The Price of Admission

“Dude… my sister is a slut now!” Piyush exclaimed, taking another swig from his beer bottle.

“What can we do? We needed the money, so she had to become one,” I replied.

For the next hour, the sounds of Shabhavi’s moans and Seth’s grunts continued to filter out from her room. “Ah… Oh God… Faster, Sethji… Ohhh… Harder, please! Come on!” Shabhavi’s sweet voice was both intoxicating and disturbing. I felt a surge of arousal as I touched myself through my pants. Seth was treating my sister like a real whore. He thrust his hips back and forth with increasing intensity, his cock driving deep into her tight cunt. Shabhavi arched her back, taking him deeper, urging him on. Then she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him passionately. Seth responded by fucking her like she was his own wife. After a while, Seth’s climax approached, his body trembling with anticipation. Shabhavi knew it was coming and held him close to her chest.

Seth ejaculated into my sister’s hot, wet cunt with the force of lightning. After a few moments, the sounds subsided. It meant that my sister had been used and abused. Both she and Seth were drenched in sweat. They lay there together, their bodies intertwined, before Seth began kissing Shabhavi’s neck passionately.