Hi everyone, my name is Rohan Sharma. I am 25 now, working as a software engineer in Bangalore, but this real experience happened two years ago when I was 23. We are a typical middle-class Rajasthani family settled in Mumbai. My mama (mother’s brother) lives in Jaipur with his family. His daughter Priya – my mama ki beti – is one year younger than me, so 22 at the time. Growing up, we were close during summer vacations at nani’s house, playing together as kids, but after teens we drifted apart because of studies and distance. I hadn’t seen her in almost five years.
The occasion was my elder cousin’s wedding – a big fat Rajasthani affair in a heritage resort near Jaipur. The whole extended family gathered: mehendi, sangeet, haldi, baraat – everything over four days. I reached two days early to help with arrangements. The moment I saw Priya at the airport pickup, my jaw almost dropped. She had transformed from the skinny girl I remembered into a complete bombshell. Fair glowing skin, long wavy black hair, killer smile with dimples, and a figure that screamed sex appeal: 35-27-37. Her boobs were full and perky, straining against her kurtis, and her ass was round, firm, swaying hypnotically when she walked. She wore modern yet traditional clothes – tight churidars, low-neck blouses – that showed off her curves perfectly.
She ran to me with a big hug at the resort gate. “Rohan bhaiya! Kitne bade ho gaye ho!” she exclaimed, pressing her soft heavy breasts firmly against my chest for a few extra seconds. I felt my cock twitch instantly. Her perfume – sweet and musky – filled my nose. I hugged back, hands on her slim waist, feeling the heat of her body. “Priya, tu toh bilkul heroine lag rahi hai,” I said, trying to play it cool. She blushed, biting her lip, eyes sparkling with mischief.
From that moment, the teasing started. During mehendi, she sat next to me, her bare midriff exposed in her short blouse, navel piercing glinting. She kept leaning over to show me designs, her pallu slipping, giving me clear views down her deep cleavage. Her boobs were even bigger up close – creamy, perfectly round, with a hint of lacy black bra. I could see her nipples hardening slightly in the AC. My eyes kept drifting there; she noticed and smiled naughtily instead of covering up.
At sangeet night, there was dancing and drinks. Priya wore a shimmering red lehenga choli – backless blouse tied with thin strings, low waist lehenga showing her toned flat stomach and curvy hips. When we danced together in the family group, she pressed close during turns, her ass brushing my crotch repeatedly. Alcohol loosened everyone. She whispered in my ear, “Bhaiya, aap toh ab bilkul hero lag rahe ho. Gym karte ho na?” Her hot breath on my neck, her hand lingering on my arm, squeezing my bicep. My cock was semi-hard the whole time, and I swear she felt it once when she grinded back during a fast beat.
That night, after the function, the resort rooms were packed because of the big family. Somehow, due to booking mix-up, Priya and I ended up sharing a deluxe room with two single beds (parents thought it was fine since we’re cousins). The room was luxurious – big bed actually pushed together, AC cool, balcony overlooking the pool. We changed into night clothes: I in shorts and t-shirt, she in a thin satin nighty that ended mid-thigh, no bra, her big boobs bouncing freely, nipples poking clearly.
We sat on the bed talking till late, reminiscing childhood, laughing about old pranks. She lay on her side facing me, nighty riding up, showing smooth creamy thighs. The conversation turned personal. She admitted she had a breakup recently, felt lonely. I said the same about my single status. “Bhaiya, kabhi kisi ladki ke saath... you know?” she asked shyly. I confessed limited experience. She giggled, “Mujhe bhi proper nahi hua ab tak. Bas thoda thoda.” The air thickened with tension.
She scooted closer, her leg touching mine. “Thand lag rahi hai AC se,” she said, pulling my arm around her. I spooned her naturally, my chest against her back, hand resting on her stomach. Her ass pressed right against my crotch. My cock hardened instantly, nestling between her soft ass cheeks through thin fabric. She didn’t move away – instead, she wiggled slightly, making it worse. “Priya... yeh theek nahi,” I whispered, but my hand slid up involuntarily, brushing the underside of her breast. She moaned softly, “Bhaiya... please... mujhe bhi garam kar do.”
That was the spark. I turned her towards me, our faces inches apart. Her eyes were filled with raw desire. We kissed – tentative at first, lips brushing, then deep, tongues exploring hungrily. She tasted like sweet wine from the sangeet. Her hands roamed my back, pulling me closer. I cupped her breast over the nighty – so full, heavy, soft yet firm. Her nipple was rock hard under my palm. She gasped into the kiss, “Ahhh... Rohan bhaiya... haan...”
I pulled up her nighty slowly, exposing her naked body underneath – no panties either. Her pussy was shaved smooth, lips puffy and already glistening. The scent of her arousal – musky, feminine – drove me crazy. I kissed down her neck, to her breasts. They were magnificent: large, perfectly shaped, light pink areolas, erect nipples begging for attention. I sucked one greedily, swirling my tongue, biting gently. She arched her back, moaning louder, “Haan bhaiya... chuso mere boobs ko... kitne din se socha tha iske baare mein...” My other hand kneaded the second breast, feeling its weight, the silky skin.
My fingers trailed down to her pussy. She was soaking wet, juices coating my fingers as I rubbed her clit in circles. She bucked her hips, “Ahhh... Rohan... finger daalo... please...” I slipped two fingers inside her tight hot cunt, pumping slowly while sucking her nipples alternately. Her walls clenched around me, so velvety and warm. She came quickly, body trembling, juices flowing over my hand, whispering “Mama ki beti ko finger kar rahe ho... ahhh cumming!”
She pushed me back, eyes wild with lust. “Ab mera turn,” she said, tugging off my shorts. My cock sprang out – 7.5 inches, thick, veiny, pre-cum dripping. She licked her lips, “Bhaiya ka lund... itna mota aur lamba...” She stroked it slowly, then leaned down, licking the pre-cum off the tip. The warm wet tongue sent shocks through me. She took me in her mouth, sucking eagerly, bobbing her head, saliva dripping down the shaft. Her big boobs hung and swayed as she blew me. I groaned, “Priya... teri muh... kitni garam aur tight hai...”
I couldn’t hold back. I pulled her up, positioned her on her back, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy was pink, swollen, inviting. “Daal do bhaiya... apni mama ki beti ki chut mein apna lund...” she begged. I rubbed the head along her slit, coating it in her juices, then pushed in slowly. She was incredibly tight – virgin-like grip – hot walls stretching around me. Inch by inch I buried myself fully. We both moaned loudly at the forbidden union. “Ahhh... poora andar... mama ki beti ko chod rahe ho aap...”
I started thrusting – slow deep strokes at first, savoring every sensation: her pussy squeezing me, her boobs bouncing hypnotically, her nails digging into my shoulders. The room filled with wet squelching sounds, skin slapping, her moans “Haan Rohan bhaiya... zor se... chod mujhe...” I kissed her deeply while pounding harder, sweat mixing in the humid night. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper.
She came first – pussy clenching rhythmically, body shaking violently, screaming “Aaaahhh... cumming bhaiya ke lund se... haaan!” That triggered me. I thrust deep and exploded, pumping thick ropes of cum inside her, filling her womb with cousin seed. The taboo creampie felt insanely erotic.
We didn’t stop. After catching breath, she climbed on top, sinking onto my still-hard cock. Her pussy was sloppy with our mixed juices, dripping down my balls. She rode me wildly – grinding, bouncing, big boobs jiggling in my face. I sucked them while she rode, hands gripping her round ass, spanking lightly. “Ahhh... bhaiya... tera lund meri chut ko barbaad kar raha hai...” She came twice more, each orgasm soaking us further.
Then doggy style – her favorite. On all fours, ass up, lehenga memories flashing as I admired the view. I slammed in from behind, watching my cock disappear into her pink pussy, her ass cheeks rippling with each thrust. I pulled her hair gently, “Le Priya... mama ki beti ki gaand maar raha hoon...” She pushed back hard, “Haan zor se... bana do mujhe apni...” I reached around to rub her clit, making her cum again, squirting slightly.
Final round missionary again, slow and intimate. We kissed passionately as I thrust deep, cumming together – me filling her once more, her walls milking every drop.
We collapsed, bodies entwined, sticky with sweat and cum. She lay on my chest, my cock softening inside her. “I love you Rohan bhaiya... yeh galat hai but itna sahi kabhi nahi laga,” she whispered. I held her tight, knowing this forbidden cousin bond was sealed forever.
The wedding continued, but every function had secret touches, stolen kisses in corridors. Late nights we fucked again and again, exploring oral 69, anal teasing (but saved for later). Even after returning to cities, we meet secretly whenever possible. Priya is my secret lover now – the thrill of mama ki beti never fades.
This is my true confession. Thanks for reading.
The occasion was my elder cousin’s wedding – a big fat Rajasthani affair in a heritage resort near Jaipur. The whole extended family gathered: mehendi, sangeet, haldi, baraat – everything over four days. I reached two days early to help with arrangements. The moment I saw Priya at the airport pickup, my jaw almost dropped. She had transformed from the skinny girl I remembered into a complete bombshell. Fair glowing skin, long wavy black hair, killer smile with dimples, and a figure that screamed sex appeal: 35-27-37. Her boobs were full and perky, straining against her kurtis, and her ass was round, firm, swaying hypnotically when she walked. She wore modern yet traditional clothes – tight churidars, low-neck blouses – that showed off her curves perfectly.
She ran to me with a big hug at the resort gate. “Rohan bhaiya! Kitne bade ho gaye ho!” she exclaimed, pressing her soft heavy breasts firmly against my chest for a few extra seconds. I felt my cock twitch instantly. Her perfume – sweet and musky – filled my nose. I hugged back, hands on her slim waist, feeling the heat of her body. “Priya, tu toh bilkul heroine lag rahi hai,” I said, trying to play it cool. She blushed, biting her lip, eyes sparkling with mischief.
From that moment, the teasing started. During mehendi, she sat next to me, her bare midriff exposed in her short blouse, navel piercing glinting. She kept leaning over to show me designs, her pallu slipping, giving me clear views down her deep cleavage. Her boobs were even bigger up close – creamy, perfectly round, with a hint of lacy black bra. I could see her nipples hardening slightly in the AC. My eyes kept drifting there; she noticed and smiled naughtily instead of covering up.
At sangeet night, there was dancing and drinks. Priya wore a shimmering red lehenga choli – backless blouse tied with thin strings, low waist lehenga showing her toned flat stomach and curvy hips. When we danced together in the family group, she pressed close during turns, her ass brushing my crotch repeatedly. Alcohol loosened everyone. She whispered in my ear, “Bhaiya, aap toh ab bilkul hero lag rahe ho. Gym karte ho na?” Her hot breath on my neck, her hand lingering on my arm, squeezing my bicep. My cock was semi-hard the whole time, and I swear she felt it once when she grinded back during a fast beat.
That night, after the function, the resort rooms were packed because of the big family. Somehow, due to booking mix-up, Priya and I ended up sharing a deluxe room with two single beds (parents thought it was fine since we’re cousins). The room was luxurious – big bed actually pushed together, AC cool, balcony overlooking the pool. We changed into night clothes: I in shorts and t-shirt, she in a thin satin nighty that ended mid-thigh, no bra, her big boobs bouncing freely, nipples poking clearly.
We sat on the bed talking till late, reminiscing childhood, laughing about old pranks. She lay on her side facing me, nighty riding up, showing smooth creamy thighs. The conversation turned personal. She admitted she had a breakup recently, felt lonely. I said the same about my single status. “Bhaiya, kabhi kisi ladki ke saath... you know?” she asked shyly. I confessed limited experience. She giggled, “Mujhe bhi proper nahi hua ab tak. Bas thoda thoda.” The air thickened with tension.
She scooted closer, her leg touching mine. “Thand lag rahi hai AC se,” she said, pulling my arm around her. I spooned her naturally, my chest against her back, hand resting on her stomach. Her ass pressed right against my crotch. My cock hardened instantly, nestling between her soft ass cheeks through thin fabric. She didn’t move away – instead, she wiggled slightly, making it worse. “Priya... yeh theek nahi,” I whispered, but my hand slid up involuntarily, brushing the underside of her breast. She moaned softly, “Bhaiya... please... mujhe bhi garam kar do.”
That was the spark. I turned her towards me, our faces inches apart. Her eyes were filled with raw desire. We kissed – tentative at first, lips brushing, then deep, tongues exploring hungrily. She tasted like sweet wine from the sangeet. Her hands roamed my back, pulling me closer. I cupped her breast over the nighty – so full, heavy, soft yet firm. Her nipple was rock hard under my palm. She gasped into the kiss, “Ahhh... Rohan bhaiya... haan...”
I pulled up her nighty slowly, exposing her naked body underneath – no panties either. Her pussy was shaved smooth, lips puffy and already glistening. The scent of her arousal – musky, feminine – drove me crazy. I kissed down her neck, to her breasts. They were magnificent: large, perfectly shaped, light pink areolas, erect nipples begging for attention. I sucked one greedily, swirling my tongue, biting gently. She arched her back, moaning louder, “Haan bhaiya... chuso mere boobs ko... kitne din se socha tha iske baare mein...” My other hand kneaded the second breast, feeling its weight, the silky skin.
My fingers trailed down to her pussy. She was soaking wet, juices coating my fingers as I rubbed her clit in circles. She bucked her hips, “Ahhh... Rohan... finger daalo... please...” I slipped two fingers inside her tight hot cunt, pumping slowly while sucking her nipples alternately. Her walls clenched around me, so velvety and warm. She came quickly, body trembling, juices flowing over my hand, whispering “Mama ki beti ko finger kar rahe ho... ahhh cumming!”
She pushed me back, eyes wild with lust. “Ab mera turn,” she said, tugging off my shorts. My cock sprang out – 7.5 inches, thick, veiny, pre-cum dripping. She licked her lips, “Bhaiya ka lund... itna mota aur lamba...” She stroked it slowly, then leaned down, licking the pre-cum off the tip. The warm wet tongue sent shocks through me. She took me in her mouth, sucking eagerly, bobbing her head, saliva dripping down the shaft. Her big boobs hung and swayed as she blew me. I groaned, “Priya... teri muh... kitni garam aur tight hai...”
I couldn’t hold back. I pulled her up, positioned her on her back, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy was pink, swollen, inviting. “Daal do bhaiya... apni mama ki beti ki chut mein apna lund...” she begged. I rubbed the head along her slit, coating it in her juices, then pushed in slowly. She was incredibly tight – virgin-like grip – hot walls stretching around me. Inch by inch I buried myself fully. We both moaned loudly at the forbidden union. “Ahhh... poora andar... mama ki beti ko chod rahe ho aap...”
I started thrusting – slow deep strokes at first, savoring every sensation: her pussy squeezing me, her boobs bouncing hypnotically, her nails digging into my shoulders. The room filled with wet squelching sounds, skin slapping, her moans “Haan Rohan bhaiya... zor se... chod mujhe...” I kissed her deeply while pounding harder, sweat mixing in the humid night. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper.
She came first – pussy clenching rhythmically, body shaking violently, screaming “Aaaahhh... cumming bhaiya ke lund se... haaan!” That triggered me. I thrust deep and exploded, pumping thick ropes of cum inside her, filling her womb with cousin seed. The taboo creampie felt insanely erotic.
We didn’t stop. After catching breath, she climbed on top, sinking onto my still-hard cock. Her pussy was sloppy with our mixed juices, dripping down my balls. She rode me wildly – grinding, bouncing, big boobs jiggling in my face. I sucked them while she rode, hands gripping her round ass, spanking lightly. “Ahhh... bhaiya... tera lund meri chut ko barbaad kar raha hai...” She came twice more, each orgasm soaking us further.
Then doggy style – her favorite. On all fours, ass up, lehenga memories flashing as I admired the view. I slammed in from behind, watching my cock disappear into her pink pussy, her ass cheeks rippling with each thrust. I pulled her hair gently, “Le Priya... mama ki beti ki gaand maar raha hoon...” She pushed back hard, “Haan zor se... bana do mujhe apni...” I reached around to rub her clit, making her cum again, squirting slightly.
Final round missionary again, slow and intimate. We kissed passionately as I thrust deep, cumming together – me filling her once more, her walls milking every drop.
We collapsed, bodies entwined, sticky with sweat and cum. She lay on my chest, my cock softening inside her. “I love you Rohan bhaiya... yeh galat hai but itna sahi kabhi nahi laga,” she whispered. I held her tight, knowing this forbidden cousin bond was sealed forever.
The wedding continued, but every function had secret touches, stolen kisses in corridors. Late nights we fucked again and again, exploring oral 69, anal teasing (but saved for later). Even after returning to cities, we meet secretly whenever possible. Priya is my secret lover now – the thrill of mama ki beti never fades.
This is my true confession. Thanks for reading.