Hi everyone, my name is Amit Verma. I am 26 now, but this happened back in 2020 when I was 22, doing my final year engineering from home because of the pandemic. We are a typical middle-class family from Mumbai – dad works in a bank, mom is a school teacher. My elder sister Neha is two years older than me, 24 at the time, working from home for an IT company. Neha didi has always been the beautiful one in the family – fair skin, long silky black hair till her waist, big expressive eyes, and a figure that could make any guy lose his mind: 36D-28-38. Her boobs are full, heavy, perfectly round, and her ass is so curvy it sways naturally when she walks. I had never thought of her that way growing up, but everything changed during that lockdown.
Just a week before the nationwide lockdown was announced, our parents had gone to our native village in Maharashtra for a family function. When Modi ji announced the complete lockdown, all trains and buses stopped. Our parents were stuck there for months. That left just me and Neha didi alone in our 2BHK flat in Andheri. At first it felt normal – we cooked together, did chores, watched Netflix, attended online classes. But as the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere in the flat started changing.
Mumbai summers are brutal, and with AC running all day, Neha didi started wearing thinner and shorter clothes at home. Loose tank tops without bra, short shorts that barely covered her thick thighs, or thin cotton nighties that clung to her sweaty body. I would catch glimpses of her hard nipples poking through the fabric when she bent down to pick something up, or the deep cleavage when her loose neckline fell forward. Her pallu would slip when she wore saree for video calls, revealing the outline of her lacy bra. I started getting random erections just looking at her. At night I would masturbate thinking about her boobs, her ass, imagining things I knew were completely wrong. “She’s your didi, Amit, yeh paap hai,” I would tell myself, but the more I tried to control, the stronger the thoughts became.
Neha didi also started behaving differently. She would sit closer to me on the sofa while watching movies, her soft thigh pressing against mine. Sometimes she would rest her head on my shoulder, her hair smelling of jasmine shampoo, her warm breath on my neck. When we cooked together in the small kitchen, there was no space to move without touching. I would stand behind her to reach something from the upper shelf, my chest brushing against her back, my crotch accidentally pressing against her soft ass. She never moved away immediately. Instead, she would stay there a second longer, pushing back slightly so I could feel the heat of her body. My cock would harden instantly, throbbing against my shorts. I wondered if she felt it.
One afternoon, I accidentally walked into the bathroom while she was taking a bath – the latch was broken and neither of us remembered to knock during lockdown laziness. The frosted glass door was slightly open. I saw her silhouette – water running down her naked body, her hands soaping her big breasts, lifting them, circling her nipples. She turned and I saw the curve of her waist, the roundness of her ass. My heart pounded. I quickly backed out, but that image stayed burned in my mind. That night I jerked off twice thinking about it.
The tension kept building. We started talking more openly. Late at night, we would sit on the balcony drinking chai, talking about life, relationships. She told me she broke up with her boyfriend six months ago and was feeling lonely. I admitted I had never had a serious girlfriend. One night she said, “Amit, tu bada handsome ho gaya hai. Koi ladki hoti toh tujhe dekh kar paagal ho jati.” I laughed it off but my cock twitched in my pants.
The breaking point came about three weeks into lockdown. It was a Friday night, heavy rain pounding Mumbai, thunder and lightning, power cut at around 10 PM. The whole building went dark. We lit candles in the living room and sat on the sofa. Neha didi was wearing a thin white nighty, almost see-through in the candlelight. No bra – her big boobs swayed freely, dark nipples clearly visible through the wet fabric (she had spilled some water earlier). The rain made everything humid, her skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
We talked for hours. She opened up about feeling lonely, missing physical touch. I admitted the same. The conversation turned intimate. She said, “Kabhi kabhi body ki needs control nahi hoti, right?” I nodded. Silence fell. Then she leaned over and hugged me for comfort. Her soft heavy breasts pressed firmly against my chest. I could feel her hard nipples through the thin cloth. My arms went around her waist, pulling her closer. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked up at me, eyes filled with something I had never seen before – desire.
I don’t know who moved first, but our lips met. Soft at first, hesitant, then hungry. Her mouth tasted sweet, her tongue dancing with mine. She moaned softly into the kiss, “Mmm... Amit...” My hands roamed over her back, sliding down to cup her ass. It was so soft and full in my palms. She pressed her body harder against me, feeling my rock-hard cock against her stomach.
We broke the kiss, both breathing heavily. “Yeh galat hai, Amit... hum bhai-behen hain,” she whispered, but her eyes were glazed with lust. “I know didi, but I can’t stop wanting you,” I replied. She bit her lip, then kissed me again, harder this time. That was it – the dam broke.
I picked her up – she was surprisingly light – and carried her to my bedroom, candles flickering. I laid her on the bed and climbed over her, kissing her neck, her collarbone. She arched her back, moaning “Ahhh... Amit... haan...” I pulled down the straps of her nighty, exposing her magnificent breasts. They were even more beautiful up close – large, firm, perfectly round with light brown areolas and erect nipples begging to be sucked. I took one nipple in my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, flicking my tongue over it. She gasped, “Haan bhaiya... chus mere boobs ko... zor se...” I switched to the other breast, kneading the first with my hand, feeling its weight, the soft silky skin. Her nipples were rock hard, tasting slightly salty from sweat.
My hand slid down her body, lifting the nighty. She wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy was neatly trimmed, lips swollen and glistening with wetness. The musky scent of her arousal filled the air – intoxicating. I ran my finger along her slit, feeling how soaked she was. She shuddered, “Amit... please...” I slipped one finger inside her tight warmth, then two, slowly pumping while sucking her breasts. She was dripping, coating my fingers. Her hips bucked, “Ahhh... haan... finger kar mujhe...”
I moved down, spreading her legs. Her pussy was pink, beautiful, juices flowing. I inhaled her scent deeply, then licked from bottom to top, tasting her sweet-salty nectar. She cried out, hands gripping my hair, “Oh god... Amit... teri zubaan... ahhh kitna acha lag raha hai...” I lapped at her clit, circling, sucking, sliding fingers in and out. Her thighs trembled around my head. She came hard within minutes, body shaking, juices flooding my mouth, screaming “Aaaahhh... I’m cumming bhaiya... haaan!”
She pulled me up, kissing me tasting herself on my lips. Then she pushed me onto my back and tugged off my shorts. My cock sprang free – 7 inches, thick, throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the tip. Her eyes widened, “Itna bada... bhaiya ka lund...” She wrapped her soft hand around it, stroking slowly, then leaned down and licked the pre-cum, swirling her tongue around the head. The sensation was electric. She took me into her warm wet mouth, sucking, bobbing her head, taking me deeper each time. I groaned, “Didi... ahhh teri muh... kitni garam hai...” She sucked eagerly, saliva dripping, looking up at me with those innocent-yet-slutty eyes.
I couldn’t wait anymore. I pulled her up, positioned her beneath me. She spread her legs wide, guiding my cock to her entrance. “Dheere daal Amit... pehli baar itna bada...” she whispered. I pushed in slowly – she was incredibly tight, hot, wet walls gripping me like velvet. Inch by inch I entered until I was fully inside. We both moaned loudly. The taboo of it – my own sister’s pussy wrapped around my cock – made it ten times more intense.
I started moving slowly, long deep strokes. Her big boobs bounced with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around my waist, “Ahhh... Amit... chod mujhe... haan bhaiya zor se...” I increased the pace, pounding harder. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, her wet pussy squelching, our moans. Sweat covered our bodies in the humid night. I kissed her deeply while fucking her, feeling her nails dig into my back.
She came first again, her pussy clenching rhythmically around my cock, body shaking, screaming “Haan... I’m cumming again... bhaiya ka lund se... ahhhh!” That pushed me over. I thrust deep and exploded inside her, rope after rope of hot cum filling her womb. The feeling of creampie-ing my own sister was indescribable. We stayed locked together, breathing heavily, my cock still twitching inside her.
But we weren’t done. After a few minutes, she rolled me over and climbed on top. Her pussy was overflowing with our mixed juices, dripping down my cock as she sank onto me again. She rode me like a goddess – big boobs bouncing hypnotically, hands on my chest, grinding her clit against me. “Ahhh... Amit... tera lund meri chut mein kitna perfect lagta hai...” I grabbed her ass, helping her bounce harder. She came twice more in this position, each orgasm more intense.
Then I flipped her onto all fours. Her round ass up in the air was a sight to behold. I slapped it lightly, watching it jiggle, then slammed back inside doggy style. The view of my cock disappearing into her pussy, her hanging boobs swinging, was pure heaven. I pounded her hard, pulling her hair gently, “Le didi... bhaiya tujhe chod raha hai...” She pushed back, “Haan zor se... chod apni behen ko... bana de mujhe apni randi...” We both lost count of orgasms. I came inside her again, filling her even more.
We collapsed, exhausted, bodies sticky with sweat and cum. She lay on my chest, my softening cock still inside her. We kissed softly now, the frantic passion giving way to tenderness. “I love you Amit... yeh galat hai but it feels so right,” she whispered. I held her tight, knowing we had crossed a line we could never uncross.
That night was just the beginning. For the rest of the lockdown – almost two more months – we fucked every day, multiple times, exploring every position, every corner of the flat. The taboo thrill never faded; if anything, it made every session more intense. Even after parents returned, we found ways to sneak moments. It’s our secret, and sometimes when I look at Neha didi now, I still feel that same uncontrollable desire.
This is my true confession. Thanks for reading.
Just a week before the nationwide lockdown was announced, our parents had gone to our native village in Maharashtra for a family function. When Modi ji announced the complete lockdown, all trains and buses stopped. Our parents were stuck there for months. That left just me and Neha didi alone in our 2BHK flat in Andheri. At first it felt normal – we cooked together, did chores, watched Netflix, attended online classes. But as the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere in the flat started changing.
Mumbai summers are brutal, and with AC running all day, Neha didi started wearing thinner and shorter clothes at home. Loose tank tops without bra, short shorts that barely covered her thick thighs, or thin cotton nighties that clung to her sweaty body. I would catch glimpses of her hard nipples poking through the fabric when she bent down to pick something up, or the deep cleavage when her loose neckline fell forward. Her pallu would slip when she wore saree for video calls, revealing the outline of her lacy bra. I started getting random erections just looking at her. At night I would masturbate thinking about her boobs, her ass, imagining things I knew were completely wrong. “She’s your didi, Amit, yeh paap hai,” I would tell myself, but the more I tried to control, the stronger the thoughts became.
Neha didi also started behaving differently. She would sit closer to me on the sofa while watching movies, her soft thigh pressing against mine. Sometimes she would rest her head on my shoulder, her hair smelling of jasmine shampoo, her warm breath on my neck. When we cooked together in the small kitchen, there was no space to move without touching. I would stand behind her to reach something from the upper shelf, my chest brushing against her back, my crotch accidentally pressing against her soft ass. She never moved away immediately. Instead, she would stay there a second longer, pushing back slightly so I could feel the heat of her body. My cock would harden instantly, throbbing against my shorts. I wondered if she felt it.
One afternoon, I accidentally walked into the bathroom while she was taking a bath – the latch was broken and neither of us remembered to knock during lockdown laziness. The frosted glass door was slightly open. I saw her silhouette – water running down her naked body, her hands soaping her big breasts, lifting them, circling her nipples. She turned and I saw the curve of her waist, the roundness of her ass. My heart pounded. I quickly backed out, but that image stayed burned in my mind. That night I jerked off twice thinking about it.
The tension kept building. We started talking more openly. Late at night, we would sit on the balcony drinking chai, talking about life, relationships. She told me she broke up with her boyfriend six months ago and was feeling lonely. I admitted I had never had a serious girlfriend. One night she said, “Amit, tu bada handsome ho gaya hai. Koi ladki hoti toh tujhe dekh kar paagal ho jati.” I laughed it off but my cock twitched in my pants.
The breaking point came about three weeks into lockdown. It was a Friday night, heavy rain pounding Mumbai, thunder and lightning, power cut at around 10 PM. The whole building went dark. We lit candles in the living room and sat on the sofa. Neha didi was wearing a thin white nighty, almost see-through in the candlelight. No bra – her big boobs swayed freely, dark nipples clearly visible through the wet fabric (she had spilled some water earlier). The rain made everything humid, her skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
We talked for hours. She opened up about feeling lonely, missing physical touch. I admitted the same. The conversation turned intimate. She said, “Kabhi kabhi body ki needs control nahi hoti, right?” I nodded. Silence fell. Then she leaned over and hugged me for comfort. Her soft heavy breasts pressed firmly against my chest. I could feel her hard nipples through the thin cloth. My arms went around her waist, pulling her closer. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked up at me, eyes filled with something I had never seen before – desire.
I don’t know who moved first, but our lips met. Soft at first, hesitant, then hungry. Her mouth tasted sweet, her tongue dancing with mine. She moaned softly into the kiss, “Mmm... Amit...” My hands roamed over her back, sliding down to cup her ass. It was so soft and full in my palms. She pressed her body harder against me, feeling my rock-hard cock against her stomach.
We broke the kiss, both breathing heavily. “Yeh galat hai, Amit... hum bhai-behen hain,” she whispered, but her eyes were glazed with lust. “I know didi, but I can’t stop wanting you,” I replied. She bit her lip, then kissed me again, harder this time. That was it – the dam broke.
I picked her up – she was surprisingly light – and carried her to my bedroom, candles flickering. I laid her on the bed and climbed over her, kissing her neck, her collarbone. She arched her back, moaning “Ahhh... Amit... haan...” I pulled down the straps of her nighty, exposing her magnificent breasts. They were even more beautiful up close – large, firm, perfectly round with light brown areolas and erect nipples begging to be sucked. I took one nipple in my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, flicking my tongue over it. She gasped, “Haan bhaiya... chus mere boobs ko... zor se...” I switched to the other breast, kneading the first with my hand, feeling its weight, the soft silky skin. Her nipples were rock hard, tasting slightly salty from sweat.
My hand slid down her body, lifting the nighty. She wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy was neatly trimmed, lips swollen and glistening with wetness. The musky scent of her arousal filled the air – intoxicating. I ran my finger along her slit, feeling how soaked she was. She shuddered, “Amit... please...” I slipped one finger inside her tight warmth, then two, slowly pumping while sucking her breasts. She was dripping, coating my fingers. Her hips bucked, “Ahhh... haan... finger kar mujhe...”
I moved down, spreading her legs. Her pussy was pink, beautiful, juices flowing. I inhaled her scent deeply, then licked from bottom to top, tasting her sweet-salty nectar. She cried out, hands gripping my hair, “Oh god... Amit... teri zubaan... ahhh kitna acha lag raha hai...” I lapped at her clit, circling, sucking, sliding fingers in and out. Her thighs trembled around my head. She came hard within minutes, body shaking, juices flooding my mouth, screaming “Aaaahhh... I’m cumming bhaiya... haaan!”
She pulled me up, kissing me tasting herself on my lips. Then she pushed me onto my back and tugged off my shorts. My cock sprang free – 7 inches, thick, throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the tip. Her eyes widened, “Itna bada... bhaiya ka lund...” She wrapped her soft hand around it, stroking slowly, then leaned down and licked the pre-cum, swirling her tongue around the head. The sensation was electric. She took me into her warm wet mouth, sucking, bobbing her head, taking me deeper each time. I groaned, “Didi... ahhh teri muh... kitni garam hai...” She sucked eagerly, saliva dripping, looking up at me with those innocent-yet-slutty eyes.
I couldn’t wait anymore. I pulled her up, positioned her beneath me. She spread her legs wide, guiding my cock to her entrance. “Dheere daal Amit... pehli baar itna bada...” she whispered. I pushed in slowly – she was incredibly tight, hot, wet walls gripping me like velvet. Inch by inch I entered until I was fully inside. We both moaned loudly. The taboo of it – my own sister’s pussy wrapped around my cock – made it ten times more intense.
I started moving slowly, long deep strokes. Her big boobs bounced with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around my waist, “Ahhh... Amit... chod mujhe... haan bhaiya zor se...” I increased the pace, pounding harder. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, her wet pussy squelching, our moans. Sweat covered our bodies in the humid night. I kissed her deeply while fucking her, feeling her nails dig into my back.
She came first again, her pussy clenching rhythmically around my cock, body shaking, screaming “Haan... I’m cumming again... bhaiya ka lund se... ahhhh!” That pushed me over. I thrust deep and exploded inside her, rope after rope of hot cum filling her womb. The feeling of creampie-ing my own sister was indescribable. We stayed locked together, breathing heavily, my cock still twitching inside her.
But we weren’t done. After a few minutes, she rolled me over and climbed on top. Her pussy was overflowing with our mixed juices, dripping down my cock as she sank onto me again. She rode me like a goddess – big boobs bouncing hypnotically, hands on my chest, grinding her clit against me. “Ahhh... Amit... tera lund meri chut mein kitna perfect lagta hai...” I grabbed her ass, helping her bounce harder. She came twice more in this position, each orgasm more intense.
Then I flipped her onto all fours. Her round ass up in the air was a sight to behold. I slapped it lightly, watching it jiggle, then slammed back inside doggy style. The view of my cock disappearing into her pussy, her hanging boobs swinging, was pure heaven. I pounded her hard, pulling her hair gently, “Le didi... bhaiya tujhe chod raha hai...” She pushed back, “Haan zor se... chod apni behen ko... bana de mujhe apni randi...” We both lost count of orgasms. I came inside her again, filling her even more.
We collapsed, exhausted, bodies sticky with sweat and cum. She lay on my chest, my softening cock still inside her. We kissed softly now, the frantic passion giving way to tenderness. “I love you Amit... yeh galat hai but it feels so right,” she whispered. I held her tight, knowing we had crossed a line we could never uncross.
That night was just the beginning. For the rest of the lockdown – almost two more months – we fucked every day, multiple times, exploring every position, every corner of the flat. The taboo thrill never faded; if anything, it made every session more intense. Even after parents returned, we found ways to sneak moments. It’s our secret, and sometimes when I look at Neha didi now, I still feel that same uncontrollable desire.
This is my true confession. Thanks for reading.