Hi guys, my name is Aditi Elena Yadav. You can call me Elena. I’m in my 40s now, and I have 13 kids. I’m a white and blonde woman. And yes, I am Indian. If you are wondering how that happened, well – allow me to explain.
My mother is a white lady. She’s American. When she was pregnant with me, my biological father dumped her. She was heartbroken and depressed. The betrayal had such an effect on her that she tried to commit suicide.
She was standing on the edge of the bridge, ready to jump into the river below. An Indian man, who happened to be walking by, spotted her and stopped her from doing so. After hearing my mom’s story and comforting her, he took her to his apartment.
My biological father not only ditched my mom but also left her with no money. Mom had left her job to look after the household. My mom and the Indian guy got closer over the next couple of months. They eventually fell in love and married, and he became my step-dad.
After marrying my step-dad, mom moved to India with him. And that’s how I was born here. My first name and my surname come from my step-father.
I’m about to share the story with you all, which took place many years ago. I was in my early 20s back then. Just to let you all know, I got married when I was a teenager. And no, it got nothing to do with child marriage and stuff. I just did the stupid thing of getting pregnant.
My husband was Indian. He was 4 years older than me and was a college student. My husband had 1 elder sister, 4 younger brothers, and 1 younger sister.
After my wedding, I moved in with my husband. I had just gotten into class 11 while he was in 3rd year of his college. We both lived in Lucknow. I had to drop out a year after junior college. I got pregnant once more and gave birth to twins.
He got a job in Bangalore, and we had to relocate. I got into a college and lived like a housewife with him, managing my studies and my 3 kids. After 2 years working for his company, he was offered a job in the US.
I was in my first year of college when he shifted to America. The higher education over there is too expensive. So, I stayed back in Bangalore with my three daughters and continued my studies while he lived overseas.
A year after my husband moved to the US, one of his brothers enrolled in the same college as me. I was in my 2nd year of college when my brother-in-law (Dewar) Rohan moved in with me. We lived in a flat.
Calling it a flat would be wrong. It was the basement of the house with 4 rooms. Each room was converted into a flat with a kitchen and a bathroom. They were meant to be rented out as separate flats. But when my husband and I saw that when we moved to Bangalore, we decided to rent all 4.
The flats were smaller than the bathroom we had back home. We chose it because the rent of the place was too low. The entry to the basement was independent of the rest. It wasn’t technically a basement. The house was built on a slope.
From one side, it was a basement. From the other side, it was the ground floor. The side that faced the slope opened onto a road that led to a dead end. Everyone used it as a parking space. All the other houses had their backside facing it, and none opened onto that street.
On the other side of the road was a big park. 6 months had passed since Rohan came to live with me. Everything was going smoothly. He and I attended our classes. He helped me with the house chores. But cooking was all left to me. He didn’t know how to cook, and as a woman, I was expected to know that.
One night, after my daughters were asleep, he and I were sitting on a sofa in the drawing-room and chatting. The flats were small with barely any space, and all came with a kitchen and bathroom. We had converted 1 into kitchen and dining room, 1 into our drawing-room, and 2 into bedrooms.
We were having a beer together. Once our first bottles were done, he went into the dining room to fetch the second one from the fridge. When he came back, he suggested that we go outside to the park. We cab have our beers under the moon and open sky for a change. It sounded great.
I was wearing mini sports shorts and a tight tank-top. My husband never liked me wearing Indian dresses. He always wanted me to wear short western dresses to show off my assets.
He wanted me to flaunt my boobs and my white legs. He wanted me to look sexy and slutty. He insisted that white women are supposed to look slutty and not sanskari.
It was a wonderful night. Clear sky. A bright moon and twinkling stars lit up the sky above. We sat on the green grass and chatted slowly through our beers. Gradually, our conversation drifted toward my husband. I won’t lie. I was missing him dearly. It had been over a year since I had seen him.
We talked a lot about him. Rohan told me stories about their childhood. As we continued to talk about him, I began to miss him more. It eventually made me break into sobs. Rohan tried to calm me down. He kissed me on my head. Then on my cheeks.
He moved onto the back of my neck. His kisses were getting me aroused. I hadn’t felt a man’s touch in a long time. I began to respond. He continued to kiss my body parts, and soon, our lips locked as well.
My brain had completely switched off at that point. My body was reacting to his moves. As his hands moved onto my boobs, mine moved around his head. He slipped his hand underneath my top and began squeezing my boobs. I wasn’t wearing a bra so that he could get the feel of the flesh.
My nipple hardened up upon his touch. He broke his kiss. Like an automatic machine, my arms went up. He lifted my top over my head and tossed it aside. I was half nude in front of my brother-in-law and wasn’t even aware of it. He grabbed my boobs and sucked my nipples.
He laid me down on my back. The cool green grass tickled me and got me more aroused. He kissed my body. His warm breath felt soothing on my skin in the cool night. He kissed between my boobs and kissed my belly. Then, as his hands grabbed the belt of my shorts, I closed my eyes.
He kissed my naval and, in a snap, pulled my shorts and panties off together. I opened my eyes and saw him admiring my clean pussy. A gleam on his face like a child staring at candy and wishing to have it. I sat up and pulled his face closer to mine.
We kissed as I took his shirt off. I undid the string of his pajama and pulled it down. He wasn’t wearing underwear. His thick erect dick popped out like a bird had been freed from a cage. I wrapped my fingers around his cock. It was nice and big and felt great in my hand.
I stroked it nicely before putting it in my mouth. I sucked it with all the passion in the world. He stroked my hair as my head moved around his dick. He patted my head like a dog doing a good job while I sucked it.
He pulled his cock out and lifted my face. I smiled with pleasure. I was like a dog, googling him with my sparkling eyes, seeking his validation. He gently laid me down on the grass once more. I opened my legs, and he buried his face in them. A warm feeling surged up my body as his tongue touched my clit.
“Ah,” a long moan escaped my mouth.
“You want me inside you?” Rohan asked.
“Yes, please,” I whispered.
He kissed my wet pussy lips and kicked his pajamas off. He pulled me closer, adjusted my lower body and came on top of me. I closed my eyes in anticipation. He set the tip of his cock on my pussy lips and pushed his shaft in.
I gasped and closed my fist, plucking a few blades of grass. It felt so great. It felt amazing.
After over a year, I had a dick inside my pussy. It felt so good at that moment. Though his cock wasn’t as long as his brother’s, it was thicker than his. My sex-deprived body was finally getting what it wanted for months. It didn’t take me long to be fully excited.
“Ahhh, ahhh, ahhhh,” I moaned softly.
“It feels so good,” Rohan exclaimed.
“Yes,” I said quietly, “it feels great, ahhh, it feels great.”
“Oh, Bhabhi, what a pussy you got. It’s so good.”
“Yes, Rohan, do me, do me,” I cried while his dick slowly drilled my cunt.
After nearly 2 years, having a cock in me felt more than great. I wrapped my legs around his back and buried my fingernails in his back. I finally opened my eyes. There was a great deal of satisfaction in them. And when my eyes met him, I saw a great deal of excitement, joy, and pride in him.
“Ah,” I moaned, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. His thick cock stretched my pussy wider than it had ever been. He fucked me nice and slow in that position for a good 20 minutes.
Then he pulled out and said, “Bhabhi, can we switch positions?”
“Sure. What position do you want?” I asked excitedly.
“Doggy!” he replied hastily.
I turned over and got on all my fours. He licked my cunt, though I didn’t see the need for that as it was already too moist. He teased me for a while by rubbing my pussy lips with the tip of his cock. It felt so good to have someone do that.
He slowly pushed it in and gently moved it in and out of my pussy. His hands grabbed my ass-cheeks. My boobs moved back and forth as he made his thrusts.
“Oh yes, yes, yes, yes,” I moaned.
“You like it, Bhabhi, you like it, you like it.”
“Yes, yes, yes, I like it, I like it, Rohan.”
“You want me to go hard?” he asked after 15 minutes.
“Yes, please, do me harder,” I pleaded.
He pulled my hair back and started pounding my pussy harder.
“Ahh, yes Rohan, yes Rohan, yes Rohan, yes Rohan,” I moaned, not loudly but not softly either.
After ten minutes, I felt his cock stiffening inside me. He pulled my hair tighter as he reached his climax. With 2 strong pushes, his cock exploded inside me. He shot his load deep inside my thirsty pussy.
He pulled out and fell on the grass. I turned around and took his limp dick in my mouth. I licked it clean and sucked it back to its roaring best. Once he was aroused, I grabbed him and pushed his dick inside my cunt.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I cried aloud. My moans filled the silence of the night. I didn’t care if people heard me. Neither of the houses had its windows or doors facing the park. My boobs bounced like basketballs as I jumped on his cock.
“Fuck me, Rohan, fuck me, fuck your Bhabhi.”
Rohan grabbed my boobs and squeezed them. Jets of milk shot from my nipples. I threw my head backward. He closed his eyes. His cock stiffened once more. My pussy tightened up around his stick. He shot his load in me once more, and I squirted all over him. We both came together.
I fell on top of him. We kissed. After half an hour, we went to it again. We had broken all the walls that were between us. We began fucking regularly, and it eventually got me pregnant. It was a big deal. I didn’t know how to make it look legitimate.
I was stressed out. But then, I got lucky. Just 3 weeks into my pregnancy, my husband called and told me that he was coming back, on vacation, for 10 days. He arrived just 4 days later.
Rohan and I decided that I should fuck my husband well and later announce my pregnancy after he’s gone. That way, my child would become legitimate. I did so. I eventually gave birth to my first son.
Rohan continued to fuck me after I delivered the baby. But little did I know what a big scam had been pulled on me.
That was my story, folks, about fucking my hot and horny bhabhi. I shall be back with more soon. Do give me your thoughts on this in the comment section below, or you can find me at [email protected].