Chapter 14
Aryan spent the night tossing and turning. There was a battle raging inside him. The very mention of his sister in his mind made his cock twitch with desire. He had already masturbated twice tonight thinking about her. “God, what a beauty. Why was she my sister? Wish she was my girlfriend!” His thoughts started drifting towards what if she was his girlfriend? How would he date her? Which romantic places they will go to? How will he make love to her? Her breasts were so large yet firm, he thought. And her ass….how will she react if he grabbed it. The thoughts gave him a painful erection and he went to the washroom and masturbated again…..
Next morning Anushka wondered what is making Aryan so distant? She was now determined to woo him back. “He just needs to be nudged in the right direction.” She thought. Then she remembered how his eyes followed her every move and how he looked at her boobs. A smile appeared on her face
"Aryan, can you help me with this?" Anushka called out from the kitchen, her voice a mix of sweetness and urgency.
Aryan looked up from his book, the words momentarily blurring as he registered the sound. He sighed and set the book aside, walking into the kitchen. Anushka was standing on tiptoe, her hand reaching for a jar on the top shelf. Her shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of her midriff, and the way her jeans hugged her hips was not lost on him. She looked over her shoulder at him, her smile bright and hopeful.
"What's up?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual despite the sudden tightening in his chest.
Anushka giggled, stepping aside as Aryan reached up and grabbed the jar of pickles for her. She looked at him with those big, doe-like eyes that always seemed to get her out of trouble. "Thank you," she murmured, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. Aryan couldn't help but feel a twinge of something unfamiliar as he handed it over.
Her beauty was undeniable, even in the most mundane of situations. Her 34C boobs filled out her shirt in a way that was both subtle and tantalizing. The fabric clung to the soft mounds, hinting at the firmness beneath. The neckline dipped just enough to show a hint of cleavage, a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath. Her flat tummy was a canvas of smooth, tanned skin, her navel a tiny, perfect innie that drew his gaze like a magnet. It was the kind of belly that you just wanted to run your fingers over, tracing the line of her waistband and the curve of her hip bones.
Her jeans were snug, hugging the contours of her body like a second skin. They emphasized the gentle swell of her buttocks, each cheek rounded and inviting. They swayed ever so slightly as she moved, creating a mesmerizing rhythm that seemed to play a silent melody just for him. The way the fabric clung to her curves was like a visual symphony, a testament to the perfection of her figure. It was as if she had been sculpted by an artist who knew exactly what would make the blood rush to a man's head.
Her tummy was a marvel of nature, flat and toned from countless hours of yoga and dance. It was a canvas of soft, golden-brown skin that begged to be touched. Above the waistline of her jeans, her navel peeked out, a tiny jewel in a sea of perfection. It was a simple, innocent detail that seemed to hold the power to make the most stoic of men weak in the knees. Whenever she bent over slightly, the fabric would stretch taut, giving him a glimpse of the treasure that lay beneath.
Her ass was a masterpiece in itself, round and firm without being overly voluptuous. It had just the right amount of jiggle that made his heart race every time she walked away from him. The way the denim cupped her ass cheeks was like an unspoken invitation, a silent promise of the delight that awaited anyone lucky enough to get their hands on her. Her hips swayed gently with each step, the muscles shifting and playing beneath the fabric like an unspoken dance just for his eyes.
Aryan's gaze traveled down her legs, which seemed to go on forever. They were long and shapely, leading down to the most delicate ankles and dainty feet. The sight of her bare toes peeking out from her flip-flops was enough to make his mouth go dry. He had to force himself to look away before she turned around and caught him staring. But even as he did, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to hold those ankles in his grip, to feel her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself in her warmth.
The thought sent a jolt of desire through him that was almost painful. His eyes darted back up to her face, but she was busy searching through the fridge, her back to him. He took the opportunity to let his gaze wander again, this time focusing on the way her ass moved as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The fabric of her jeans hugged her curves in a way that made him ache, his cock growing harder by the second. He imagined peeling those jeans down, exposing the panties she had on underneath. Would they be simple and white, or something more daring? The mystery of it all was driving him wild.
Her laughter rang out again, snapping him out of his reverie. She was holding up a pack of chocolate chip cookies, a playful glint in her eye. "Look what I found!" she exclaimed, turning to face him. The sight of her made his heart stumble in his chest. She was so beautiful, so tempting, that it was all he could do to keep from reaching out and taking a bite of her instead. Her smile grew as she saw the look on his face, and she took a step closer, setting the cookies on the counter. "You know, these are my favorite," she said softly, her voice dropping an octave. "But I'd share them with you."
Aryan swallowed hard, his guilt weighing him down like an anchor. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way about his sister. It was wrong, it was taboo, and yet, here he was, his body betraying him at every turn. He tried to convince himself it was just a fleeting attraction, that he could control it, but the way his cock throbbed at her nearness made a mockery of his self-assurances. He felt awkward and unsure of himself, the object of his desire was not a girl from his class or a celebrity, but the girl he had grown up with, shared meals and secrets with, the one who had seen him at his worst and still loved him.
His thoughts were a tumultuous storm of conflict. Every time she leaned over, her breasts threatening to spill out of her shirt, he felt a hot rush of guilt that was quickly overshadowed by a wave of raw, primal need. It was as if his body had been programmed to respond to her, and now that she was of age, it was demanding he act on those desires. But his mind rebelled, throwing up images of their mother's horrified face, their father's disappointment, and the countless lectures he had endured about family boundaries. It was a battle he didn't want to fight, but one that raged within him nonetheless.
Anushka, seemingly oblivious to his internal struggle, continued her innocent flirtation. . It was intoxicating, like watching a moth drawn to a flame, and she couldn't resist the urge to fan the embers. She turned her back to him again, reaching for a glass in the cupboard. The way her shirt stretched across her back was deliberate, the arch of her spine pushing her breasts out, creating the perfect silhouette. She could feel his eyes on her, could almost hear the sound of his breath catching in his throat.
Satisfied with his reaction, she turned and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms beneath her chest. The motion pushed her breasts up, creating a tantalizing display that was impossible to ignore. She batted her eyelashes, her voice a seductive whisper, "Could you grab me a glass of milk too?" Aryan nodded, his eyes lingering on her cleavage before he turned away to fetch the milk. The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, electric current that sizzled and crackled just beneath the surface.
As he poured the milk, Anushka took a step closer, the heat from her body radiating against his back. She leaned over slightly, her breath hot on his neck as she whispered, "I know what you're thinking." Her words were a dare, a challenge, and his entire body tensed. He couldn't deny the effect she had on him; his cock was a painful reminder of his traitorous desires. He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of what was to come.
Without warning, Aryan reached out and squeezed her ass, his hand firm but not painful. Anushka gasped, her eyes going wide with a mix of surprise and excitement. The sound was music to his ears, and he felt a thrill of power rush through him. Her cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink, and she bit her bottom lip, a silent invitation that sent his blood racing. He squeezed again, feeling the softness of her flesh give way beneath his fingers, the firmness of her muscles beneath. She didn't pull away, didn't say a word, just leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest.
He set the milk down, his hand sliding up her side to cup one of her breasts. Her skin was hot, her nipple a hard peak through the fabric of her shirt. He felt her breath hitch as he began to knead it gently, feeling it swell beneath his palm. She tilted her head back, her eyes half-lidded with desire, and he couldn't resist the urge to kiss her neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and she moaned softly, arching into him.
Her hand reached up to the back of his head, tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. Her other hand slid down to rest on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The contact sent a jolt through him, and he knew he was lost. The guilt was still there, a niggling voice in the back of his mind, but it was drowned out by the roar of his need. He wanted her, and she wanted him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.
With a groan, he turned her around, pushing her back against the counter. He claimed her mouth with a kiss that was desperate and hungry, his tongue sliding against hers as their bodies melded together. He could feel the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest, the rapid beating of her heart matching his own. Her hands slid down to his waist, her nails digging into his skin as she pulled him closer still.
Suddenly, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the staircase, growing louder as they approached the kitchen. Panic shot through Aryan, and he hastily stepped back, his hand dropping from her waist. Anushka's eyes were wide with shock and desire, her pupils dilated, her lips swollen from his kiss. They both knew they had to act fast to avoid being caught.
Aryan quickly turned and pretended to busy himself with the dishes, his heart hammering in his chest. Anushka, ever the quick thinker, grabbed the jar of pickles and began to rummage through the fridge, her cheeks still flushed from their illicit contact. The footsteps grew closer, and the door to the kitchen swung open.
Their mother's shrill voice pierced the silence, calling for them both. Their mother looked between them, her eyes wide with panic. "Your father... he's had a heart attack," she gasped.