My brother wanted to fuck me! More than that, as I looked at those pictures, I wanted it to happen. I wanted my brother to fuck me! As I looked at the pictures in the magazine, and read the story in the magazine my hand slipped into my pajama and fingers danced over my clit and plunged into my sopping wet cunt. Now, I knew why sex with Kiran never really satisfied me. I wanted my brother. And, if this magazine meant what I thought, it meant, Manu Bhaiya wanted to fuck me and become a sister fucker, a behnchod as he swore in Hindi. That evening, when Manu Bhaiya got home, I was in the kitchen, wearing loose cotton pajama and a thin revealing T-shirt with no bra and no panties as I prepared the food. And Didi is the food ready? I am hungry and he said. It was raining, and his clothes were all wet and dripping water. And Manu Bhaiya and I said as I entered into his hug. His arms closed around me making my thin T-shirt wet and my nipples visible as my boobs pressed into his broad chest.. Now being closer to the rear of the store, out of range of the sounds of the slushie machine and the videogames, I can hear mumbling from the rear wall. Maybe someone robbed the place, tied him up and hid him under the desk. I waltz over to take a look. Nothing. While the sound is muffled, it is slightly louder. I look up and see an air vent. Next room maybe? I leave the office, returning the door to its original position, and proceed further down the dimly lit hall. The next door must be the staff washroom. It has the washroom decal on the door, but a little sign taped to the door says, ‘Employees only, patrons may ask for outside latrine key at counter.’ I try to open the door, but it is locked. However, the mumbling is louder, the voice is obviously gagged, but not very well. ‘Helb be! I’b stug ad I gan’d ged oud.’ A key slides out from under the door, coming to rest against my shoe. I unlock the door and slowly open it to find a tiny, well-lit bathroom with a toilet directly.
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