My name is Sanjay Malviya and I am thirty-eight years old, the eldest son of the house, running our family’s thirty-year-old textile wholesale shop in the heart of Sarafa Bazaar, Bhopal. The house is one of those traditional three-storey wadas in the old Juni Indore area — thick stone walls that keep the rooms cool even in forty-five-degree summers, high ceilings with old wooden beams, a central courtyard where maa still grows tulsi and seasonal marigolds, narrow wooden staircases that echo every footstep, and a flat terrace where we sleep during power cuts. The air inside always carries the faint scent of maa’s homemade garam masala, burning camphor from evening puja, and the sweet rose attar that my wife Neelam used to wear before her illness confined her to bed.
Neelam, my wife of fourteen years, is thirty-six now. She was diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis combined with slipped disc two years ago. Doctors said complete bed rest for minimum six months, strong medicines, physiotherapy, no household work at all. She is confined to our first-floor bedroom — the same room where we spent our suhaagraat — now turned into a semi-hospital with medicines on the side table, walker beside the bed, and a small bell she rings when she needs help. The pain is bad some days, bearable on others, but the medicines make her sleep most of the time. She is still beautiful — fair skin, long hair, gentle smile — but the illness has taken away her strength, her confidence, her ability to be the wife she once was. I love her deeply, I take care of her every need, I sit with her every evening holding her hand telling her she will get better soon, but the truth is the physical side of our marriage has been dead for almost two years. I never complained. I never looked outside. I told myself this is my duty, my karma, my patience will be rewarded.
Then came my younger brother Rohit’s wife — my devarani — Kavya.
Kavya is twenty-six, married to Rohit four years ago. She is from a small town near Ujjain — fair like fresh malai, medium height, very traditional looks — always in simple cotton sarees or salwar suits during the day, but at night she wears those thin pastel-coloured nighties that Neelam used to tease her about: “Arre Kavya, yeh toh bilkul heroine wali nighty hai!” Kavya always blushed and said “Bhabhi, aap hi toh dilwayi thi shopping mein.” Everyone in the family loved her — soft-spoken, excellent cook, takes care of maa like her own mother, never raised her voice. The perfect devarani.
When Neelam fell seriously ill the entire household load fell on Kavya. Cooking for eight to nine people twice a day, washing clothes, cleaning the house, taking care of the children’s studies (my two kids — daughter in class 10, son in class 7), maa’s diabetes medicines, and now also looking after her bedridden bhabhi — giving her medicines, helping her to the bathroom, massaging her legs when the pain became unbearable. Kavya never complained. Never. But I started noticing the changes.
She became thinner. Dark circles appeared under her eyes. But strangely… more beautiful. The exhaustion gave her face a delicate, almost fragile glow. And the nighties… because of the constant running up and down stairs she stopped caring about modesty after 10 p.m. The nighties became shorter — ending mid-thigh. Thin straps kept slipping. No bra underneath most nights because “garmi bohot hai jeth ji, bra se aur pasina aata hai.” I tried not to look. I told myself she is devarani, younger brother’s wife, respect her like your own sister. But every night when I went to Neelam’s room to give her medicines I had to pass Kavya’s room and the door was always slightly open, the night lamp casting soft golden light on her sleeping form — nighty ridden up, thighs exposed, one strap fallen, breast almost spilling out. I felt ashamed of the thoughts that came. I felt ashamed of the hardness in my pajamas. I told myself this is wrong, stop, you are the elder, the responsible one. But the thoughts came anyway, stronger every day.
The first real incident happened in October. It was a Sunday afternoon, power cut as usual, the house quiet except for the slow whirring of the inverter fan in Neelam’s room. Maa had gone to her sister’s place in Bittan Market for lunch and would return only in the evening. My kids were at tuition. Rohit was on a two-day tour to Indore for business. The house was suddenly empty except for me, Kavya, and Neelam sleeping heavily under the effect of painkillers. I was in the living room trying to read a ledger when Kavya came from the kitchen wearing a thin sky-blue satin nighty, straps slipped off both shoulders, the front so low that almost three-fourths of her breasts were visible — soft, milky white, nipples just barely hidden by the edge of fabric. Hair loose, messy from the day’s work. Sweat beads on her neck and upper chest. She carried a glass of buttermilk and said Jeth ji garmi se thak gaye ho na? Yeh pee lo. When she bent to place the glass on the table the nighty neckline fell completely exposing both breasts fully — full, round, dark areola, nipples hard from the cool air. She stayed bent for a few seconds longer than necessary letting me look then slowly straightened smiled softly and whispered sorry jeth ji… strap dhila ho gaya.
I felt my throat go dry, my lund harden instantly. I tried to look away stammered koi baat nahi Kavya… but she didn’t move away. Instead she stepped closer stood right in front of me between my legs so close I could smell her — fresh soap jasmine and something musky underneath. She placed her hand on my shoulder squeezed gently and whispered Jeth ji aap bhi thak gaye honge… Neelam bhabhi ki seva karte karte… aapka bhi koi khayal nahi rakhta. Her voice was soft almost broken. I managed to say Kavya tu bhi bohot mehnat karti hai rest kar le. She gave a small sad smile and then… she did the unthinkable. She took my hand placed it on her waist right above where the nighty ended. Bare skin. Warm. Soft. Slightly damp with sweat.
I should have pulled my hand away. I should have stood up. I should have reminded her she is my devarani my younger brother’s wife. Instead my fingers tightened slightly on her waist. She shivered. Closed her eyes for a second like she was savouring the touch. Then opened them looked straight at me and whispered Jeth ji… bas thodi der… mujhe yaad dilwa do ki main bhi koi aurat hoon… koi aurat jo chhuti jaati hai. That broke something inside me.
I pulled her into my arms. First hug — tight desperate. She buried her face in my chest. I could feel her heart hammering. Then I lifted her chin. Our lips met. First kiss — hesitant trembling. Then deeper. Hungry. Her tongue shy at first then bold. Taste of buttermilk and cardamom on her lips. We kissed for long minutes in that silent living room with Neelam sleeping upstairs. My hands roamed — down her back over her hips squeezing her soft gaand through satin. She moaned softly into my mouth uffff… jeth ji…
I lifted her onto the sofa. Nighty hiked up. No panty. Her choot was already wet — glistening in the dim light. I touched her there — first time. She gasped aaaahhhh… I fingered her slowly then faster feeling her tight walls clench around me while she moaned continuously ungli andar daal jeth ji chachi ki choot mein ungli kar zor se kar. She came hard shaking violently biting her own hand to muffle the scream aaaahhhhh jhad rahi hoon jeth ji. After that she pushed me back freed my lund stroked it slowly whispered kitna bada hai aapka lund jeth ji Neelam bhabhi kitni lucky thi. Then she took me in her mouth sucked slowly tongue swirling around the topi taking me deep until I came in her mouth hot thick spurts and she swallowed every drop licked her lips saying aapka maal kitna garam kitna tasty hai jeth ji mujhe roz chahiye ab.
We did not stop there. I pulled her nighty up ate her choot for the first time — tongue inside circling clit sucking hard fingers pumping deep. She came again shaking violently squirting on my face. Then she climbed on top guided my lund inside her slowly taking me inch by inch aaaahhhh kitna mota hai aapka lund jeth ji chachi ki choot phaad doge. She rode me hard bouncing her breasts in my face while I sucked them slapped her gaand lightly making her moan zor se maar jeth ji apni chachi ki gaand maar zor se. We changed positions missionary with her legs over my shoulders deep hard thrusts doggy where I held her hips pounded from behind watching her gaand jiggle reverse cowgirl so I could see her choot swallowing my lund completely. She came four times clenching around me milking me before I exploded inside her garam garam maal daal de jeth ji chachi ke andar bhar de poora bhar de.
We lay there panting sweating under the slow fan her head on my chest whispering Jeth ji yeh galat hai par chachi ko ab sirf aap chahiye roz dopahar roz raat ko. Guilt crashed over me like a wave — she is devarani my younger brother’s wife — but the addiction had already begun.
From that Sunday afternoon our secret life started. Maa and papa were home most days but we found ways — quick afternoon sessions when they went to market or temple long bathroom fucks when they napped early morning quickies before anyone woke. Nights when everyone slept she would come to my room or call me to hers. We explored everything — slow love-making with deep kisses rough fucking with hair pulling biting slapping. She taught me how to eat her choot properly tongue on her clit slow circles then fast flicks fingers in her g-spot until she squirted on my face zor se chaat jeth ji jeebh andar daal poori choot chaat le chachi ka pani pee le. I learned how to make her come multiple times how to bite her nipples just hard enough to make her scream softly how to finger her gaand lightly teasing the tight hole while I licked her choot. She sucked my lund every time sometimes slow worshipful sometimes fast sloppy until I came in her mouth on her breasts even once on her face which she licked clean saying jeth ji chachi ko aapka maal har jagah pasand hai.
When we finally did full intercourse it was on a Thursday afternoon when maa went to the doctor with papa for his routine check-up and the kids were at tuition. Kavya was wild that day she wore a red chiffon saree with matching low-cut blouse no bra underneath hair open sindoor bright in her maang like a married woman ready for her husband. She locked my room door pushed me on the bed lifted her saree no panty underneath guided my lund inside her slowly taking me inch by inch aaaahhhh kitna bada hai aapka lund jeth ji chachi ki choot phaad doge. She rode me hard bouncing her breasts in my face while I sucked them slapped her gaand lightly making her moan zor se maar jeth ji apni chachi ki gaand maar zor se. We changed positions missionary with her legs over my shoulders deep hard thrusts hitting her cervix doggy where I held her hips pounded from behind watching her gaand jiggle reverse cowgirl so I could see her choot swallowing my lund completely. She came four times clenching around me milking me before I exploded inside her garam garam maal daal de jeth ji chachi ke andar bhar de poora bhar de. We stayed connected long after panting sweating under the slow fan her head on my chest whispering jeth ji yeh galat hai par chachi ko ab sirf aap chahiye roz dopahar roz raat ko.
The guilt was constant sharp painful every morning when she served breakfast to Rohit when he was home she looked like the ideal wife touching his feet asking about his night shift while the same night she had begged me to chod zor se. But the guilt only made the desire stronger the forbidden thrill more addictive. We started taking bigger risks daytime quickies in the bathroom when maa and papa were out her bent over the sink saree hiked up me pounding from behind hand over her mouth to keep quiet. Once even in the kitchen while maa was upstairs resting she pulled me behind the door lifted her saree let me take her standing against the wall fast hard desperate while maa called her name from above. Every time I came inside her no pulling out just filling my own devarani with my seed the thought of what could happen only making it hotter more dangerous.
When Rohit is home on weekends the tension becomes unbearable. Kavya becomes more daring — during family dinner she sits beside me under the table her foot rubs my lund slowly while Rohit talks about business completely unaware. Once when Rohit was taking bath she slipped into my room for three minutes sucked me off swallowed my cum then went back to serve him tea with the taste of her jeth’s seed on her lips smiling innocently at everyone.
Months passed the affair deepened emotionally too. She told me how Rohit had become distant after marriage how his job consumed him how he barely touched her anymore how she felt like a widow in her own house how she suppressed her desires for years until I awakened them with one look one touch. I told her how I had always admired her beauty how seeing her in nighties made me hard how the guilt kills me every day but I can’t live without her touch her moans her choot clenching around me. We cried together sometimes made love slowly tenderly with deep eye contact and whispered I love yous other times fucked like animals raw desperate animalistic. She started saying dangerous things jeth ji agar chachi pregnant ho gayi toh sabko lagega Rohit ka hai par chachi jaanti hai yeh aapka hai aapka aur chachi ka. The thought terrified me excited me beyond words made me fill her even more.
Now January 13 2026 Rohit is on a month-long training in Indore. The kids are at school all day. Maa-papa are planning their Ujjain trip next month. Kavya has already told maa she will stay back because of her “back pain”. Those thirty days will be ours — full days full nights no hiding no hurry complete surrender. No shop for me some days no office for anyone. The house will be empty except for us. She wants me to take her in every room every corner — kitchen courtyard terrace maa-papa’s room even the puja room where she does her daily worship. She wants me to fill her every time no condom no pulling out. She whispers jeth ji agar is mahine mein pet ho gaya toh chachi khush hogi aapka baccha paalne mein.
I know this is the ultimate sin. I know one day it will destroy everything — Neelam’s trust family honor my marriage her dignity. But when Kavya calls me when she looks at me with those dark hungry eyes when she spreads her legs whispers jeth ji ab chod apni chachi ko zor se chod I can’t stop. This sin this love this addiction has become my oxygen.
Tonight maa-papa are sleeping early after long day. Kavya is waiting in her room wearing her favorite red chiffon saree low-cut blouse no bra underneath hair open eyes full of promise. I will go to her. I will kiss her deeply suck her nipples until she begs eat her choot until she squirts fuck her in every position fill her with my cum while she moans jeth ji bhar de chachi ke andar poora bhar de.
Tomorrow morning she will serve breakfast call me jeth ji sweetly in front of everyone while my seed leaks out under her saree.
This is our life now — daylight respect midnight sin. Guilt is there sharp like knife but desire is bigger. Love is there twisted forbidden but real. And we can’t stop. We won’t stop.
The nights stretch on. The risks grow. The creampies continue. Every time I fill her I imagine the impossible — a child that is ours but never can be acknowledged. The thought terrifies me arouses me binds me tighter to her. Kavya has become my obsession my weakness my reason to breathe my secret sin.
In the old wadas of Juni Indore where life moves slowly and secrets hide behind thick stone walls we keep burning together — two souls trapped in a love that should never exist but feels more real than anything else in this world.
And so it continues — more afternoons more midnights more positions more whispered jeth ji more creampies more love wrapped in guilt wrapped in ecstasy wrapped in the unbreakable forbidden bond between a jeth and his devarani.
The small everyday moments are what make this addiction so impossible to break. Every morning Kavya wakes up early does her puja lights the diya in the small mandir offers flowers to Devi Maa with the same hands that stroked me to hardness only hours ago that guided me inside her that milked my cum deep in her womb. She applies fresh sindoor in her maang wears her simple cotton saree then comes to wake me with a soft kiss on my forehead jeth ji uthiye chai bana di hai. The contrast is maddening — the same woman who begged me to chod zor se the night before now looks like the perfect devoted devarani. The guilt hits hardest in those moments I feel like vomiting sometimes but then she brushes her breast against my arm while serving breakfast or whispers dopahar ko sab so jayenge tab wait karna and the guilt melts into anticipation again.
We developed secret codes. When she wears her red chiffon saree with deep neck blouse it means she wants slow love-making gentle kisses long foreplay. When she wears black satin nighty it means she wants rough hard pounding slapping biting marking. When she leaves her bedroom door slightly open after maa-papa sleep it means come now quick silent fuck while they snore next door. The risk is insane — once maa almost woke up when Kavya moaned a little too loud during a quick doggy in her own bedroom I had to cover her mouth with my hand thrust deep to shut her up while maa turned over and went back to sleep. The fear the adrenaline the way her choot clenched harder in that moment made us both come instantly.
During day time when maa goes to market or temple we take bigger risks. Once maa went to buy vegetables for three hours Kavya pulled me to the terrace locked the door lifted her saree no panty underneath bent over the parapet guided me inside her from behind. I fucked her hard fast the city noise below covering our moans while she bit her pallu to stay quiet. I came inside her in under four minutes cum dripping down her thighs while she fixed her saree and went back downstairs smiling normally when maa returned. Another time when papa was at doctor’s check-up Kavya came to my room at noon wore nothing but her sindoor and mangalsutra lay naked on my bed spread her legs said jeth ji abhi chod chachi ko din mein din mein chod. I ate her choot for twenty minutes made her come twice then fucked her missionary slow deep while sunlight streamed through the window making her skin glow. She came again clenching milking me before I filled her whispering jeth ji chachi ke pet mein aapka maal daal de.
The emotional layers are just as intense. Some nights after sex she cries softly in my arms saying jeth ji mujhe bohot guilty feel hota hai Neelam bhabhi ke saath yeh kar rahi hoon par ruk nahi paati… aapse pyar ho gaya hai real wala pyar. I hold her tight kiss her tears tell her I feel the same guilt every day but the love is stronger that I can’t live without her touch her moans her choot clenching around me. We talk about impossible future — running away to some small town living as husband-wife under new names or careful plans to continue this forever without anyone knowing. She has started taking contraceptive pills secretly because pregnancy risk is too high but sometimes she forgets on purpose whispers agar ho gaya toh chachi khush hogi aapka baccha paalne mein. The thought scares me but also arouses me like nothing else making me take her harder deeper filling her with even more cum.
As January 13 2026 continues Rohit is still on training. The kids are at school all day. Maa-papa are planning their Ujjain trip next month. Kavya has already told maa she will stay back because of her “back pain”. Those thirty days will be ours — full days full nights no hiding no hurry complete surrender. No shop some days no office for anyone. The house will be empty except for us. She wants me to take her in every room every corner — kitchen courtyard terrace maa-papa’s room even the puja room where she does her daily worship. She wants me to fill her every time no condom no pulling out. She whispers jeth ji agar is mahine mein pet ho gaya toh chachi khush hogi aapka baccha paalne mein.
I know this is the ultimate sin. I know one day it will destroy everything — Neelam’s trust family honor my marriage her dignity. But when Kavya calls me when she looks at me with those dark hungry eyes when she spreads her legs whispers jeth ji ab chod apni chachi ko zor se chod I can’t stop. This sin this love this addiction has become my oxygen.
Tonight maa-papa are sleeping early after long day. Kavya is waiting in her room wearing her favorite red chiffon saree low-cut blouse no bra underneath hair open eyes full of promise. I will go to her. I will kiss her deeply suck her nipples until she begs eat her choot until she squirts fuck her in every position fill her with my cum while she moans jeth ji bhar de chachi ke andar poora bhar de.
Tomorrow morning she will serve breakfast call me jeth ji sweetly in front of everyone while my seed leaks out under her saree.
This is our life now — daylight respect midnight sin. Guilt is there sharp like knife but desire is bigger. Love is there twisted forbidden but real. And we can’t stop. We won’t stop.
The nights stretch on. The risks grow. The creampies continue. Every time I fill her I imagine the impossible — a child that is ours but never can be acknowledged. The thought terrifies me arouses me binds me tighter to her. Kavya has become my obsession my weakness my reason to breathe my secret sin.
In the old wadas of Juni Indore where life moves slowly and secrets hide behind thick stone walls we keep burning together — two souls trapped in a love that should never exist but feels more real than anything else in this world.
And so it continues — more afternoons more midnights more positions more whispered jeth ji more creampies more love wrapped in guilt wrapped in ecstasy wrapped in the unbreakable forbidden bond between a jeth and his devarani.
Neelam, my wife of fourteen years, is thirty-six now. She was diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis combined with slipped disc two years ago. Doctors said complete bed rest for minimum six months, strong medicines, physiotherapy, no household work at all. She is confined to our first-floor bedroom — the same room where we spent our suhaagraat — now turned into a semi-hospital with medicines on the side table, walker beside the bed, and a small bell she rings when she needs help. The pain is bad some days, bearable on others, but the medicines make her sleep most of the time. She is still beautiful — fair skin, long hair, gentle smile — but the illness has taken away her strength, her confidence, her ability to be the wife she once was. I love her deeply, I take care of her every need, I sit with her every evening holding her hand telling her she will get better soon, but the truth is the physical side of our marriage has been dead for almost two years. I never complained. I never looked outside. I told myself this is my duty, my karma, my patience will be rewarded.
Then came my younger brother Rohit’s wife — my devarani — Kavya.
Kavya is twenty-six, married to Rohit four years ago. She is from a small town near Ujjain — fair like fresh malai, medium height, very traditional looks — always in simple cotton sarees or salwar suits during the day, but at night she wears those thin pastel-coloured nighties that Neelam used to tease her about: “Arre Kavya, yeh toh bilkul heroine wali nighty hai!” Kavya always blushed and said “Bhabhi, aap hi toh dilwayi thi shopping mein.” Everyone in the family loved her — soft-spoken, excellent cook, takes care of maa like her own mother, never raised her voice. The perfect devarani.
When Neelam fell seriously ill the entire household load fell on Kavya. Cooking for eight to nine people twice a day, washing clothes, cleaning the house, taking care of the children’s studies (my two kids — daughter in class 10, son in class 7), maa’s diabetes medicines, and now also looking after her bedridden bhabhi — giving her medicines, helping her to the bathroom, massaging her legs when the pain became unbearable. Kavya never complained. Never. But I started noticing the changes.
She became thinner. Dark circles appeared under her eyes. But strangely… more beautiful. The exhaustion gave her face a delicate, almost fragile glow. And the nighties… because of the constant running up and down stairs she stopped caring about modesty after 10 p.m. The nighties became shorter — ending mid-thigh. Thin straps kept slipping. No bra underneath most nights because “garmi bohot hai jeth ji, bra se aur pasina aata hai.” I tried not to look. I told myself she is devarani, younger brother’s wife, respect her like your own sister. But every night when I went to Neelam’s room to give her medicines I had to pass Kavya’s room and the door was always slightly open, the night lamp casting soft golden light on her sleeping form — nighty ridden up, thighs exposed, one strap fallen, breast almost spilling out. I felt ashamed of the thoughts that came. I felt ashamed of the hardness in my pajamas. I told myself this is wrong, stop, you are the elder, the responsible one. But the thoughts came anyway, stronger every day.
The first real incident happened in October. It was a Sunday afternoon, power cut as usual, the house quiet except for the slow whirring of the inverter fan in Neelam’s room. Maa had gone to her sister’s place in Bittan Market for lunch and would return only in the evening. My kids were at tuition. Rohit was on a two-day tour to Indore for business. The house was suddenly empty except for me, Kavya, and Neelam sleeping heavily under the effect of painkillers. I was in the living room trying to read a ledger when Kavya came from the kitchen wearing a thin sky-blue satin nighty, straps slipped off both shoulders, the front so low that almost three-fourths of her breasts were visible — soft, milky white, nipples just barely hidden by the edge of fabric. Hair loose, messy from the day’s work. Sweat beads on her neck and upper chest. She carried a glass of buttermilk and said Jeth ji garmi se thak gaye ho na? Yeh pee lo. When she bent to place the glass on the table the nighty neckline fell completely exposing both breasts fully — full, round, dark areola, nipples hard from the cool air. She stayed bent for a few seconds longer than necessary letting me look then slowly straightened smiled softly and whispered sorry jeth ji… strap dhila ho gaya.
I felt my throat go dry, my lund harden instantly. I tried to look away stammered koi baat nahi Kavya… but she didn’t move away. Instead she stepped closer stood right in front of me between my legs so close I could smell her — fresh soap jasmine and something musky underneath. She placed her hand on my shoulder squeezed gently and whispered Jeth ji aap bhi thak gaye honge… Neelam bhabhi ki seva karte karte… aapka bhi koi khayal nahi rakhta. Her voice was soft almost broken. I managed to say Kavya tu bhi bohot mehnat karti hai rest kar le. She gave a small sad smile and then… she did the unthinkable. She took my hand placed it on her waist right above where the nighty ended. Bare skin. Warm. Soft. Slightly damp with sweat.
I should have pulled my hand away. I should have stood up. I should have reminded her she is my devarani my younger brother’s wife. Instead my fingers tightened slightly on her waist. She shivered. Closed her eyes for a second like she was savouring the touch. Then opened them looked straight at me and whispered Jeth ji… bas thodi der… mujhe yaad dilwa do ki main bhi koi aurat hoon… koi aurat jo chhuti jaati hai. That broke something inside me.
I pulled her into my arms. First hug — tight desperate. She buried her face in my chest. I could feel her heart hammering. Then I lifted her chin. Our lips met. First kiss — hesitant trembling. Then deeper. Hungry. Her tongue shy at first then bold. Taste of buttermilk and cardamom on her lips. We kissed for long minutes in that silent living room with Neelam sleeping upstairs. My hands roamed — down her back over her hips squeezing her soft gaand through satin. She moaned softly into my mouth uffff… jeth ji…
I lifted her onto the sofa. Nighty hiked up. No panty. Her choot was already wet — glistening in the dim light. I touched her there — first time. She gasped aaaahhhh… I fingered her slowly then faster feeling her tight walls clench around me while she moaned continuously ungli andar daal jeth ji chachi ki choot mein ungli kar zor se kar. She came hard shaking violently biting her own hand to muffle the scream aaaahhhhh jhad rahi hoon jeth ji. After that she pushed me back freed my lund stroked it slowly whispered kitna bada hai aapka lund jeth ji Neelam bhabhi kitni lucky thi. Then she took me in her mouth sucked slowly tongue swirling around the topi taking me deep until I came in her mouth hot thick spurts and she swallowed every drop licked her lips saying aapka maal kitna garam kitna tasty hai jeth ji mujhe roz chahiye ab.
We did not stop there. I pulled her nighty up ate her choot for the first time — tongue inside circling clit sucking hard fingers pumping deep. She came again shaking violently squirting on my face. Then she climbed on top guided my lund inside her slowly taking me inch by inch aaaahhhh kitna mota hai aapka lund jeth ji chachi ki choot phaad doge. She rode me hard bouncing her breasts in my face while I sucked them slapped her gaand lightly making her moan zor se maar jeth ji apni chachi ki gaand maar zor se. We changed positions missionary with her legs over my shoulders deep hard thrusts doggy where I held her hips pounded from behind watching her gaand jiggle reverse cowgirl so I could see her choot swallowing my lund completely. She came four times clenching around me milking me before I exploded inside her garam garam maal daal de jeth ji chachi ke andar bhar de poora bhar de.
We lay there panting sweating under the slow fan her head on my chest whispering Jeth ji yeh galat hai par chachi ko ab sirf aap chahiye roz dopahar roz raat ko. Guilt crashed over me like a wave — she is devarani my younger brother’s wife — but the addiction had already begun.
From that Sunday afternoon our secret life started. Maa and papa were home most days but we found ways — quick afternoon sessions when they went to market or temple long bathroom fucks when they napped early morning quickies before anyone woke. Nights when everyone slept she would come to my room or call me to hers. We explored everything — slow love-making with deep kisses rough fucking with hair pulling biting slapping. She taught me how to eat her choot properly tongue on her clit slow circles then fast flicks fingers in her g-spot until she squirted on my face zor se chaat jeth ji jeebh andar daal poori choot chaat le chachi ka pani pee le. I learned how to make her come multiple times how to bite her nipples just hard enough to make her scream softly how to finger her gaand lightly teasing the tight hole while I licked her choot. She sucked my lund every time sometimes slow worshipful sometimes fast sloppy until I came in her mouth on her breasts even once on her face which she licked clean saying jeth ji chachi ko aapka maal har jagah pasand hai.
When we finally did full intercourse it was on a Thursday afternoon when maa went to the doctor with papa for his routine check-up and the kids were at tuition. Kavya was wild that day she wore a red chiffon saree with matching low-cut blouse no bra underneath hair open sindoor bright in her maang like a married woman ready for her husband. She locked my room door pushed me on the bed lifted her saree no panty underneath guided my lund inside her slowly taking me inch by inch aaaahhhh kitna bada hai aapka lund jeth ji chachi ki choot phaad doge. She rode me hard bouncing her breasts in my face while I sucked them slapped her gaand lightly making her moan zor se maar jeth ji apni chachi ki gaand maar zor se. We changed positions missionary with her legs over my shoulders deep hard thrusts hitting her cervix doggy where I held her hips pounded from behind watching her gaand jiggle reverse cowgirl so I could see her choot swallowing my lund completely. She came four times clenching around me milking me before I exploded inside her garam garam maal daal de jeth ji chachi ke andar bhar de poora bhar de. We stayed connected long after panting sweating under the slow fan her head on my chest whispering jeth ji yeh galat hai par chachi ko ab sirf aap chahiye roz dopahar roz raat ko.
The guilt was constant sharp painful every morning when she served breakfast to Rohit when he was home she looked like the ideal wife touching his feet asking about his night shift while the same night she had begged me to chod zor se. But the guilt only made the desire stronger the forbidden thrill more addictive. We started taking bigger risks daytime quickies in the bathroom when maa and papa were out her bent over the sink saree hiked up me pounding from behind hand over her mouth to keep quiet. Once even in the kitchen while maa was upstairs resting she pulled me behind the door lifted her saree let me take her standing against the wall fast hard desperate while maa called her name from above. Every time I came inside her no pulling out just filling my own devarani with my seed the thought of what could happen only making it hotter more dangerous.
When Rohit is home on weekends the tension becomes unbearable. Kavya becomes more daring — during family dinner she sits beside me under the table her foot rubs my lund slowly while Rohit talks about business completely unaware. Once when Rohit was taking bath she slipped into my room for three minutes sucked me off swallowed my cum then went back to serve him tea with the taste of her jeth’s seed on her lips smiling innocently at everyone.
Months passed the affair deepened emotionally too. She told me how Rohit had become distant after marriage how his job consumed him how he barely touched her anymore how she felt like a widow in her own house how she suppressed her desires for years until I awakened them with one look one touch. I told her how I had always admired her beauty how seeing her in nighties made me hard how the guilt kills me every day but I can’t live without her touch her moans her choot clenching around me. We cried together sometimes made love slowly tenderly with deep eye contact and whispered I love yous other times fucked like animals raw desperate animalistic. She started saying dangerous things jeth ji agar chachi pregnant ho gayi toh sabko lagega Rohit ka hai par chachi jaanti hai yeh aapka hai aapka aur chachi ka. The thought terrified me excited me beyond words made me fill her even more.
Now January 13 2026 Rohit is on a month-long training in Indore. The kids are at school all day. Maa-papa are planning their Ujjain trip next month. Kavya has already told maa she will stay back because of her “back pain”. Those thirty days will be ours — full days full nights no hiding no hurry complete surrender. No shop for me some days no office for anyone. The house will be empty except for us. She wants me to take her in every room every corner — kitchen courtyard terrace maa-papa’s room even the puja room where she does her daily worship. She wants me to fill her every time no condom no pulling out. She whispers jeth ji agar is mahine mein pet ho gaya toh chachi khush hogi aapka baccha paalne mein.
I know this is the ultimate sin. I know one day it will destroy everything — Neelam’s trust family honor my marriage her dignity. But when Kavya calls me when she looks at me with those dark hungry eyes when she spreads her legs whispers jeth ji ab chod apni chachi ko zor se chod I can’t stop. This sin this love this addiction has become my oxygen.
Tonight maa-papa are sleeping early after long day. Kavya is waiting in her room wearing her favorite red chiffon saree low-cut blouse no bra underneath hair open eyes full of promise. I will go to her. I will kiss her deeply suck her nipples until she begs eat her choot until she squirts fuck her in every position fill her with my cum while she moans jeth ji bhar de chachi ke andar poora bhar de.
Tomorrow morning she will serve breakfast call me jeth ji sweetly in front of everyone while my seed leaks out under her saree.
This is our life now — daylight respect midnight sin. Guilt is there sharp like knife but desire is bigger. Love is there twisted forbidden but real. And we can’t stop. We won’t stop.
The nights stretch on. The risks grow. The creampies continue. Every time I fill her I imagine the impossible — a child that is ours but never can be acknowledged. The thought terrifies me arouses me binds me tighter to her. Kavya has become my obsession my weakness my reason to breathe my secret sin.
In the old wadas of Juni Indore where life moves slowly and secrets hide behind thick stone walls we keep burning together — two souls trapped in a love that should never exist but feels more real than anything else in this world.
And so it continues — more afternoons more midnights more positions more whispered jeth ji more creampies more love wrapped in guilt wrapped in ecstasy wrapped in the unbreakable forbidden bond between a jeth and his devarani.
The small everyday moments are what make this addiction so impossible to break. Every morning Kavya wakes up early does her puja lights the diya in the small mandir offers flowers to Devi Maa with the same hands that stroked me to hardness only hours ago that guided me inside her that milked my cum deep in her womb. She applies fresh sindoor in her maang wears her simple cotton saree then comes to wake me with a soft kiss on my forehead jeth ji uthiye chai bana di hai. The contrast is maddening — the same woman who begged me to chod zor se the night before now looks like the perfect devoted devarani. The guilt hits hardest in those moments I feel like vomiting sometimes but then she brushes her breast against my arm while serving breakfast or whispers dopahar ko sab so jayenge tab wait karna and the guilt melts into anticipation again.
We developed secret codes. When she wears her red chiffon saree with deep neck blouse it means she wants slow love-making gentle kisses long foreplay. When she wears black satin nighty it means she wants rough hard pounding slapping biting marking. When she leaves her bedroom door slightly open after maa-papa sleep it means come now quick silent fuck while they snore next door. The risk is insane — once maa almost woke up when Kavya moaned a little too loud during a quick doggy in her own bedroom I had to cover her mouth with my hand thrust deep to shut her up while maa turned over and went back to sleep. The fear the adrenaline the way her choot clenched harder in that moment made us both come instantly.
During day time when maa goes to market or temple we take bigger risks. Once maa went to buy vegetables for three hours Kavya pulled me to the terrace locked the door lifted her saree no panty underneath bent over the parapet guided me inside her from behind. I fucked her hard fast the city noise below covering our moans while she bit her pallu to stay quiet. I came inside her in under four minutes cum dripping down her thighs while she fixed her saree and went back downstairs smiling normally when maa returned. Another time when papa was at doctor’s check-up Kavya came to my room at noon wore nothing but her sindoor and mangalsutra lay naked on my bed spread her legs said jeth ji abhi chod chachi ko din mein din mein chod. I ate her choot for twenty minutes made her come twice then fucked her missionary slow deep while sunlight streamed through the window making her skin glow. She came again clenching milking me before I filled her whispering jeth ji chachi ke pet mein aapka maal daal de.
The emotional layers are just as intense. Some nights after sex she cries softly in my arms saying jeth ji mujhe bohot guilty feel hota hai Neelam bhabhi ke saath yeh kar rahi hoon par ruk nahi paati… aapse pyar ho gaya hai real wala pyar. I hold her tight kiss her tears tell her I feel the same guilt every day but the love is stronger that I can’t live without her touch her moans her choot clenching around me. We talk about impossible future — running away to some small town living as husband-wife under new names or careful plans to continue this forever without anyone knowing. She has started taking contraceptive pills secretly because pregnancy risk is too high but sometimes she forgets on purpose whispers agar ho gaya toh chachi khush hogi aapka baccha paalne mein. The thought scares me but also arouses me like nothing else making me take her harder deeper filling her with even more cum.
As January 13 2026 continues Rohit is still on training. The kids are at school all day. Maa-papa are planning their Ujjain trip next month. Kavya has already told maa she will stay back because of her “back pain”. Those thirty days will be ours — full days full nights no hiding no hurry complete surrender. No shop some days no office for anyone. The house will be empty except for us. She wants me to take her in every room every corner — kitchen courtyard terrace maa-papa’s room even the puja room where she does her daily worship. She wants me to fill her every time no condom no pulling out. She whispers jeth ji agar is mahine mein pet ho gaya toh chachi khush hogi aapka baccha paalne mein.
I know this is the ultimate sin. I know one day it will destroy everything — Neelam’s trust family honor my marriage her dignity. But when Kavya calls me when she looks at me with those dark hungry eyes when she spreads her legs whispers jeth ji ab chod apni chachi ko zor se chod I can’t stop. This sin this love this addiction has become my oxygen.
Tonight maa-papa are sleeping early after long day. Kavya is waiting in her room wearing her favorite red chiffon saree low-cut blouse no bra underneath hair open eyes full of promise. I will go to her. I will kiss her deeply suck her nipples until she begs eat her choot until she squirts fuck her in every position fill her with my cum while she moans jeth ji bhar de chachi ke andar poora bhar de.
Tomorrow morning she will serve breakfast call me jeth ji sweetly in front of everyone while my seed leaks out under her saree.
This is our life now — daylight respect midnight sin. Guilt is there sharp like knife but desire is bigger. Love is there twisted forbidden but real. And we can’t stop. We won’t stop.
The nights stretch on. The risks grow. The creampies continue. Every time I fill her I imagine the impossible — a child that is ours but never can be acknowledged. The thought terrifies me arouses me binds me tighter to her. Kavya has become my obsession my weakness my reason to breathe my secret sin.
In the old wadas of Juni Indore where life moves slowly and secrets hide behind thick stone walls we keep burning together — two souls trapped in a love that should never exist but feels more real than anything else in this world.
And so it continues — more afternoons more midnights more positions more whispered jeth ji more creampies more love wrapped in guilt wrapped in ecstasy wrapped in the unbreakable forbidden bond between a jeth and his devarani.