Revised Version
Foreword to revised version
There was a longstanding demand from my avid readers to conclude the tale of the two siblings. I apologize to them all as it took me too long (it might seem ages to them and they might have lost the hope) to finish the task. Finally, there demand has been realized. The story is completed; it has eight chapters divided in five parts of nearly equal length and all have been published at Literotica site under the category of Incest/Taboo.
As the story progressed, I realized that the first two chapters (Part I) needed revision, which I undertook by bringing about minor changes. But then I was confronted with a major issue. You remember, the lead female character was called Mehvish. The problem was that the name 'Mehvish' did not blend at all with the character of her family that had been evolved during the course of writing. I gave it a deep thought, as it would be a significant change, and try not to alter it but the renaming seemed most appropriate and inevitable. Now, therefore, our heroine is known as Anjali (nicknamed Anji) and not as Mehvish or Mena. I regret any inconvenience I might have caused to my readers in this regard.
Generally the bilingual feature of the conversation was appreciated except for one remark against it. I, therefore, am keeping the feature, nevertheless, have tried to make it more comprehensible to non-Urdu or Hindi readers. The translation of Urdu/Hindi dialogues, which are written in italics as before, has been capitalized. So, ignore the italic words and read only the normal and/or capital letters and you, being a non-Urdu/Hindi reader, will miss nothing.
I once again thank my all the readers who have commented on or wrote to me. Your encouragement and motivation was indeed a source of inspiration to me and the sole reason for the completion of this work. I still need your remarks and evaluation without which this tale will remain incomplete.
Enjoy the narrative—SE.
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Background:
This story is a work of fiction, staged somewhere in Pakistan. Urdu is widely spoken language in Pakistan and is almost identical to Hindi spoken in India except the script. English is yet another language largely used in the Subcontinent. In middle and upper classes, usually either English is spoken or a lot of English words and phrases are used during the conversation in the local languages. I've used the same practice in the dialogues for realism. Nevertheless, for the non-Urdu speakers, every Urdu phrase or sentence is immediately followed by an English translation. Therefore, if you are alien to Urdu/Hindi just skip the italic (and read Capital) words, and sure, you will miss nothing.
1
Life is strange, so strange! It sometimes exposes us to such unexpected and weird realm of affairs that a fairytale looked more believable. The incidents encountered compel us, against our wishes of course, to helplessly turn into a centre player of events one would never thought be ever a possibility. Likewise, my life also banks an account of such an incredible happening that had transformed my entire way of life; not only mine but my sister's as well.
We lived on a normal course before the life took a sharp turn. Years down the line I still sometimes wonder if it was righteous for me to lead a life I was enjoying now. But at the same time I have no remorse for the living pattern I had adopted rather I am contented as I had no influence over the chain of events that had introduced me to a completely novel, no matter how forbidden but so beautiful, melody of love.
My father was a well-off businessman and mother was a gynaecologist. My both parents were good looking and charming. They were very liberal and broadminded, and had pleasant personalities. They, therefore, had a big social circle of friends. They had two children: Anjali and I. Anjali, nicknamed Anji, was couple of years younger than I. Our family's elders and betters were not alive, anyway. My father was the only son of his parents but my mother had two younger sisters as well. They too were as appealing as my mother was. The youngest was married and resided in Karachi with her husband. The middle one lived in Memphis, Tennessee and was unmarried. She proceeded to the USA for higher studies and decided not to come back to Pakistan. Though she was too far away from us, she was the favourite of my mother and was very close to all of us. She used to come to Pakistan on and off, and we, on the other hand, had visited her a few times.
Anyway, that was my family and we were leading a happy-go-lucky life. I was twenty when misfortune hit our family. We lost our both parents in a plane crash. That was a big below for all of us especially for my sister and I.
As we both were too young, our
khalas
, aunts, were pretty worried about us. Our eldest
khala
, Nina, who flew in from Memphis, Tennessee, thought we might pack and go along with her to the US. But as I mentioned previously that my father had an established business here and I could not abandoned it just like that. I discussed it with Anjali, my sweet little sister, and decided to face the music and take the responsibilities destiny had put on our feeble shoulders; hence, we took over our father's office. My youngest
khala
, Manju's, husband and Aunt Nina helped us to resolve and streamline the business matters. Since both of us, Anjali and I, were still attending college, we decided to appoint a CEO for the company to handle the business affairs until the time I am through with the studies and ready to take over the responsibilities.
Slowly and gradually, matters settled down as well as our grief subdued and we unobtrusively returned to normalized life. I felt that Anjali was turning into a very carefree and free-spirited soul. She, like our parents, had lot of friends and was having ball of time. She was not much concerned about her studies, which worried me but since I was her only family left, I did not want to push her much. (Mind you, that why kids gets spoiled!) I did not mean that she got disinterested altogether in her studies but was not giving it enough time as she was doing before the demise of our parents. Nevertheless, at the same time, she took a great care of me and we both became much closer to each other than ever before.
As we gradually overcame our distress, we one day decided to sort our parents' stuff, which was not touched so far. It was a holiday and we got down to rearranging our parents' room. Clearing the wardrobes, Anjali suddenly discovered a secret ledge beneath a closet. Anjali called me and showed it. I locked the door so that the servants in the house might not see it. We found jewels and other valuables along with some documents. I took out the documents and went through them; they were business related papers, so I decided to examine in leisure. In the meanwhile, Anjali pulled out a hardtop box. It was locked. We wondered what could be in there and did not know where to find the key. I, therefore, broke the lock. There were a few photo albums, some loose pictures and a few videos.
We each looked in astonishment at other.
"What are these albums?" Anjali murmured.
I took out one and opened it. There was a picture of our parents standing together with hands on each other's shoulders. But what really shook us was that our mom was clad a bikini and father was only in shorts. Well shorts were all right but we had never seen mom so scarcely dressed. In the next page, Aunt Nina had replaced our mother. She too was in bikini, with their arms around other's backs. As I flipped the page, we both jumped out of our tracks. Mom and Aunt Nina were standing together topless. Mind you topless! Holy Cripes! What was that? We stared each other in awe. The next photograph was even more mind-blogging. It was our dad alone in a room, stark naked with a hard-on.
"Oh mere Khudaiya!
OH MY GOD!" exclaimed Anjali, clapping her mouth.
My father had a real long dick, not less than seven inches, I believe. And not only that, it was thick like a pig. Good Heavens! How identical was his cock to mine.
