The bell rang. I hauled my books home through our dusty Indore town. An odd restlessness prickled my skin. Maybe the heat. Maybe hoping for mischief with Didi, my older sister Jenny.

Our front door was slightly ajar. As usual. Heading to dump my bag, a sound from Didi’s room stopped me—not familiar. Whispers. Soft moans. My heart hammered. Curiosity dragged me to her window.

The curtain was parted. The sight unfolded: Rocky, our neighbor, on top of her. Didi’s breaths were ragged, her lips parted, releasing drunk, intoxicating sounds.

“Ummhhh… harder Rocky… yes… just like that…” Her voice vibrated in my ears. Her face was flushed, eyes shut, lost. Rocky’s body glistened with sweat, his back muscles straining. I stood frozen, breath caught. This felt like a dream I never wanted to wake from.

“You’re so good, Jenny… your tits… ahhh…” Rocky’s voice was thick, each word winding her tighter.

“Just… deeper… all of it… ahhhh… fuck me to death…” Didi arched her back, taking him deeper inside her. Her moans became sharp cries—not of pain, but ultimate pleasure. The wet, slick sounds of her pussy echoed. Rocky’s dick pistoned in and out, her body trembling with each thrust. His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back to mark her neck. Her legs were locked around his waist like a vise.

I watched, my body numb. A hard-on strained my pants. This was my Didi. And