Young Indian boy’s sexual adventure with his girlfriend and sister

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G-A was occupied by Mrs. Heena Banu, aged 55, a retired government servant with 3 daughters and 2 sons. Her husband died after a tragic road accident. Her Eldest daughter is Mrs. Nazeema Banu aged 28, married with a daughter of three years Riyana. Nazeema’s husband Mr. Masoom was in the Middle East and did not return after he left. Farooq, aged 25 is the eldest son working in a clothing showroom. Second daughter Ms. Noora Banu, aged 23 worked as a front desk attendee in a hospital. Third daughter Ms. Haseena Banu, aged 21 failed her 10th grade and was at home ever since. Youngest son Mr. Shabaz, aged 20 studied Engineering with me in the same college that I studied.

G-B was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Stany D’souza, a newly wedded couple. Mr. Stany, aged 32 owns a travel agency and Mrs. Teena D’souza, aged 27 was a house wife.

First Floor

First floor flats were (F-A) that was towards the left of the stairs and (F-B) towards the right.

F-A was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Mukunda Aiyer. That’s my father who is a retired Bank manager aged 58 and my mother is Mrs. Sukanya Aiyer aged 50, homemaker. My father was also the president of the apartment ‘Happy Homes’ and was responsible for the maintenance of the apartment. My sister is Ms. Richa Aiyer, aged 24 and I’m Rajesh Aiyer, aged 20.

F-B is a vacant flat (the previous owner hanged himself there, hence difficult to find a new tenant). My dad has the keys to this flat.

Second floor

Second floor flats were (S-A) towards the left of the stairs and (S-B) towards the right.

S-A was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Vasantha Krishna. Mr. Vasantha Krishna, aged 52 was a government employee in the postal service. He was a drunkard and his wife Mrs. Asha, aged 39 was a homemaker. They have a son Arun, aged 19 who was studying arts in a local college.

S-B was occupied by Mrs. Seema, aged 37. She was divorced and lives with her daughter Ms. Shifali, aged 18. She is pursuing bachelor’s degree in Science. Mrs. Seema works as an HR manager for a marketing firm.

Summer of 2008

I was always with Shabaz and Arun and we were all of the same age group. We were the trio of the ‘Happy Homes’. We used to share all the things that happened amongst us and all of us were prude when it comes to sex. Shabaz was very skinny and fair. Arun on the other hand was build like a bull. He was tall, dark but nowhere near handsome. He had a foul mouth which came after his father Mr. Vasantha, who would often come back from work drunk and would fight with his mother Mrs. Asha. The very environment in which he was brought up was harsh and that in turn replicated in his behavior.

Arun and I owned Motorbike. Shabaz would always hop on my bike and we three would ride our bikes towards the nearest Women’s College. We would always park our bikes opposite to the college main gate and drool over every girl that passes by. We would then comment on their body structure, ogle at them shamelessly and would wink our eyes at them when our eye contact met. This was our daily routine in the evenings.

We saw a women pass by us in a black sari which was tied was below her naval. She must be one of the young professors in the college, only they wore saris. She had a backless blouse and she definitely knew how to sway that ass when she walked. Her bra straps were see through and were tightly held to her skin.

“Aaaah. I just want to rip her clothes off and fuck that big ass day and night,” said Arun rubbing his dick over his pants right in the public. The outline of his large member was visible outside his pant. It did not matter to him if anyone would be watching his public display of lust; he never really cared what others thought about him.

“Have some decency bro, this is a public place. Behave yourself,” said Shabaz who was now embarrassed of his friends behavior.

“You scary punk, you don’t get to tell me what to do and what not to,” said angry Arun. He then lit a cigarette and started smoking in open. His very look would scare off any women. The cigarette in his hand made it worse.

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