I Fucked My Sister Swara’s ass On The Eve of Raksha Bandhan
Hello, my fellow readers of ISS. I have seen many people share the most amazing and arousing sexual experiences of their life here. I loved reading and fantasizing about them all. So it only made sense that I should share mine.
My name is Rajeev, and I am a simple middle-class married man. Mostly I live a normal life with my loving wife and a cute daughter. I love my 9-to-5 job, although it can sometimes get stressful. I usually don’t keep any secrets from my wife.
A few months back, our company hired new interns. Among them was a young girl who frequently flirted with me. There was an incident where, while we were discussing something in the conference room. She dropped her pen to the ground.
Then as she went down to look, she opened a couple of buttons of her shirt to seduce me with her cleavage. I’m not proud of saying this, but it worked. Seeing my erection, she cheered, saying, “I found it,” and quickly grabbed my dick.
At one point, the situation was so uncomfortable that I had to end her monthly review early. Then I went to the office bathroom to jerk off. I felt so guilty that I told everything to my wife. Then one day, I asked the intern for a lunch date where my wife joined us. We talked and settled the matter then and there.
I made it very clear, “I belong to my wife only.”
Having said all this, there is one secret that I couldn’t dare reveal to my wife. I have just gone too far along with it. If I talk about this with my wife, it could even end our marriage. The guilt of this shameful act kills me every day, especially around Raksha Bandhan.
So I have finally decided to share it with you guys, anonymously, of course.
Let’s call her Swara. Why Swara? Because she looks like the actress Swara Bhaskar but hotter and fairer. Just like me, Swara is also married and has two children. Even then, we have maintained this secret tradition. Every year on Raksha Bandhan, I go to her place.
She ties a rakhi around my wrist. We eat food cooked by her, we chat, and while being surrounded by her family relatives, we find a way for a quick fuck. The sex we have is purely for pleasure. Just a way to keep our bond strong despite living in different cities. I live in Mumbai while she lives in Pune.
Nothing more. Although, she often jokes that if our spouses die in the future, we promise to get married to each other. I know she does not mean it. She loves her husband, and I love my wife.
Every year when we fuck, I fear being caught and our lives being ruined because of that. Hence whenever the Raksha Bandhan festival approaches, my blood pressure shoots up. Hence today, I have decided to get this burden off my chest by telling you the story of how it all began.
This happened over a decade ago when we both were in college. Swara was a beautiful girl in our society. She is two years older than me. But in seventh grade, she had to repeat her year, so she ended up in my class. Since then, I have been in love with her.
Despite being in the same society, then in the same class in school, and then in college, I never dared to talk to her. I was too intimidated by her beauty and sexiness. Even our friend circles were different.
Whenever there was a social function, I stared at her like a creep. Swara is proud of her appearance, so she never hesitates to show off. Even then, she used to wear deep-neck dresses that displayed some cleavage, decent enough to be accepted by our society.
I never dared to talk to her. I feared I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off her beautiful cleavage.
For years we lived together and studied together, but we never interacted. Then one day, this happened. Swara was, as usual, beautiful, chatting with her friends outside the college. She wore a cute tight green T-shirt with a deep neck and jeans.
I, too, was there but far standing with my friends. My nerdy friends used to motivate me, saying that I should make a move. “Make a move, idiot! If any one of us is capable of making her girlfriend, then it is you.”
While they continued to tease me, I kept my eyes on Swara. She smiled, laughed, gasped, and jumped with excitement. Her every reaction and every motion made her boobs squeeze as if they had a language of their own. I was in awe of her beautiful cleavage. Sadly I was not alone.
A handsome hunk boldly approached her. He confidently talked to her. Then when the moment felt right, he went for it. In public, in front of her friends and other college students, he grabbed her right boob shaking it.
Swara felt embarrassed. She gave a tight slap across his bony cheek, but it only made her hand hurt. She pulled up her dress as much as possible and covered her chest with her hands. It was a very awkward position, and whoever was watching it didn’t know how to react.
“Now is the time for you to shine,” said my friend, showing me his bike’s key. He did not expect what would happen next.
“Damn right, it’s time,” I said, taking the key from him.
Before he would stop me, I was gone. I started the bike and drove next to where Swara was. Gathering all my anger and confidence, I said, “Swara, come with me.”
She knew me, but we had never talked before. Still, when I called her, she came. Sitting behind me, I took her home. On the way, she hugged me tightly from behind while resting her chin on my shoulder. I could feel that she was crying.
Also, her tight grip around my waist told me that she was happy I made this move. Just before reaching our locality, I stopped the bike on an empty highway.
“Why did you stop here?” she asked.
“You might want to wipe your tears before going home,” I said, giving her my handkerchief.
She smiled, wiped her tears, and asked, “Who are you?”
What she meant was, why didn’t I show this confident side of mine before? One reason we could have a proper conversation on the highway and not before was because she had pulled up her top and her ample cleavage was no longer visible.
I took her to our society. She held my hand and took me to her home. There Swara told everyone how I courageously stood up to the bully, protected her, and brought her home safely. She might have added a few details that never happened but made me sound like a hero.
Her family and relatives there, for some reason, cheered hearing that. They thanked me, patted my back, and expressed their gratitude. Swara’s mother brought a lot of snacks, sweets and other tasty items to make me eat. She fed me a couple of items herself.
I was sitting and chatting with her cousins when Swara emerged from her bedroom in a beautiful traditional purple sari. I was mesmerized by her beauty. She was not looking sexy as usual. Still, I was in awe of her beauty.
She came, applied tilak on my forehead, fed me sweets, and waved the aarti thali in front of my face. Meanwhile, I continued to look at her. Before realising and reacting to what was happening, Swara lifted my right hand and tied a rakhi around my wrist.
I didn’t realize until her grandmother mischievously hit one of Swara’s cousins on his head, saying, “Learn something from him. This is how a brother should behave.”
Hearing people call me Swara’s brother made me feel uneasy. My sight got blurry while my hearing faded. I just felt numb. In the conversations that followed, the smile on my face and the answers I gave weren’t genuine.
By the time I reached home, the news of me being a real brother to Swara had spread everywhere in society. Everyone celebrated my act. Meanwhile, I cursed my bad luck.
“Stupid me. I did not do anything for years, and when I finally made my move, I did it on the day of Raksha Bandha. I’m a fucking idiot. What will I tell my friends?”
That evening our society members organized a Raksha Bandhan celebration. Because of what I did, that asshole society secretary came up with a brilliant idea of celebrating me. He announced that all the single girls in society would tie a rakhi on my wrist.
“Rajeev is a brother you want to have,” he cheered.
Look, I didn’t mind making all the women of the society my sisters. But why Swara?
“Why God? Why Swara? Couldn’t you reserve her to be my wife?” I cried while praying to god before going downstairs for the celebration.
By the time I reached the society ground, the function had begun, and everyone had started munching on evening snacks. Wherever I went, they praised me. My father proudly introduced me to all the outsiders. Meanwhile, I kept on looking for Swara.
That’s because whenever they asked me about the incident, they also asked, “Where is Swara?” As if I knew. Swara’s family members were there eating but not her. My friend who had come to take his bike burst out into laughter, hearing the news that I was Swara’s new brother.
This was very embarrassing. I had to do something to fix it. While chatting with my friend, Swara’s mother came to talk to me.
“Beta, did you see Swara come down?”
“Oh… maybe she is still upstairs. Can you go check on her?”
“Yes, you. After all, you are Swara’s brother now. She will listen to you if you tell her to come down fast,” said her mother.
While we had this conversation, my friend struggled to contain his laughter. Once she was gone, he placed his arm on my shoulder and said, “Swara’s bhaiya, jaiye aur apni behen ko laiye. (Swara’s brother. Go get your sister).”
I was hesitant, but I went anyway. I knocked on the door, but she did not answer. I waited until she partially opened the door, saying,
“I’m not dressed yet. Oh, it’s you. Please come in.”
She opened the door and let me in. She was wearing a pretty shiny blue one-piece dress with a long skirt. The dress had a zipper on the back, stuck in between. Actually, it was a tight dress, so her bra strap prevented the zipper close completely.
It was surprising that Swara’s back was exposed in front of me, yet she didn’t bother covering it. Perhaps sisters are casual about these things around their brothers. I wouldn’t know because I am a single child.
“Rajeev. Can you please help me with the zipper?” she spoke while standing in front of a full-length mirror.
She displayed a cute smile to persuade me to do it. It was weird. My hands were shaking. I stood very close to her bare back. Looking down, I tried to pull the zipper up. In order to get the momentum, I pulled the zipper down to starting point a couple of times. When I did that, I could see a subtly visible butt crack.
I was getting excited. I prayed that Swara does not notice my erection. After moving the zipper over a dozen times, I gave up.
“What is the problem?” she asked, “Is it the bra? It’s the strap right that is preventing it from closing.”
“Yes, it’s the… the… thing….”
I just couldn’t say the word ‘bra’ in front of her.
“In that case, help me remove it.”
Things were progressing very fast. My heart was racing. I was sweating excessively. While I stood behind her, Swara slightly removed the dress and lowered it while covering her chest with her hands. She had moved her long silky hair to cover her front.
As I looked to unhook the bra, her butt crack was more visible than before. I even noticed her pink underwear. My hands shook and shivered as I unhooked the bra. Swara carefully held the dress with one hand and prevented her bra from falling with another.
She didn’t mind me looking at her chest through the mirror. She swiftly removed her bra and pulled up her dress in place. She did it so efficiently that I failed to catch a glimpse of her nipples. If it were any other girl making me do this, I would have made a move.
I would not have stopped until my dick penetrated her pussy. But, just this morning, Swara declared me her brother. I understood that this relationship came with boundaries and restrictions.
“There are certain things you should not do with your sister,” I heard a woman say in one incest porno I had watched.
When Swara re-positioned her dress, she patiently waited for me to pull up the zipper. I held the zipper but didn’t want to pull it up. I just wanted a few minutes to memories her beautiful, fair-skinned bareback. When our eyes met via the mirror, I saw a faint smile on her face. She was blushing.
I struggled to speak out but knew it was now or never.
“You are so beautiful,” I said while scanning her top to bottom, front and back. Her smile widened. Then moving my hand up, I gently pressed it against her back. I watched her reaction as I gently ran my fingers over her back from top to bottom.
Swara simply shut her eyes and accepted my touch. I leaned forward and breathed on her neck, saying, “I don’t know if you know this. I have a crush on you.”
I spoke and then gave a gentle kiss on her neck. She gave out a sudden shiver. Then looking at me, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I was intimidated by your beauty,” I said while sliding my hands over her shoulder and onto her chest. I lowered my hand inside the dress until I felt her cleavage.
“You were always so confident about showing off your beauty. Meanwhile I…”
As I located her left nipple, I gave it a gentle pinch. She reacted. She was enjoying the way I continued to play with her breasts. Her eyes were almost always shut. She opened them partially when she wanted to say something.
“You should have told me sooner. I liked you too, but you never came to talk to me.”
These words caught my attention. All this time, we stood facing the mirror, me behind her as I conversed with her reflection.
“What’s the point in me expressing my feelings? Anyway, you would have made me your brother.”
“No.” she said, getting my hand out, “It was not my decision.”
“Although we have not announced it yet, my parents have agreed to a proposal for me to marry my father’s friend’s son. My fiancee belongs to a rich family. We are already engaged. Since then, my parents have become very protective of me. If they ever feel that I am getting attracted to a guy, they pull me away from him or make him my brother.”
She then turned sideways as we made direct eye contact. At that moment, my lips were just an inch away from hers. It felt very natural for me to move forward and press my lips against hers. We kissed very passionately.
I don’t know about her, but this was my first kiss. Our lips detached. When I opened my eyes, I had fallen in love with her yet again. She saw that in my eyes, so she said, “I cannot promise you any marriage commitment. All I can offer you is….”
She went silent and gently removed her dress. The beautiful silky fabric brushed her soft, flawless skin and fell to the ground. At that moment, she was standing topless with just her soft baby-pink underwear on. She had placed her arm over her breasts for modesty.
“We don’t have much time,” she whispered.
I quickly lowered my pyjama and my underwear. For the first time, my cock was erect and exposed in front of a woman. She was witnessing a virgin dick in its full glory. Strangely it was harder than it usually was when I used to masturbate.
I slipped my cock inside her underwear from behind. She then used her hands to guide it and penetrate her asshole. It was warm and tight as I stuck my dick in one quick thrust. She gave out a loud moan bending her back in an arc. She rested her head on my shoulders while I fucked her from behind.
Swara had removed her hands covering her breasts and let me see them in their full glory. Perhaps she was embarrassed because her areolas were smaller than average. It didn’t bother me. I played with her tits while pounding her ass from behind.
As a virgin dick, it didn’t take me long to reach the point of climax. But before I could spray my jizz inside her, there was repeated knocking on the door.
“Quick, hide!” she said, instantly pulling her dress to wear it. I also pulled up my pants, although I struggled to shove my erection inside.
“Hide in the bathroom.” she said, pointing at the door, “And take this with you,” she said, giving me her bra. There was only one reason she gave it to me. I pressed her soft, fragrant brazier against my face while I got rid of my erection.
I was disappointed because I couldn’t finish inside Swara. But you, don’t be disappointed. Since that day, we fucked every opportunity we got until her marriage. Although she was already committed to another man, she never let me penetrate her vagina.
On the night before her wedding, we lay naked on the rooftop in each other’s arms. That’s when we made a ‘Raksha Bandhan pact’. Basically, it was about me visiting her every year during Raksha Bandhan when we would find a way for a quick fuck.
I didn’t take this seriously initially, but Swara was dead serious. Since then, I have visited Swara at her husband’s place every Raksha Bandhan. Despite the odds of living in a huge joint family, she always found creative ways for us to fuck.
Since she was married, we always did anal, but there was one time when she got careless. One Raksha Bandhan, she came to my place along with her husband. That night all three of us slept on the floor.
In the middle of the night, I don’t know what got into her. She not only let me fuck her pussy but also forced me to cum inside her.
This is the part where I fear. Swara’s younger child is a daughter. She looks a lot like me, acts like me, and we are a great team. Also, based on little Sakshi’s age and birthday, her conception would fall right around the night we fucked. Whenever I asked Swara, she always denied it.
“It was dark that night in the room. Did she think she was having sex with her husband? That is why she forced me to cum inside her vagina?” I wonder, even today.
I don’t know the truth. I don’t care. I love my wife, and I also love Swara. Despite Swara being a married woman and a mother of two, even this year, she is looking forward to our meeting for a quick fuck.
Thank you, guys, for reading. After sharing my story with you, I feel a slight relief. Me fucking Swara, every year in her sasural, is an interesting story by itself.