Big Sister and Me
Copyright© 2026 by Abe
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - He was masturbating into her underwear night after night—rubbing himself against the soft lace of her favorite pink bra, spilling thick ropes of cum across the crotch of her pale-blue panties, then carefully folding them back into her drawer so she’d unknowingly wear his mark against her most intimate skin the next day. The secret thrill of seeing her walk around the house in those same stained pieces, hips swaying, ass cheeks shifting under shorts, kept him hard and aching for more.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Incest Brother Sister Indian Male Indian Female Anal Sex Cream Pie Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Big Breasts Indian Erotica Slow
Within a few weeks, she received a job offer from a major company in Bangalore—her dream job. She happily accepted the job and started packing. Everyone at home was overjoyed, but a void filled my heart. She left. She would occasionally come home for festivals, but we weren’t the same anymore. She would only talk to me when necessary and never look me in the eye.
I realized what I had done had changed us forever. Almost a year had passed, and I had graduated. Monica had settled in Bangalore. She had filled her Instagram account with photos of herself. She looked more beautiful than ever.
The anxiety inside me had subsided a little, but every time I saw a new photo of him, an old memory would resurface. Everything had changed since that day.
I often regretted having misinterpreted my feelings for Didi. Now that I had to decide on my career, I decided to pursue further studies in Bangalore. Perhaps I could improve myself there, or maybe ... something else.
But Bangalore was a completely unfamiliar city to me. Where I would stay, how I would get admission, what the expenses would be—I couldn’t understand anything. After much thought, I hesitantly dialed Didi’s number. My fingers were trembling, and my heart was pounding. The phone was ringing ... and I wondered if she would pick it up.
Seconds later, she answered the phone. Her voice lacked its old familiarity, but it wasn’t formal either. I hesitated and said, “Didi, I want to study in Bangalore ... but I don’t know anything about it.”
There was silence for a while. Then she said, “It’s good that you told me. Come, I’ll explain everything. Stay with me for a few days until you find a place.”
Hearing him speak brought a strange sense of relief. Maybe now something could change—or at least make sense.
Ten days later, I arrived in Bangalore. I carried a large bag with me, filled with essential supplies. I got off at the bus stand around ten in the morning and saw Didi again in person for the first time in ages.
She was wearing a white shirt and black pants. Her shirt was tucked in tightly, revealing the beautiful shape of her waist. The buttons on her shirt were slightly tucked, revealing the fullness of her chest. Her tight black pants accentuated her backside, making her look even more attractive. There was confidence in her gait, and a pause in each step.
She smiled and came to me. Without saying much, she hugged me lightly—just for a second. But in that one second, her chest was completely pressed against mine. The touch in that moment was slow but deep. Her warm, full chest pressed against mine, as if it had penetrated deep within. I immediately felt the softness of her breasts, hidden beneath her shirt, and that feeling spread throughout my body.
A few moments later, we hopped into a taxi and headed to his apartment. On the way, he looked out the window and said, “There are many good colleges here, but there’s one in particular that would be perfect for you. I’ve already gathered the information. Its faculty, placements, and learning environment are excellent.”
I listened intently. Her tone seemed more relaxed now, as if she were trying to be a sister again ... or maybe something more.
About half an hour later, we arrived at her apartment. She took out the keys and opened the door, and as I entered, I noticed her room. It was a bit messy—some clothes were spread out on the bed, a bra hung on a chair, and on a stool in the corner sat her black panties, apparently put away for washing.
As soon as Didi saw the state of the room, she laughed a little embarrassedly and quickly picked up her bra and panties and put them in the closet. Averting her gaze, she said, “Sorry, I didn’t clean up. Come on, take some rest; this is your room for a few days.”
I nodded and entered the room, looking around—the same scent, the same feeling—but now everything felt a little more personal.
Travel fatigue was overwhelming, so I lay in bed. Didi started leaving for the office. As she left, she said, “Take a rest. I’ll be back in the evening. The food is in the fridge. Take it out if you’re hungry.”
I just nodded slightly and closed my eyes. I didn’t know when I fell asleep. I slept all day soundly. In the evening, I was awakened by the sound of the doorbell—Didi had returned.
She came into the room and shook me, saying, “Get up, you’ve slept enough. Come, have some food.”