Capítulo 3308: RETURN TO RUNAWAY
The young man in military green had come to find, only when the bus moved on to the highway, that his purse was missing. He was not sure, where could have he missed it. Not much money was left in it, but for a black and white group photo of his family. Dismissing out of his mind, the chance of a photograph proving a long lost son to his parents, he fished out some money from his hand bag and bought his tickets. He was returning after a long time to find back his family.
When he got down at his native village, it was already getting dark. The house in which he took his birth was occupied by strangers. And also he found that he himself had become a stranger to the whole village. In the twenty years of his absence, all the old known people had disappeared, it seemed. He was perplexed. But, luckily, the village folks could guide him to a known old family.
At the so called Policeman House, where he was directed to, he was greeted by a young woman, wearing a very low cut blouse exposing half of her breasts. Feeling ill at ease to look at her face, he addressed her half exposed breasts. Yet she grasped him.
- Ah, Chandru, you've returned at last! Can't you recognize me, your childhood friend Mala?
With nostalgia, he realized that in his childhood days he was called only as 'Chandru'. He ran away from home to be brought up by a patriot to make a soldier out of him. And the army people made it a practice to call him by his last name 'Mohan'; also by which he introduced himself a week back, he recalled, to the gorgeous girl residing by the railway station he alighted. And his full name was, in fact, Chandramohan.
- Thank God, Mala, I found here at last a soul, who could recognize me. Oh, the way the village has changed!
- It's quite a long time since you left this place, you know.
- And some unknown people are there in my house. What happened, Mala, to my parents and sister?
- Your parents sold your house, soon after you left and went to a tea estate in Kerala and...
- You do have their address, no?
- But...I think...dad knows their whereabouts. Right now, he is on a pilgrimage. Let Kumar my brother come; he may be a help. But, first, come and have something to eat.
Giving first something to eat...this earth has not yet dried up, after all!
Mala and her younger brother Kumar were his closest friends in his childhood days. The three of them, as a set, always play together. And Mala was a brave girl. She used to dive jump into the deep irrigation wells dug in the fields around the village. Mohan and Kumar learned their swimming only from her. But Mala had a funny habit. As soon as she jumped into a well, she would pull away her clothes; toss them off, on the steps, and swim naked. She was around twelve years old then, having tits bulged out to the size of lemons; and vulva, to the size of an 'idly' (a South Indian rice cake). And Mohan was at ten, then, and Kumar was around eight years old.
And even now, as he was eating the food Mala served, Mohan could see that she hadn't changed a bit. When she bent down, her low cut blouse exhibited him her breasts down to their dark areoles and darker nipples. And on her sit downs and stand ups, her sari moved carelessly to reveal, now and then, all of her thighs and even more. A born exhibitionist she is, he thought as he smiled within.
- And you ran away from home, because your dad beat you up.
- Yes, Mala, but that was history.
- But it was not history the sole reason why your dad beat you up. The only other soul who knows it is perhaps me.
- But... how...?
- I was there on the scene, you know. I came there to call you for a swimming. And I found you there behind your house, on your knees, with a chocolate on your palm; and your younger sister standing beside, with her skirt hiked up, panty rolled down, displaying her gleaming little triangle. I hid myself to watch what was going to further up, but your father stormed in from nowhere and the rest, of course, is history.
- It was all because of you. Chanced to look quite often at your nakedness...me...
- Don't blame me for your own inclinations. I understand very well the natural itching of a brother for his own sister. It happens, you know...
By then her brother Kumar arrived. He was in uniform: a policeman after his father. Kumar, as his sister, was very happy and proud to meet their childhood friend, who had been back as a responsible army man.
Kumar, after his dinner, had himself closed in with his sister in a nearby room. And when they emerged out, Mohan could feel something bad.
- Mala didn't tell you, in the first place, only to have you had some food. I feel worse to give you this news: your mom and dad are long been dead. Nearly six years now.
There was a long silence. Mohan tried very hard to fight down his emotions.
- How?
- An accident: a land slide in the mountains; both together...our dad had been to the funeral.
- And my sister?
- She is ok. Married, dad said, to a Malayalee. Don't worry; dad will help you finding her.
Mala and Kumar tried their best to cheer him up. Of course, as they pointed out, it was long since it happened.
And about Mala and Kumar he came to know, as they told him, that Mala was married in a large family in a southern town. Her husband was a salesman, touring most of the time, giving her no trouble. And she had a twelve year old daughter going to school, but her in-laws are so supportive that she didn't have to trouble after her, either. Kumar, on the other hand, was yet to get married.
Mohan was given to view a photo album. It was Mala's marriage album. While scanning through it, he observed, in a few photos, a familiar face: the girl he met a week back at the teashop thatched house by the railway station he alighted.
- Who is this one?
Mala came around behind him and bent as low as to load her ample breasts on his shoulder.
- Ah, yeah, that one indeed is Chandrakala, your own sister. Of course she was there at my marriage.
HORROR struck him.
- And where exactly is she, now?
- We told you, she married a local Malayalee, there in Kerala, but her exact address could be with our dad.
That night was almost sleepless to him. The face of that teashop thatched house girl was looming over, whenever he woke up from his disturbed sleep. And also he dreamed a dream again and again in which Mala exchanged in nude. Though her boobs were large with long nipples, her vulva was hairless and smooth as it was on those days she swam inside the irrigation wells.
There was chillness in the night wind that again was not to his comfort. And then, in the middle of the night, he heard murmur nearby. It knocked out his sleep completely.
- I'm afraid he may wake up.
- No chance. He had traveled a long distance, you know, tired enough to sleep a week.
- A week now we are at this; a break today...
- But we planned to do this until dad returned, you know. And I want to have positive result this time.
- For that matter, why not this one at least from your husband?
- Don't... as if nothing...
- Yet there is a husband who indeed married you.
- But here you're still unmarried. I know why you'd rejected Chandrakala.
- That was because she had a pockmarked face. Didn't I reason it so?
- But the actual reason was not her pockmarked face....
- You know it, then?
- I know it as my cunt knows your cock.
- No more argument. Have your way.
- That's my child granting stud!
Mohan was shocked by the meaning he gathered from the murmuring voices. A beam of light was coming from a crack on the door of an adjacent room; and also a sound like that of a dog drinking water. He rolled up and put his eye to the crack in the door. And there inside...
Mohan collected his bags and stealthily left that house and his native village. He traveled, this time, little longer by road to catch the train at another station than the one where he alighted a week earlier. What he overheard of Chandrakala and her pockmarked face from the conversation of Mala and Kumar proved his worst feared doubt. Yes, he was running away once again from his native place and also from his sister.
*
Same day, there in that teashop thatched house by the railway station, Kala the gorgeous girl, while sweeping the floor, did broom out a purse that was lying hidden under a wooden box. Wondering, she picked it up; opened and found, inserted in its left pouch, the small size photograph of her family.
How come? And whose purse is it? Puzzled was she at first. But slowly it dawned on her. It hit her like a boulder that the military man, whose purse it had to be, was none other than her brother, who ran away from home long back, as a boy. With horror she recollected their meetings and her intention to get pregnant by the seeds of him, her own brother.
*
It was raining. Through the rain-thicket, a train slithered to a halt in a small country station. And as the train pulled out, it had deposited on the deserted platform a lonely passenger: a tall young man in military green. The young man searched around to locate someone to enquire the way out. And there he saw the station master locked his office in no time, unfurled an umbrella and vanished into the rain. Left to lurch in the railway station, the passenger had no other choice but to listen to the rain, patiently.
When the rain thinned down, a teashop at a distance swam into view. He stepped out and arrived at the teashop only to find it shuttered down. Attached to it was a thatched house. And nobody was there in the vicinity. Puzzled, he walked around.
Behind the house, were an ancient brick-walled well and a palm leave enclosure: the bath-hut. Coming around, on the far side wall, he could locate a wooden door, bolted within. Hopefully, he knocked at the door. With a click, it swerved in. And there, in a tight blouse and low-hip mundu (dhoti) was standing a young woman of fine curvatures.
They stood spellbound, looking at one another, as in a dream. The woman regained her senses first, disappeared and appeared again, in no time, with a towel cast over her big boobs.
- I'm sorry. I thought it was my husband. Can I be a help?
- Its ok, I just arrived by this train. If you can tell me the way to the bus stand...
- No way. I mean, the bus stand is on the other side of the river. The only bridge, a low level one, has gone under water. It's raining nonstop for the past ten twelve days. No bus. No way.
- O my... where'll I go now?
There was a silence fell in between them and a delay in her decision making. For a moment, a tremor seized him as he thought that the door was going to be slammed on his face securing the doll once for all. But by then a moist wind blew her dhoti deep in between her thighs and her towel off her boobs. As crimson crept on her cheeks, she spoke.
- As of your look, are you a military man?
- Yes, I am.
- Come in, then, if you please.
He accepted her hospitality. She made him tea. Drinking hot tea, both exchanged their life stories, of course, with much withheld on either side. His name was Mohan; had to travel by that route for the first time, heading to his native, on leave. She was Kala; arrived at that town five years back with her husband from the state of Kerala. And by the by, her husband, on an important mission, was out of station.
With rain outside, night approached soon. They had dinner together and went to bed. It was a one room house. No cots; no mattresses; only mats, bed sheets and pillows, a la Indian country style. They lay down with five six feet gap in between. But both were young and in their prime.
With his profession, posted mostly at remote places, he hadn't had much chance to frequent with opposite sex. And she, married at a tender age, was without child for five long years. Emptiness craved in both, to get filled up. Neither could catch a sleep.
Full lips, big boobs, narrow waist and wide hips -- what a figure she has! He turned on his bed.
Tall, broad chest, flat stomach and strong limbs -- what a build he has! She heaved and sighed.
- No sleeping? Are you ok?
- The thing is... with my husband away and... you being a stranger...
- Same problem here... with your husband away and... you being so attractive...
- Attractive? Me?...(she had pockmarks on her face)
- I've never met a girl with a body like yours.
That made her cheeks lighted up and her thigh-junction trickled hot. She wanted to have his cock down there immediately. Yet she waited for him to make the first move. After all she was a woman and had to behave in such context.
The room was lit by an oil lamp. Like a chiseled-out statue he was lying there, on his back. A bulge was obvious in his trousers.
And she was lying there like a freshly knitted garland. The towel she brought to cover her breasts was nowhere. And her boobs were bursting the seams of her blouse. Her navel down was a deep pit where shades played hide and seek. Her thighs apart pronounced, at their summit, a mound so promising.
He lost his control. In a swift move with his body he covered her. And she willingly bloomed under him by all her organs. They kissed.
Her blouse gave way readily at the touch of his fingers and her boobs jumped into his hands. By them he seized her and sucked on at her juicy lips. She wrapped him in her long limbs and felt his hardness hitting at her gate, demanding the doors to open. In an unbearable hurry, she herself pushed down her dhoti as well as his pajamas and ho! A rock-hard robust warm thing split her in two and pervaded her depths! She gasped.
Her juicy hot cunt around his whopping cock was so unbelievably tight that he jammed his testicles against her buttocks and kept immersed his entire shaft in there, not willing to lose the delight. But his cock was not submitting. It was restless to move into action. He lifted his butts, pulled his cock all the way out and plunged in again. The race started.
The sweet mad sensation, kindled by his warring cock at her swamping cunt, brewed her entire body and seized her head in a Himalayan fervor. She groaned and moaned and clung to him for her very life. He fucked her with all his might. His cudgel was ravaging her vaginal folds. And her breasts were molested by his hands and mouth. Yet she was immensely happy to suffer so. As the tempo built up, in a yearning eagerness, her itching cunt she kept lifted up to receive his thrashings.
Never before had he a cunt so tight and hot and juicy nor a girl so worked up, fucking crazy. The feel around his cock itself was maddening, but then her writhing under him, in their fucking game, was too much to bear with. He lunged in and out.
She was at her peak long back, but soaring on and on, clamping her cunt around his thumping cock to meet his finale. And then it happened. He crushed his mouth against her lips and his balls against her butts; and deep inside her, surged a hot flood and filled her cavern. She scaled the peak once again and never had, in her life before, a feeeeeeeling-so-goooooood. And then she felt his entire body collapsed on her, slackening down to a sweating stillness. She enclosed him in her long warm limbs. And together they relaxed and went to sleep.
Next morning when Kala woke up, Mohan was already up and exercising. His muscled body, drenched in sweat, stirred up a heat in her crotch. But a shame cropped up at the same time, on remembering the previous night happenings. She covered her nakedness, washed her face and started making tea.
It was still raining. They had their tea and then went out with umbrellas to complete their morning calls. She prepared 'puttu' (a rice cake) and green pulses for their breakfast.
- I'm going to have a bath. You want me to make hot water?
- Not at all. I'll go into the rain and get myself washed.
- Nice idea. I'll go into the bath-hut and do the same.
- What's the difference?
- Come, if you want, and see.
She went out through the rain and entered the bath-hut. He too undressed and went out into the rain, only in his briefs. He drenched himself completely and enjoyed the shower a few minutes. When he entered the bath-hut, to his pleasant surprise, he found her stark naked. The bath-hut had been covered all around but no roof.
- Nobody comes this way?
- No chance. Even if so, nobody dares to push open a bath-hut.
She put her fingers into his briefs waist band and pushed it down. His cock sprang up readily. She put her arms around his neck and felt his hot hardness, down below on her abdomen. She pressed her breasts against his chest and looked up his face. Their eyes met. He could see through her black broad eyes a well of love. He shuddered.
- I love you too, he said.
- Prove me, now.
- How?
- Simple. Fuck me.
A four letter word from her mouth and a back-forth movement by her hips raised him to the boiling point. They locked their lips. His big hands roamed down to her buttocks, caught and squeezed them like he did the previous night with her boobs. When he squeezed her buttocks, her cunt lips were pulled out and that gave her a pleasing sensation. She wanted to push down his cock and fit it into her vagina, but at the same time didn't want to remove her arms from his neck, for she enjoyed drinking his ambrosial love by their soul mating kiss.
How long their kiss went like that they didn't know. But they had certainly come to know that they were in love. Love that simply needs no fucking, but invigorates to end up in extravagant fucking.
- You have nice big buttocks.
- I know your liking by the way you squeeze them.
She turned around and pressed her buttocks against him. On her front, which was under warmth till then by his embrace, the rain felt like needles. As if to console it, she took his hands and brought them over her breasts. He shifted his squeezing to her breasts. And his cock was against the small of her back, hitting.
- Your cock, I'm afraid, is going to pierce my back and come out of my navel.
So he bowed then his knees a little and pressed his cock against the crevice of her buttocks. That felt better for both.
Sheltering his cock along the crevice of her buttocks and resting her whole body on his front, he with his large hands continued kneading her boobs. Her boobs were big, but her nipples were small, as small as cardamom seeds. He took those nipples between his thumbs and middle fingers and rolled them this way and that way and made her whimper.
- I can't wait anymore. Fuck me, my bull.
- Nor can I. Bend forward, my cow.
- What?
- Don't afraid, I'm mad to have, in this cold rain, only the warmth of your cunt.
She bent forward supporting herself, holding on a bamboo cross bar of the bath-hut. He guided his stiff cock in between the glistening tight lips of her cunt and shoved. It slipped in smoothly due to her excessive secretions. As his cock head advanced through her vagina, it stretched her cervical ring and entered her womb. She let out a groan and shut her eyes in bliss. The feeling of getting filled her entire sheath and more was tremendous.
- Ah! My...tear me down, I won't care.
- Aha, what a tight juicy hot slit you have! Owning this, your husband is lucky.
- Shhh...don't remind me of that puny cock now. Let me enjoy your massive drill.
- Alright, here I go; up the hill into your cave of thrill!
Stretching his hands he held her breasts and rammed his cock in and out of her slippery sheath. He battered her cunt; the rain battered his back. It went on and on. The rain conditioned the climate and kept him cool. She didn't expect such a long fuck. Her cunt exploded again and again. Her head spun through unbearable drifts. And then suddenly he sped up his strokes and shot his hot seeds deep into her womb. Both grunted and trembled. As his flows and ebbs subsided, he pulled out his cock, straightened and turned her around and kissed her lips. She encircled his neck with her arms once again and hung on him like a child.
They completed then their wild bath and entered back into the dryness under the roof of her house. Both were hungry and the 'puttu' with green-pulse curry was delicious. After breakfast they spend together an hour in making their lunch. No meat; no vegetables because of continuous rain. They made curries only with pulses.
After lunch they had a nap. When they woke up again it was getting dark already. They had no mind to get up from their bed. He was on his back. She leaned her head on his broad chest, lying close to him on her side. She ran her fingers though the dense hairs on his chest and he, on her cheek, arm and lunch-interval. They intended not, yet gradually their body warmed up. His cock made a tent of his pajama. She eyed it happily and giggled.
- What are you going to do with it, now?
- Nothing, if you say you don't have wetness in between your legs.
- No, I haven't.
- Let me check.
He rolled her clothes up and his fingers traveled through the hairy thatch of her mound. Blushing, she raised herself to help him reach. While his fingers were roaming over her mound, she nibbled at his earlobe. And when his middle finger buried in her oozing slot, she moaned in his ear passionately. He started finger-fucking her. She shivered and pressed against his moving finger, demanding more.
- Come on; enter me now with your big fuck-thing.
- Didn't you say that you are from the state of Kerala?
- So what?
- I was told that Keralite girls were experts in coconut claiming.
- You naughty.
Excited by his request, pulling off his clothes and her own, she mounted him for the so called coconut claiming. (Coconut claiming is that in which the shroud of the fruit will be removed by hitting it on a spike fixed upright). She held his long cock and guided its bulbous head into her gash. Taking his entire length in, she rested her fleshy buttocks on his strong thighs and straightened up. He smiled at her and, at that, her cheeks went red. And to hide it she tumbled on him, burying her face to his neck. He was keyed up by her shyness and patted her back, affectionately.
- Ok, ok. I won't interfere. Be free.
- I feel shy, when you look at me like that.
- Is it your first time this way, then?
- It's the only way every time my husband wants me to have sex with him. A lazy man he is.
- Rather a laissez-fair man, we should say.
Giggling, with her breasts pressed upon his chest, she raised her buttocks and started sliding up and down on his upright cock. And at the same time, she put her tongue into his mouth and kindled him with deep kisses. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the wonderful feeling created on his cock by her sliding juicy cunt. Few minutes later, she got up and sat on his thighs, with his cock held inside, and then resting on her soles, she started jumping up and down on his pole. Her boobs too swung up all along. He held them tight to squeeze in delight. And as he smiled this time, she reciprocated.
Next, she turned herself around showing him her back and rode his cock. He could watch the rise and fall of her large buttocks and the hide and seek movement of his cock as well. Thrilled, he too moved his hips up and down.
Taking turn, now and again, on these positions, she danced on his cock and lifted him to float with her to real heaven. It was a fresh fantastic experience to him. And at one point, when her cunt gushed out abundant fluid and she let out a groan, he couldn't hold any long and rushed in his semen up into her depth. Convulsing, she collapsed on him. He held her tight and kissed all over her face in appreciation. And they relaxed as such with his limp cock held in between the folds of her sheath, her fluids soaking his pubic hairs.
Forgetting the world outside, they were in their own world day and night, day after day.
And outside, the clouds exhausted themselves and raised high to bid the earth a white good bye. With warm fingers the sun touched the earth. The railway, which stopped traffic with the train the young man arrived, resumed. Flood subsided and the low lying bridge also rose across the river.
The thatched house, by the railway station, too had to open its door, at last, into the world outside. The young military man, dressed up in his green once again, was ready to depart. But the woman, who accommodated him for the past one week, was lying there on the floor; face down, hairs spread loose and sobbing. The military man didn't know how to pacify her and was standing there like a lifeless tree.
And then suddenly she got up, ran up to and threw her arms around him.
- I'll not let you go.
- But...
- Give me a baby and go.
His soul was troubled by her plain pleading. Tears welled up in his eyes too. They wept together. He realized then, he could not leave her and go just like that. He put his hand around her. And as they clung to each other, a fire flared up as to eat away their bodies.
A warm wind blew and steered the door to shut.
Clinging to him she slipped down to her knees. Her fingers fumbled at the front of his trousers. Desperate as one who didn't want to let go off her prize, she pulled out his semi hardness. Next moment, trapped in the heat of her sucking mouth and savaged by her tight wrapped lips, his cock stretched to its full length. Holding its stem in both hands she sucked at it as though a hungry dog gnawing at a rare bone.
He felt weak at his knees. Plowing through her let-loose hairs, his hands held her head for support. And plowing through her tight clamped lips, his cock fucked in to access more of her mouth. It went on in a knee shaking to and fro rhythm. The warm slurping movement of her lip-grip was too good for him to hold long. And his dam broke without notice. The catastrophic flood she tried her best to contain, in quick gulping, but it was too much and gushed out on her neck and blouse.
His cock limped back to its semi hardness. He didn't want to end it on that note. By the by, her act of cock sucking triggered his imagination. He lowered her down and pushed her clothes up her thighs. Pulling two pillows, he pushed them, one above the other, under her jutting buttocks. The dewed lips of her flowered-out cunt puffed up. On those lips he crushed his mouth and jabbed her petal messed slit with his tongue. Unexpected of this approach, her middle jerked up in a pleasure shock. Lying flat on his face down, he devoured her full bloomed vulva.
She wailed as in madness. Clutching his short hairs, she thrust her hips up and rubbed her dripping cunt against his face. As his thin lips clamped around her clit and suckled at it, her entire body was in throes of pleasure. The lashing of his tongue and nibbling of his lips were too much for her to bear with. She arched her back, let out a long wail and flooded his mouth with a gush of thin liquid to drip down his chin.
By then his cock was hard again and threatening to drill the floor under. He pulled himself up and squatted down against her thighs; resting his drill bit against her bore. Lying there on her back she raised her legs. And he held her raised legs and placed them on his shoulders. She put her hand in between and wrapped her fingers around his cock. His cock was already drooling through the slit of its bulbous head. And she fed its egg shaped big head into the gaping mouth of her sodden cunt. He leaned forward with all his weight. Her knees were pushed against her breasts. Her cunt scored up. And his entire cock rammed into her depths.
They fucked. He plunged into her again and again as if trying to push his whole body there in and come out as her baby. She in turn, taking in his deep long thrusts, thrived within as if to receive his whole body to conceive him as such in her womb.
Till the last fuck they had, it was only the passion that worked. But this one was different. They hadn't even taken off their clothes. Nor had they fucked quite long. It was a simple lovemaking so deep and pure to the core.
And after a few more diving through her honey comb cunt, he melted. His body, his soul, his everything surged into her to flood and fill her womb. As his hot seeds gushed in, she locked him in her legs and hands and blabbered, as her inner something was going on expanding to contain unto his last drop.
They didn't speak after that. He got up on his legs and pulled up his trousers. A money purse from his pant packet slipped down and skidded under a wooden box. But none of both noticed it.
She wiped his face with her sari-end and brushed his lips with a light kiss and stepped back. And he opened the door, stepped out and was gone; she being stayed back on her doorstep, with an all accomplished smile painted to her lips.
*
As Mohan boarded the train in the next station, after the one by which that thatched house teashop was, he landed into a compartment where a girl with a known face was sitting. It was none other than Kala the teashop thatched house girl. He wanted to hide somewhere, at that instant, but dropped the idea immediately. She then noticed him and rushed into his arms. Luckily the train was almost empty and none were there in their compartment. Breaking her hug, she opened her bag, took out his purse and showed him their family photo.
- So, you're my runaway brother, aren't you?
- Yes, I am. I too came to know it when I picked up your face from Mala's wedding album.
- Oh! You are then running away once again from me. Do you know how come I am on this train? I'm heading to the address that I found in your purse. Alright, then, if you're on the runaway, I'll get down at next station and return alone.
- Don't blame me. I never thought you would ever come to know about me. Actually, I was afraid of your feelings, if you happened to know. That's why.
- But what was done by us was done, knowing not our real relationship.
- Is that so simple? Don't you mind it then?
- All I mind, now, is that I have back my once lost brother.
He was sitting there like an idiot. She left him to brood on it and went away, saying she was going to the toilet. The train was crossing a bridge. He thought his heart was so noisy that it would be difficult to calm it down. He wrestled within himself without knowing what. He chained his luggage under the seat and he was standing, next minute, outside the toilet door, glancing this way and that way. Nobody was there to watch.
One of the toilet doors opened then and his sister was about to come out. He pushed her back into the toilet and locked the door from within. Then, in a hushed up voice he talked.
- You want to get back to your husband?
- What's the idea?
- I couldn't come out of the days and ways I spent with you. Simply I couldn't.
- Poor soul!
- Mala is fucking her own brother Kumar, you know.
- What?
- I saw it with my own eyes, last night. They are doing it for twelve years now. Kumar refused to marry you because of his love with his sister; nothing to do with your pockmarks, I heard him saying.
- Oh, I see!
- And even her first daughter was from his seeds, conceived before her marriage. And they are at it now for one more child.
- Unbelievable. Yet I believe by the reason why Kumar remains unmarried. It's horny to learn him giving his sister child after child.
- Same way I can open up your womb, I promise. You can have babies; plenty. Be my wife, rest of my life.
- Oh my...you hook me by my weak spot. Take me then. Take me with you all the way. My husband will never come to know that I have run away with my own brother to bear him children.
As they kissed, the train was slow on a river bridge echoing their hearts. With his luggage safely chained up, he zipped down his trousers. His cock sprang out like an angry snake and raised its head ready to attack. She hiked her sari and petticoat above her hips, exposing her cunt. There was not much space to move around. Standing on one leg, with her back against the locked up door, she lifted the other leg and placed her foot on the washbasin support. He stepped in into the bay she created. She caught his impatient cock and guided its head into her sheath. It slipped in smoothly all the way up. They fucked.
The train started picking up speed; so did the fuck action of the runaway brother and sister.
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