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Hello everyone, this is my first story here.
My name is Bala, I have a 6-inch tool and I was 21 years old when everything began to change. I am your average South Indian guy, the kind who blends in with the crowd. My life was simple, predictable even, until the day my best friend, Deepak, unknowingly set me on a path I never expected to walk.
Deepak and I had been close for as long as I could remember, sharing everything from our secrets to our mischief. He was more than just a friend – he was like a brother to me.
Deepak’s family was much like mine – traditional, close-knit, and deeply rooted in culture. His younger sister, Divya, was 19 at the time, a year younger than us. She was short, with an infectious smile and a presence that could make even the dullest room come alive. To everyone, she was just Deepak’s little sister. To me, she was something more, though I didn’t realize it at the time.
Deepak was the one who introduced me to the world of porn. It started innocently enough – just two curious guys exploring the forbidden. We’d find isolated spots, far away from prying eyes, and huddle over his mobile phone, captivated by the images flickering on the screen.
What began as harmless curiosity soon became something more, something we didn’t quite understand but couldn’t resist. It became our secret ritual. We’d watch, then experiment, trying to make sense of the overwhelming urges that flooded our bodies. Eventually, we crossed a line – holding each other, helping each other, until we both found release. It was strange, yet oddly comforting. We never talked about it, but it became a part of our friendship, something that bonded us in a way nothing else could.
Then came the day that changed everything.
I had gone to Deepak’s house, as I often did, expecting to find him in his room. Without thinking, I walked in, only to be greeted by a sight that made my heart race – Divya, in the middle of changing her clothes. She froze, and so did I. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thick with something unspoken. Then, she called me “brother,” a term that should have brought me back to reality, but instead, it only made the tension worse.
I quickly shut my eyes, mumbled an apology, and backed out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest.
For days after, I couldn’t get that moment out of my head. I tried to act normal, but something had changed. Divya didn’t mention it to Deepak, and I certainly didn’t bring it up, but the memory lingered, simmering just beneath the surface. I found myself thinking about her more often, about the way she looked at me that day, about the unspoken tension that hung between us.
I started visiting Deepak’s house more frequently, though my reasons were becoming less about him and more about my best friend’s younger sister. Every time I was there, my eyes would subtly search for her, my ears straining to catch the sound of her voice. It wasn’t long before my curiosity took on a new form.
One day, while in the bathroom, I noticed my friend’s sister’s panties in the laundry basket. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t resist. I reached for them, feeling the fabric between my fingers. The sensation was electric, sending a thrill down my spine. Before I knew it, I was searching for her bra too. Finding it, I slipped both on, feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and guilt. Standing there in her clothes, I looked at myself in the mirror, caught between who I was and who I was becoming.
This secret act became my obsession. Each visit to Deepak’s house was an opportunity to indulge in this private fantasy. I’d sneak into the bathroom, or sometimes even into her room if I was sure no one would catch me, searching for her clothes, feeling that forbidden thrill every time I slipped them on. But with each time, I grew bolder, the fear of getting caught slowly giving way to the intoxicating rush of what I was doing.
Then, one day, everything escalated.
Deepak wasn’t home, but I went over anyway, unable to resist the pull. Divya answered the door, surprised to see me. We exchanged pleasantries, and she invited me in, telling me that Deepak would be back soon. She mentioned she needed to go out to pick up something from the nearby shop and asked me to wait until she returned.
The moment she left, the familiar urge took hold of me. I knew it was dangerous, reckless even, but I couldn’t stop myself. I made my way to her room, heart racing, and began searching through her things. I found her bra and panties, and this time, I didn’t just stop there. I stripped down, slipped into her clothes, and then added her skirt and t-shirt. Fully dressed in her outfit, I stood in front of the mirror, unable to recognize the person staring back at me.
I was lost in the moment, so much so that I didn’t hear the door open. When I finally noticed, it was too late – Divya stood there, eyes wide, taking in the sight of me in her clothes! My heart stopped. Panic surged through me, but there was no escaping the reality of what I’d done. I expected her to scream, to react in any number of ways, but what she did next was something I never could have anticipated.
Divya walked towards me, her expression shifting from surprise to something else – something curious, almost playful. “You saw me that day, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice soft, almost teasing. “Now, I want to see you.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. There was no one else in the house. Her parents were out of town, and Deepak wasn’t due back for hours. The tension between us was palpable, charged with the thrill of the forbidden. Slowly, almost mechanically, I began to undress, my hands trembling slightly as I removed each piece of clothing. I stood before her, naked and vulnerable, unsure of what would happen next.
Divya’s eyes roamed over me, her gaze lingering in a way that made my skin tingle. Then, she did something that sent my heart racing – she lifted her skirt, revealing a glimpse of red lace. “Do you like it, brother?” she asked, her voice a mix of innocence and something far more dangerous.
My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but the pull of the moment was too strong. I couldn’t stop myself from stepping closer, from reaching out to her. The lines between right and wrong blurred, leaving only the intense connection we shared at that moment. My friend’s sister smiled, a knowing smile that made my pulse quicken. She began to undress, and as she did, she revealed more than just her body. She confessed that she had been with other boys, that she knew what she was doing, and that she wanted this as much as I did.
When she sat on my lap, her warmth and confidence overwhelmed me, and I was lost in the moment. The way she moved, the way she guided me, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Every touch, every movement was electric, charged with the excitement of something new, something forbidden.
The connection we shared that day was intense, a mix of danger, excitement, and the thrill of the unknown. From then on, whenever she was alone, I’d find my way to her, each encounter more intense than the last.
We kept our secret, knowing that we had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. But the allure of it all, the rush of doing something we knew was wrong, kept pulling us back, again and again.
What began as an accident had become an obsession, a hidden part of our lives that we both craved, even as we knew it was something we could never let anyone else know. And with each passing day, I found myself more and more entangled in the web of desire and secrecy that had come to define my relationship with my best friend’s sister Divya.
iSS
