A Wild Taboo Threesome with Twin Sisters

Quiet Apartment, Open Bottle

I'm in Warangal, lighting oil lamps for Dasara, the air thick with incense and family chatter, but my mind keeps drifting to Parthu, alone in our Hyderabad flat. I picture him on our sofa, whisky glass in hand, missing my touch, my laughter. The apartment block must be a ghost town, its corridors silent, no neighbors' voices or footsteps breaking the stillness. Festive lights from Ameerpet's streets would filter through our balcony, casting a warm glow over our empty home. I imagine him lonely, sipping to dull the ache of my absence. How wrong I was. While I pray for blessings, Parthu's night is spiraling into something else entirely.

In our flat, Parthu slumps across the sofa, his Amazon laptop discarded, its screen black after a day of debugging code that refused to bend. His navy shirt hangs open, sleeves rolled to reveal the arms I love tracing, lean from our gym sessions. The TV flickers with a Bollywood romance—lovers drenched in rain, whispering promises—but his eyes are glassy, unfocused. He pours another peg from the whisky bottle, the amber liquid glugging into his glass, swirling as he takes a slow sip, the burn searing his throat, easing my absence. Our home feels too big without me—no clatter of our cooking, no echo of my voice—but the whisky is his companion, warming his chest.

Karuna, one of the twin maids, hasn't left after her chores. She and Aruna, identical in their faded pink salwar kameezes, have cleaned our flat for months, their lives a stark contrast to ours—father a drunk, mother gone, work their only escape at 21. Karuna lingers by the door, mop forgotten, crouching in the corner with knees to her chest, her dark eyes glued to the TV. She's seen us—Parthu and me—stealing kisses, my hands slipping under his shirt, and those moments have stirred a quiet hunger in her. Now, the screen's lovers hold her captive, her breath shallow as they embrace.

"Karuna," Parthu slurs, voice thick, barely glancing over, "done? You can… go." The sofa creaks as he shifts, his glass nearly slipping.

She hugs her knees, cheeks flushing. "Sir… the movie. It's… nice. Can I watch… a bit?" Her words stumble, soft, hesitant, eyes darting to the screen.

He chuckles, the low rumble I adore when he's relaxed. "Sure, don't squat there. Sofa's… better." He pats the cushion, hand lingering before dropping.

Karuna hesitates, biting her lip, feet curling against the tiles. She rises slowly, padding over, perching on the sofa's edge, leaving a wide gap. Her hands clasp tightly, but her body softens, eyes locked on the melodrama.

The silence drags, TV murmurs blending with the AC's hum. Parthu sips again, glass trembling. "Like these… mushy films?" he asks, words slurring.

She nods, ponytail swaying. "Yes, sir… dreamy." Her voice warms, the whisky bottle catching her eye.

A drunken whim strikes. "Call Aruna… downstairs, right? Tell her… watch with us." His grin is lopsided, alcohol blurring his edges.

Karuna's eyes widen, but she fumbles her phone, whispering in Telugu, voice slurred. The door creaks after an eternity, and Aruna slips in—identical salwar, identical shy spark. "Sir?" she mumbles, hovering.

"Come… sit," Parthu says, waving sluggishly. "Join the… fun."

Aruna settles on his other side, mirroring Karuna's distance—Parthu in the middle, twins on either end. The sofa sags, air thickening with their warmth, floral soap mixing with whisky's bite. It feels innocent, three souls dodging the building's emptiness.

Parthu pours another peg, bottle clinking. "Wanna try? Whisky… burns, but… good." His tease is slow, eyes glinting.

The twins whisper, giggles spilling. "Never, sir," Karuna mumbles, but her eyes are curious. Aruna leans closer. "A little… maybe?"

He pours two small glasses, sliding them over. "Sip slow… fire in a glass." They sniff, hesitate, then sip—Karuna coughing, giggling, "Oh god… hot!" Aruna sputters, tears pricking, laughing, "Burns… hehe… more?" Their cheeks flush, whisky hitting hard, bodies loosening.

Two pegs become three, then four, the bottle dwindling. The twins are drunk, heads lolling, giggles slurring. Karuna leans closer, shoulder grazing Parthu's arm, slurring, "Sir… head's spinning… hehe…" Aruna's knee presses his thigh, lingering, her giggle echoing, "Feels… funny… nice." Parthu's pulse thuds, their heat seeping into him, the TV a blur.

Karuna's voice cuts through, teasing. "Sir… miss Archana ma'am? When she's… gone?" She pokes his arm, fingers dragging. "Bet you're… lonely."

Aruna leans in, breath hot. "Seen you… kissing her… touching… thought no one watched." Her confession spills, eyes unfocused. "Looked… nice."

I can almost feel the air shift, their words slicing through me in Warangal. They saw us? My Parthu, his hands on me, lips on my skin—and these girls watched, their shy eyes drinking in our love? My chest tightens, jealousy mixing with a strange, aching curiosity. What are they doing to him now, in our home?

First Kisses & Boldness

Parthu's breath catches, but the whisky turns shock to hunger. Karuna's fingers trace his arm, slow, deliberate, slurring, "This… okay, sir?" Aruna's hand presses his chest, nails digging, whispering, "Feels… so good." Their breaths are ragged, eyes daring him through the drunken haze.

The first kiss is chaos—Parthu turns to Karuna, lips crashing sloppily, tongues tangling as she giggles, "Mmm… tastes like… whisky… haaah." Her moan is soft, breathy, her hands clutching his shirt. He pulls back, head spinning, and Aruna yanks him toward her, kissing harder, teeth nipping, moaning louder, "Nnngh… don't stop… sir…" Their lips collide again, a three-way tangle, tongues sliding wetly, giggles turning to gasps, "Ohhh… so good…" Karuna and Aruna's lips brush, then lock, their sisterly kiss deep, sloppy, whispering, "It's okay… kiss me, sister…" before biting Parthu's neck, soft moans echoing, "Mmm… more…"

I'm frozen in Warangal, imagining their mouths on him, their tongues daring each other. My Parthu, kissing those girls in our flat, their lips where mine should be. Jealousy burns, but there's a heat too, a twisted envy imagining their boldness, their drunken surrender. Did he moan for them like he does for me?

Clothes fall in a drunken mess: Parthu's shirt ripped open, buttons skittering across the tiles; the twins' salwars untied, fabric pooling like spilled wine. Karuna tugs his pants down, hands trembling, his cock springing free—thick, veined, precum glistening. She kneels between his legs, eyes glassy, giggling, "So… big… sir…" Her tongue flicks the tip, slow, tentative, then sucks the head, lips stretching, saliva dripping as she bobs, moaning, "Mmm… tastes… weird… good…" Aruna joins, licking his balls, tongue lapping broadly, slurring, "Salty… haaah… like it…" Her mouth moves up the shaft, meeting Karuna's, their lips brushing as they share him.

They swap—Aruna deep-throating, gagging, "Fuck… too much… nnngh…" her throat constricting as spit drips down her chin. Karuna sucks his balls, giggling, "So soft… mmm…" then licks up to join her sister, their tongues swirling over his cock, kissing with his length between, sharing his taste. "Sister… he's… so hard…" Karuna moans, Aruna echoing, "Yeah… keep sucking… ohhh…" Their mouths work in chaotic sync, spit coating him, moans filling the air, "Haaa… sir… feels good…"

"Open wider… both of you," Parthu growls, hands gripping their hair, pulling roughly. They obey, slurring, "Yes, sir… please… more…" Karuna takes him deeper, choking, "Guhhh… so big…" while Aruna's tongue swirls his balls, moaning, "Mmm… love this…" Their lips meet again, kissing over his cock, tongues tangling, "Sister… taste him… so good…"

I can almost see Karuna's lips wrapped around him, Aruna's tongue on his skin, and my chest aches with fury and hunger. They're tasting my Parthu, their mouths where I've claimed him, their moans echoing in our home. I should hate them, but part of me wants to see their faces, flushed and wild, lost in him.

Parthu's hands guide their heads, slow at first, then rougher, his groans mixing with their gasps. Karuna pulls off, panting, "Haaa… mouth's full…" as Aruna takes over, sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing, "Nnngh… want more…" They alternate, sloppy and uncoordinated, spit dripping onto the sofa, their moans louder, "Ohhh… sir… don't stop…" Their hands roam his thighs, nails digging, leaving faint red marks, their drunken giggles turning to needy whimpers.

Side-by-Side Heat & Pushing Boundaries

Parthu pulls them up, head spinning, and spreads them side-by-side on the sofa, legs splayed wide, pussies exposed—pink, slick, identical, glistening with arousal. He kneels between, diving into Karuna first, tongue lapping her slit from bottom to top, circling her clit with slow flicks, then fast, her hips bucking. She moans, slurred, "Aaahhh… fuck, sir… too good… haaah…" Her hand grabs Aruna's, fingers interlacing tightly, squeezing as Parthu switches, sucking Aruna's clit hard, teeth grazing, her cry louder, "Nnngh… burns… don't stop… please…" He alternates, tongue plunging deep, tasting their mirrored wetness, their moans blending, "Oh god… sister… so good…" Karuna gasps, "He's… licking me… haaah…" Aruna echoes, "Me too… ohhh… want more…"

I'm in Warangal, hands trembling as I light another lamp, but my mind is there, seeing Parthu's tongue between their legs, tasting them where I've tasted him. My heart twists—jealousy like a knife, but there's a heat too, imagining their identical bodies writhing under his mouth, their moans filling our space. Why does it make me ache to watch?

Parthu's tongue flicks faster, alternating, his hands gripping their thighs, spreading them wider. Karuna's hips jerk, "Fuck… sir… gonna… haaah…" as Aruna's legs tremble, "Lick harder… ohhh… please…" Their hands clutch each other, nails digging, their moans a chaotic chorus, "Sister… he's so good…" He sucks Karuna's clit, then Aruna's, back and forth, their juices coating his chin, the air thick with their scent.

He rises, positioning Karuna on her back, legs over his shoulders. He thrusts into her pussy—slow, deep, her walls gripping, wet sounds loud as he bottoms out. "Fuck… so tight…" he grunts, hips rocking. Karuna moans, "Aaahhh… too deep… sir… haaah…" He pulls out slick, entering Aruna immediately, her gasp ragged, "Yesss… harder… sir…" Five thrusts in one, then the other, alternating, their juices mixing on his cock, the twins slurring, "Switch… fuck her now…" Karuna begs, "No… me… please…" Aruna counters.

They lie side-by-side, pussies nearly touching, legs tangled. Parthu kneels between, thrusting into Karuna's pussy, hips slamming, her cries sharp, "Ohhh… too much… don't stop…" then into Aruna, her moans overlapping, "Fuck me… like that… haaah…" They kiss each other, tongues sloppy, hands pinching nipples, fingers dipping into each other's folds, slurring, "Sister… help me cum…" Karuna moans, "Touch me… there… ohhh…" as Aruna's fingers rub her clit, their moans syncing, "Yesss… together…"

My breath catches in Warangal, imagining their pussies side-by-side, Parthu's cock sliding between them, their cries echoing in our flat. I should hate this, but I see their bodies, open and needy, and a dark part of me wants to be there, to feel that chaos, to join their moans.

The anal begins in their drunken peak. Karuna bends over the sofa arm, ass up, Parthu spitting on her hole, pressing in slowly, the tight ring yielding with a pop. She cries, "Ohhh… hurts… but… keep going… sir…" He fucks her ass, deep and rough, hips slapping, her moans turning to screams, "Aaahhh… so full… fuck…" Aruna straddles his face, grinding her pussy on his tongue, juices smearing, slurring, "Lick me… yesss… like that…" They switch—Aruna's ass tighter, her screams louder, "Fuck my ass… harder… ohhh…" as Karuna rides his tongue, clit rubbing his nose, moaning, "Cum for him… sister… haaah…"

Parthu's hands grip Aruna's hips, slamming into her ass, his tongue buried in Karuna's pussy, their cries overlapping, "Ohhh… sir… more…" Karuna's fingers dig into Aruna's shoulder, "Sister… he's… so deep…" Aruna gasps, "Yesss… feels… crazy…" The sofa creaks, their bodies slick with sweat, the air heavy with their mingled scents.

I clutch a lamp in Warangal, my fingers shaking. Parthu's fucking their asses, his mouth on their pussies, and I'm not there. My jealousy burns, but there's a twisted thrill—imagining their tight holes, their screams, the way they beg for him. Why does my body ache for this?

Overflowing Boundaries

The filthiest moment erupts in their drunken haze, boundaries shattered by whisky and lust. The twins, giggling uncontrollably, squat over Parthu on the sofa—Karuna over his chest, Aruna his cock. Aruna slurs, laughing, "Piss on him… do it… hehe…" Karuna's eyes widen, then she giggles, "Oh my god… really? Okay…" Warm streams gush—Karuna's piss splashing his chest, soaking his skin, running down in rivulets, her voice a mix of shock and thrill, "Haaa… I'm pissing… on him… ohhh…" Aruna aims at his face and cock, hot liquid hitting his open mouth, her laughter wild, "Drink it… take it all… Parthu… haaah…"

Parthu moans, gulping the bitter warmth, the depravity fueling him, growling, "You filthy… fucking… sluts…" Piss pools on the sofa, mixing with sweat, dripping onto the floor. He grabs Karuna, fucking her piss-soaked pussy, hips slamming, her cries sharp, "Ohhh… fuck… so dirty… more…" Aruna grinds against his thigh, piss still trickling, moaning, "Yesss… wet… everywhere…" They kiss each other, tongues sloppy, piss dripping from their chins, slurring, "Sister… so bad… so good…"

I'm trembling in Warangal, the lamp flickering in my hand. They're pissing on my Parthu, their streams soaking him, and he's drinking it, moaning like I've never heard. My stomach twists—fury, disgust, but a dark heat too, picturing their fluids mixing, their reckless abandon in our home. I hate it, but I want to see their faces, lost in this filth.

Parthu fucks harder, cock sliding into Aruna's wet pussy, then Karuna's, alternating, piss and juices coating him. Karuna's hands claw his chest, nails leaving red streaks, screaming, "Fuck me… harder… don't stop…" Aruna bites his shoulder, moaning, "Yesss… make me… wetter…" Their bodies slip against each other, slick with fluids, the sofa creaking, the air pungent. They grope his cock together, hands stroking messily, slurring, "So hard… want it… both of us…" Their lips suck bruises on his neck, teeth grazing, "Bite him… sister… mark him…"

The twins grind against his thighs, nails raking, leaving scratches, their moans chaotic, "Ohhh… sir… more… more…" Karuna slaps his chest lightly, giggling, "Bad… sir… so bad…" Aruna's fingers dig into his hair, yanking, "Fuck us… both… now…" The room is a haze of heat, fluids, and cries, their drunken chaos unstoppable.

I'm gripping the lamp so hard it might crack. They're marking him, scratching him, their fluids soaking our sofa. My Parthu, lost in this depravity, their nails and teeth claiming him where I should be. I'm furious, but my body betrays me, pulsing with a twisted need to witness their chaos, to feel that wildness.

Afterglow & Consequences

The climax tears through in waves, raw and shattering. Parthu fucks roughly, alternating pussy and ass—deep in Karuna's ass, her scream ragged, "Cum… now… fuck… haaah!" her body shaking, squirting, wetness spraying his thighs. He pulls out, slamming into Aruna's pussy, her walls spasming, "Yesss… fill me… sir… ohhh…" He thrusts harder, alternating, cock slick with their juices and piss, growling, "Take it… both of you…" Karuna's fingers rub Aruna's clit, "Cum with me… sister… now…" Aruna's moans match, "Ohhh… together… haaah…"

He explodes in Karuna's pussy, cum flooding, her cry piercing, "Fuck… so much… inside…" then pulls out, coating Aruna's ass with ropes, her scream echoing, "Yesss… all over… haaah…" They cum again on his fingers, his tongue, bodies arching, cries incoherent, "Aaahhh… fuck… cumming… again…" Karuna squirts once more, soaking his hand, "Ohhh… can't stop…" Aruna's ass clenches, "More… please… haaah…" Wetness, sweat, piss, cum pool in a chaotic mess, the sofa drenched, the air thick.

I'm in Warangal, my heart pounding, imagining Parthu's cum filling them, their bodies shaking under him, their cries echoing in our flat. I should be there, feeling him, not them. My jealousy is a fire, but there's a dark thrill too, picturing their orgasms, their fluids mixing with his, marking our home in a way I never could.

The whisky bottle lies empty, clothes strewn like wreckage, the sofa a ruin—sticky, pungent, soaked in sweat, piss, cum. They collapse, sweaty, bruised, giggling in exhaustion. Karuna slurs, "Can't… believe we did that… haaah…" her head lolling on Parthu's chest. Aruna sighs, "So… dirty… so good…" her fingers tracing a bruise on his neck. Their bodies tangle, slick and spent, the silence returning, heavy with their secret.

Parthu's chest heaves, his mind a blur of arousal and guilt. He murmurs, "Fuck… what… did we do…" but his voice is thick, sated. The twins giggle, Karuna whispering, "Sir… again… sometime?" Aruna nods, "Yeah… so bad… so fun…" Their hands linger on him, soft now, the chaos fading to drunken sighs.

I'm here in Warangal, the festival lights dimming, my hands shaking as I set down the lamp. I thought Parthu was lonely, pining for me, but he was drowning in depravity, fucking those twins into oblivion, their fluids staining our home. The sofa we curled up on, the space we made ours—now it's theirs, marked by their chaos. I'm bitter, furious, but a twisted part of me burns, imagining their wildness, their moans, their bodies tangled with his. I hate them for taking him, but I envy their abandon, their reckless surrender in our flat. This night changed everything, and I'll never see our home the same way again.