Rahul had been best friends with Arjun since school. They were the typical Delhi boys—cricket on Sundays, beer on Fridays, and endless talks about girls. Arjun turned 25 today, and the plan was a small birthday bash at his sprawling family flat in South Delhi. His parents were out of town for a wedding, leaving the place wide open for chaos. Rahul’s younger sister, Priya, was tagging along.
At 22, she was a slim, fair-skinned stunner with long black hair, sharp kohl-lined eyes, and a body that turned heads—perky C-cup tits, a tiny waist, and an ass that jiggled just right in her tight jeans.
Priya had always been the innocent one in the family, or so Rahul thought. She was studying at Delhi University, wore a salwar kameez to college, and blushed at dirty jokes. But lately, Rahul had noticed her sneaking glances at Arjun during family dinners.
Arjun, with his tall, muscular build, stubble, and that cocky grin, was the kind of guy who could charm the panties off any desi girl. The party started tame. Arjun’s other buddies—Vikram and Karan—showed up with whiskey, biryani, and a massive chocolate cake.
Priya helped in the kitchen, her white crop top riding up to show a sliver of her flat wheatish belly, her black leggings hugging her thighs. “Happy birthday, bhaiya,” she said sweetly, hugging Arjun a bit too long. Rahul caught Arjun’s hand lingering on her lower back.
As the night wore on, the drinks flowed. They played truth or dare, the kind that always got filthy. Arjun dared Priya to dance like in a Bollywood item number. She giggled, but stood up, swaying her hips to “Sheila Ki Jawani” blasting from the speakers.
Her crop top lifted, revealing the black lace bra strap. Rahul’s cock twitched. Arjun’s eyes were glued to her ass. “Truth or dare, Priya?” Vikram asked, his voice slurring from the whiskey. “Dare,” she said boldly, her cheeks flushed. “Strip to your bra and panties and sit on Arjun’s lap for the rest of the game.”
The room went silent. Priya bit her lip, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Okay… but only because it’s his birthday.” She peeled off her crop top, her perky tits bouncing free in the black lace bra, nipples already hard. Then the leggings came down, revealing matching black thong panties that barely covered her shaved pussy lips. Her ass was perfect—round, firm, begging to be spanked.
She sauntered over to Arjun on the couch, straddling his lap, her thighs spread wide. “Like this, bhaiya?” she whispered, grinding subtly against the bulge in his jeans. Arjun groaned, his hands gripping her slim waist. “Fuck, Priya… you’re killing me.”
Rahul watched, his own cock rock-hard in his pants. He’d jerked off to fantasies of his sister before, but seeing it real? It was surreal. Vikram and Karan cheered, pulling out their phones for a quick video.
The dares escalated. Karan dared Arjun to suck Priya’s tits. Arjun didn’t hesitate—he yanked her bra down, her dark brown nipples popping out, and latched on like a starving man. Priya moaned, arching her back, her hands in his hair. “Oh god, Arjun… harder…” Rahul couldn’t hold back.
“My turn,” he said, joining them on the couch. He grabbed Priya’s face and kissed her deeply, his tongue fucking her mouth while Arjun sucked her other tit. Priya whimpered, her pussy soaking through the thong, grinding on Arjun’s thigh. They moved to the bedroom.
Priya was on all fours on the king-sized bed, her ass up, thong pulled aside. Arjun was first—his thick 8-inch cock, veiny and uncut, slapping against her wet folds. “Happy birthday to me,” he growled, slamming into her in one thrust. Priya screamed in pleasure, her tight cunt stretching around him. “Ahhh! Fuck, it’s so big!”
Arjun pounded her relentlessly, his balls slapping her clit, her slim body jolting forward. Rahul knelt in front, shoving his 7-inch dick into her mouth. Priya gagged happily, drool dripping down her chin as she deepthroated him, her throat bulging. Vikram and Karan watched, stroking their cocks—Vikram’s was fat and short, Karan’s long and curved. “Switch,” Rahul commanded.
Arjun pulled out, his cock glistening with Priya’s juices, and flipped her onto her back. Vikram took her pussy, ramming in missionary style, her legs over his shoulders. “Your sister’s a fucking slut, Rahul,” he grunted, pinching her nipples.
Priya came hard, squirting on his cock, her fair skin flushing red. Karan went for her ass. He lubed up with spit and her pussy cream, easing his curved dick into her tight virgin asshole. Priya howled, but pushed back, loving the double penetration.
“Yes! Fill both my holes! Use me like your whore!” Rahul joined the fray, fucking her mouth again while the others railed her. The room filled with wet slapping sounds, moans, and filthy Hindi dirty talk. “Le lo meri behen ki chut, saale… Happy birthday, Arjun bhai!” Rahul laughed, throat-fucking her.
They rotated like pros. Arjun came first—pulling out to paint her tits with thick ropes of cum. Priya scooped it up and licked her fingers. “Mmm, tasty birthday gift.” Vikram followed, creampieing her pussy, the cum oozing out as he pulled away.
Karan dumped his load deep in her ass, making her squirt again. Rahul saved the best for last. He lay Priya on her side, spooning her from behind, sliding into her cum-filled pussy while fingering her clit. “You’re mine too, behen,” he whispered.
She turned her head, kissing him sloppily. “Always, bhai… fuck your sister harder.” The four of them used her for hours. Priya was a cum-covered mess—face glazed, tits sticky, pussy and ass leaking. She came countless times, begging for more. “Don’t stop… breed me on his birthday!” By 3 AM, they collapsed. Priya curled up between Rahul and Arjun, her body marked with hickeys and handprints. “Best birthday ever,” Arjun panted. Rahul smiled, stroking her hair. “And it’s just the beginning. Next time, we invite more friends.”
