings – so soft and full. She moaned softly into the kiss, “Mmm... bhaiya...” but pulled back breathing heavy. “Bas? Delete kar do ab.”
I laughed. “Abhi toh shuruat hai. Photos safe hain mere cloud pe. Roz thoda thoda... warna mama ko forward kar doonga.”
The blackmail was light – more excuse than force, because I could see desire in her eyes too. That afternoon, in the guest room while she “helped” me study, I made her sit on my lap. Her ass ground against my hard cock as I kissed her neck, hands sliding under her top to feel bare waist, then up to cup her bra-covered boobs. They were perfect handfuls – soft yet firm, nipples hardening under my thumbs. “Ahhh... bhaiya... yeh galat hai...” she whispered, but arched back, pressing harder.
Over next days, it escalated. Evening terrace – I made her flash boobs quickly: lifted her t-shirt and bra, those creamy 35C breasts with light pink areolas and erect nipples exposed in moonlight. I sucked them hungrily for minutes, tasting her salty skin, while she stifled moans, hand inside my shorts stroking my cock. “Bhaiya ka itna bada... boyfriend se bhi bada,” she admitted breathlessly.
The full surrender came on the fifth night. Mama-mami had early dinner and slept after medicine. Heavy monsoon rain outside, power cut, candles lit. Sneha came to my room in excuse of fear of thunder, wearing a thin pink nighty – almost see-through, no bra, panties outline visible. We sat on bed talking, tension thick. I showed phone again – “Last chance to convince me to delete.”
She straddled my lap suddenly, kissing fiercely. “Bhaiya... mujhe chod lo... photos jo karna hai kar lo, but please fuck me.” The words from my cousin’s mouth broke me.
We kissed hungrily – tongues battling, her grinding on my bulge. I pulled nighty straps down slowly, exposing her magnificent breasts. Up close they were flawless – round, perky, silky smooth skin, nipples begging. I devoured them: sucking one deep, tongue swirling, biting gently while kneading the other. She moaned loudly, “Ahhh... Siddharth bhaiya... chuso mere boobs... haan zor se... kitne din se socha tha tumhare baare mein.” Her confession fueled me – she wanted this too.
My hands slid under nighty – she was soaking wet, cotton panties drenched. I rubbed her pussy over fabric, feeling swollen lips, clit hard. She bucked, “Please bhaiya... touch karo properly.” I laid her back, removed nighty completely. Naked Sneha was a goddess – trimmed pussy, pink lips glistening, musky scent driving me mad.
I kissed down her body – neck, boobs, stomach, inner thighs. Spread her legs wide, inhaled deeply, then licked her slit bottom to top. Taste – sweet tangy nectar. She cried out, “Oh god... bhaiya ki zubaan... ahhh chut chat rahe ho apni mama ki beti ki...” I lapped hungrily – circling clit, sucking lips, two fingers pumping inside her tight hot walls. She came hard within minutes – body shaking, juices flooding my mouth, thighs clamping my head, screaming “Aaaahhh... cumming bhaiya... haaan!”
She pulled me up, tasting herself on my lips, then pushed me back. Tugged my shorts off – my 7-inch thick cock sprang free, pre-cum leaking. Her eyes widened, “Bhaiya ka lund... itna mota...” She stroked slowly, then leaned down, licking pre-cum, swirling tongue around head. Warm wet mouth took me in – sucking eagerly, bobbing, saliva dripping, looking up with those innocent eyes turned slutty. “Teri muh... Sneha... kitni garam hai,” I groaned, hands in her hair.
Couldn’t wait longer. Positioned between her legs, rubbed cock along wet slit. “Daal do bhaiya... mama ki beti ki chut mein apna lund...” she begged. I pushed in slowly – incredibly tight, hot velvet gripping inch by inch. Fully buried, we moaned together at the forbidden connection. “Ahhh... poora andar... bhaiya ne chod diya mujhe...”
Started thrusting – slow deep strokes, her boobs bouncing hypnotically. Increased pace, pounding harder. Room filled with skin slapping, wet squelching, her moans “Haan bhaiya... zor se... chod apni cousin ko... ahhh blackmail kar ke pel rahe ho!” Sweat covered us in humid night. I kissed her deeply while fucking, feeling nails dig my back.
She came first – pussy clenching rhythmically, body arching, screaming “I’m cumming... bhaiya ke lund se... haaan!” I followed soon – thrust deep, exploding inside, thick ropes filling her womb with cousin cum. Creampie felt insanely taboo erotic.
But we were far from done. She climbed on top after minutes – pussy sloppy with mixed juices dripping down. Rode me cowgirl – grinding clit, bouncing hard, boobs jiggling in my face. I sucked them while she rode, hands spanking her ass. “Ahhh... bhaiya... tera lund meri chut mein perfect... boyfriend ko bhool gayi,” she gasped, cumming twice more.
Then doggy – her favorite. On all fours, round ass up – view heavenly. I slammed in, watching cock disappear into pink depths, ass rippling. Pulled hair gently, “Le Sneha... mama ki beti ko chod raha hoon... blackmail se ya dil se?” She pushed back, “Dono se... haan zor se pel!” Reached around to rub clit, making her squirt slightly.
Multiple rounds – missionary again slow intimate, then spooning with deep thrusts, final explosive creampie missionary, kissing passionately as we came together.
We collapsed, bodies entwined, sticky with sweat and cum. She lay on my chest, my softening cock still inside. “Photos delete kar do na ab bhaiya... I’m all yours,” she whispered. I did delete them next day – blackmail was just the spark; real desire was mutual.
Rest of the stay – we fucked daily, multiple times: quickies in bathroom, terrace under stars, even risky while mama watched TV downstairs. The cousin taboo thrill never faded.
Even now when we meet at family functions, secret touches and stolen nights continue. Sneha is my forbidden lover forever.
Last year, because of my semester break and parents going on a trip, I went to stay at mama’s house for two weeks – first time in years staying over. Mama-mami welcomed me warmly, but Sneha... god, seeing her in person after so long hit me hard. She wore a simple yellow kurti and leggings that hugged her curves perfectly. Big hug at the door – her soft breasts pressing firmly into my chest, her sweet floral perfume filling my nose. “Siddharth bhaiya! Kitne din baad!” she exclaimed, eyes sparkling, but I swear there was a quick glance down my body, lingering on my broad shoulders from gym.
The first few days were normal family time – meals together, outings, late-night talks on the terrace. But the tension built fast. Sneha would wear short nighties at home after mama-mami slept – thin straps, low neck, no bra, her boobs bouncing freely when she walked. She’d sit close while watching TV, thigh pressing mine, or bend to pick something, giving me clear views down her cleavage, pink bra peeking, nipples sometimes outlined. I caught her staring at me when I came from workout, sweaty t-shirt clinging. Once in the kitchen, reaching for the same glass, our hands touched, bodies brushed – her ass against my crotch for a second. My cock twitched hard; she bit her lip but didn’t move away immediately.
I started suspecting she had a boyfriend from her secretive phone behavior – late-night texting, giggling, sneaking out for “friend meets.” One evening, curiosity got me. She said she was going to tuition but came back late. I followed quietly on my bike. She met a guy in a park – some average-looking college dude. They sat close, holding hands, then kissing passionately under a tree. He had hands on her boobs over clothes; she was moaning softly. My blood boiled with jealousy – this was my mama ki beti – but cock hardened watching. I took clear photos and a short video on my phone from hiding – faces visible, her hand on his crotch too.
That night, back home, I couldn’t sleep. Images of Sneha kissing him mixed with my fantasies of her with me. Next morning, when mama-mami went to market and we were alone, I confronted her in her room.
“Sneha, kal kya kar rahi thi park mein?” I asked casually, showing her the photos on my phone. Her face went pale, eyes wide with shock. “Bhaiya... yeh... please delete kar do! Agar mama ko pata chala toh maar dalenge!” She begged, tears forming, hands clasped. The power rush was intoxicating – my hot cousin pleading.
I smirked, stepping closer. “Delete kar doon? Itna aasan nahi. Tu mujhe avoid karti rahi, ab thoda price dena padega.” She looked scared but nodded. “Kya chahiye?”
“Pehle... ek kiss.” I said, heart pounding. She hesitated, then stepped forward, pecked my cheek quickly. “Nahi, proper kiss. Lips pe.”
She bit her lip – those full pouty lips – then leaned in. Our lips met softly at first, then deeper as I pulled her waist. Her mouth opened, tongue shyly touching mine. She tasted sweet like strawberry gum. My hands roamed her back, down to cup her ass over leggings – so soft and full. She moaned softly into the kiss, “Mmm... bhaiya...” but pulled back breathing heavy. “Bas? Delete kar do ab.”
I laughed. “Abhi toh shuruat hai. Photos safe hain mere cloud pe. Roz thoda thoda... warna mama ko forward kar doonga.”
The blackmail was light – more excuse than force, because I could see desire in her eyes too. That afternoon, in the guest room while she “helped” me study, I made her sit on my lap. Her ass ground against my hard cock as I kissed her neck, hands sliding under her top to feel bare waist, then up to cup her bra-covered boobs. They were perfect handfuls – soft yet firm, nipples hardening under my thumbs. “Ahhh... bhaiya... yeh galat hai...” she whispered, but arched back, pressing harder.
Over next days, it escalated. Evening terrace – I made her flash boobs quickly: lifted her t-shirt and bra, those creamy 35C breasts with light pink areolas and erect nipples exposed in moonlight. I sucked them hungrily for minutes, tasting her salty skin, while she stifled moans, hand inside my shorts stroking my cock. “Bhaiya ka itna bada... boyfriend se bhi bada,” she admitted breathlessly.
The full surrender came on the fifth night. Mama-mami had early dinner and slept after medicine. Heavy monsoon rain outside, power cut, candles lit. Sneha came to my room in excuse of fear of thunder, wearing a thin pink nighty – almost see-through, no bra, panties outline visible. We sat on bed talking, tension thick. I showed phone again – “Last chance to convince me to delete.”
She straddled my lap suddenly, kissing fiercely. “Bhaiya... mujhe chod lo... photos jo karna hai kar lo, but please fuck me.” The words from my cousin’s mouth broke me.
We kissed hungrily – tongues battling, her grinding on my bulge. I pulled nighty straps down slowly, exposing her magnificent breasts. Up close they were flawless – round, perky, silky smooth skin, nipples begging. I devoured them: sucking one deep, tongue swirling, biting gently while kneading the other. She moaned loudly, “Ahhh... Siddharth bhaiya... chuso mere boobs... haan zor se... kitne din se socha tha tumhare baare mein.” Her confession fueled me – she wanted this too.
My hands slid under nighty – she was soaking wet, cotton panties drenched. I rubbed her pussy over fabric, feeling swollen lips, clit hard. She bucked, “Please bhaiya... touch karo properly.” I laid her back, removed nighty completely. Naked Sneha was a goddess – trimmed pussy, pink lips glistening, musky scent driving me mad.
I kissed down her body – neck, boobs, stomach, inner thighs. Spread her legs wide, inhaled deeply, then licked her slit bottom to top. Taste – sweet tangy nectar. She cried out, “Oh god... bhaiya ki zubaan... ahhh chut chat rahe ho apni mama ki beti ki...” I lapped hungrily – circling clit, sucking lips, two fingers pumping inside her tight hot walls. She came hard within minutes – body shaking, juices flooding my mouth, thighs clamping my head, screaming “Aaaahhh... cumming bhaiya... haaan!”
She pulled me up, tasting herself on my lips, then pushed me back. Tugged my shorts off – my 7-inch thick cock sprang free, pre-cum leaking. Her eyes widened, “Bhaiya ka lund... itna mota...” She stroked slowly, then leaned down, licking pre-cum, swirling tongue around head. Warm wet mouth took me in – sucking eagerly, bobbing, saliva dripping, looking up with those innocent eyes turned slutty. “Teri muh... Sneha... kitni garam hai,” I groaned, hands in her hair.
Couldn’t wait longer. Positioned between her legs, rubbed cock along wet slit. “Daal do bhaiya... mama ki beti ki chut mein apna lund...” she begged. I pushed in slowly – incredibly tight, hot velvet gripping inch by inch. Fully buried, we moaned together at the forbidden connection. “Ahhh... poora andar... bhaiya ne chod diya mujhe...”
Started thrusting – slow deep strokes, her boobs bouncing hypnotically. Increased pace, pounding harder. Room filled with skin slapping, wet squelching, her moans “Haan bhaiya... zor se... chod apni cousin ko... ahhh blackmail kar ke pel rahe ho!” Sweat covered us in humid night. I kissed her deeply while fucking, feeling nails dig my back.
She came first – pussy clenching rhythmically, body arching, screaming “I’m cumming... bhaiya ke lund se... haaan!” I followed soon – thrust deep, exploding inside, thick ropes filling her womb with cousin cum. Creampie felt insanely taboo erotic.
But we were far from done. She climbed on top after minutes – pussy sloppy with mixed juices dripping down. Rode me cowgirl – grinding clit, bouncing hard, boobs jiggling in my face. I sucked them while she rode, hands spanking her ass. “Ahhh... bhaiya... tera lund meri chut mein perfect... boyfriend ko bhool gayi,” she gasped, cumming twice more.
Then doggy – her favorite. On all fours, round ass up – view heavenly. I slammed in, watching cock disappear into pink depths, ass rippling. Pulled hair gently, “Le Sneha... mama ki beti ko chod raha hoon... blackmail se ya dil se?” She pushed back, “Dono se... haan zor se pel!” Reached around to rub clit, making her squirt slightly.
Multiple rounds – missionary again slow intimate, then spooning with deep thrusts, final explosive creampie missionary, kissing passionately as we came together.
We collapsed, bodies entwined, sticky with sweat and cum. She lay on my chest, my softening cock still inside. “Photos delete kar do na ab bhaiya... I’m all yours,” she whispered. I did delete them next day – blackmail was just the spark; real desire was mutual.
Rest of the stay – we fucked daily, multiple times: quickies in bathroom, terrace under stars, even risky while mama watched TV downstairs. The cousin taboo thrill never faded.
Even now when we meet at family functions, secret touches and stolen nights continue. Sneha is my forbidden lover forever.