Indian Kama stura Style Sex Story – My name’s Arjun, a 22-year-old college dropout from Ahmedabad, living with my older brother, Rohit, and his wife, Priya Bhabhi. I’m lean but fit, with messy hair and a cock that’s eager to learn. Rohit’s 28, a busy software engineer often away on trips, leaving me with Priya Bhabhi, who’s 26 and a total sex goddess—long wavy hair, dusky skin, big juicy breasts that stretch her sarees, a curvy ass that sways like a dream, and eyes that promise sin. I’d jerk off thinking about her, imagining her pussy, but never dared act—until April 15, 2025, when she taught me the art of fucking in Indian Kamasutra style, turning me into her hardcore lover.
Rohit left for a week-long project in Bangalore that morning, kissing Priya goodbye as I watched from the kitchen. She wore a sheer blue saree, her blouse tight, cleavage spilling out, her ass outlined as she waved him off. “Just us now, Arjun,” she said, turning to me with a sly smile. My cock twitched—I’d caught her staring at me shirtless before, her lips parting slightly. “Yeah, Bhabhi, looks like it,” I replied, my voice rough. She laughed, brushing past me, her breasts grazing my arm, sending a jolt to my groin.
That evening, the house was quiet—ceiling fan whirring, faint Bollywood music from her room. I was on the couch, scrolling my phone, wearing a vest and shorts, when she called, “Arjun, come help me with something!” I found her in her bedroom, saree loosened, sitting cross-legged on the bed with a book—the Kamasutra, its pages open to vivid sketches of fucking. “Bhabhi, what’s this?” I stammered, my cock hardening. She smirked, “Time you learned something useful. Rohit’s too boring in bed. I’ll teach you Indian Kamasutra style sex.”
My jaw dropped, but she patted the bed. “Sit, devarji. Let’s start.” I obeyed, heart pounding as she tossed the saree aside—her blouse and petticoat barely hiding her curves. “First lesson—‘The Lotus,’” she purred, pulling me close. She straddled me, legs wrapping around my waist, her big breasts pressing my chest. I ripped my vest off, kissing her—deep, hungry, tasting her sweet tongue. “Fuck, Bhabhi, you’re so hot,” I groaned, hands grabbing her breasts through the blouse. She moaned, “Unhook it, Arjun, feel me.”
I tore her blouse open—big, round breasts spilled out, no bra, nipples dark and stiff. “Shit, Bhabhi, these tits are perfect,” I growled, sucking one hard, biting it, while my hand kneaded the other. “Ahh, devarji, suck my breasts like that!” she cried, grinding her pussy against my bulge. She yanked my shorts down—my cock sprang free, thick, 7 inches, throbbing. “Fuck, Arjun, your cock’s a beast,” she gasped, stroking it, her fingers expert from Kamasutra know-how.
She shed her petticoat and panties—her pussy shaved, wet, glistening like a lotus petal. “Lotus position—sit up, legs crossed,” she ordered, Kamasutra-style. I did, and she lowered herself onto my cock, her pussy swallowing me inch by inch. “Ohh, fuck, Bhabhi, you’re tight!” I groaned as she rode me, slow and deep, her breasts bouncing in my face. “Feel it, Arjun, this is intimacy,” she moaned, rocking her hips, my cock hitting her core. I sucked her nipples, thrusting up— “Fuck me, Bhabhi, teach me more!”
Next, she whispered, “‘The Cow’—doggy Kamasutra style.” She got on all fours, ass up—round, tight, a perfect Indian curve. “Look at this ass,” I growled, spanking it hard—red marks blooming. “Fuck my pussy first, devarji,” she begged. I knelt behind, slamming my cock into her pussy—deep, brutal, the bed shaking. “Ahh, Arjun, fuck me harder!” she screamed, her breasts swaying, ass jiggling with every thrust. I pounded her, hands gripping her hips— “Take it, Bhabhi, you’re my Kamasutra queen!”
She flipped over, legs wide— “‘The Splitting Bamboo,’” she panted, one leg over my shoulder, the other flat. I thrust in, her pussy angled tight, hitting deep spots. “Ohh, fuck, Bhabhi, this is wild!” I groaned, fucking her slow then fast, her big breasts bouncing, her moans Bollywood-loud— “Yes, Arjun, split my pussy!” I sucked her toes, Kamasutra-inspired, driving her crazy—her pussy clenched, juices dripping.
“‘The Tigress’ next,” she growled, pushing me down, mounting me reverse—her ass facing me, pussy sliding onto my cock. She rode me hard, ass bouncing, breasts swaying out of sight. “Fuck, Bhabhi, your ass is heaven!” I grunted, spanking her, thrusting up. “Ride me, devarji, feel the power,” she moaned, her pussy gripping me like a vice. I grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them— “Fuck me, Priya, I’m your student!”
Hours flew—Kamasutra positions blurring into a hardcore fuck-fest. ‘The Swing’—her sitting on the dresser, legs around me, my cock pounding her pussy as mirrors reflected her bouncing breasts. “Ahh, Arjun, fuck me here!” she screamed, clawing my back. ‘The Plough’—her on the bed’s edge, legs up, me standing, fucking her pussy deep— “Ohh, devarji, plow me!” she cried, her ass shaking. ‘The Monkey’—me lying back, her squatting over, pussy sliding down my cock— “Fuck, Bhabhi, you’re a goddess!” I groaned, hands on her big breasts.
The room smelled of sex—sweat, her perfume, my musk. She came first— ‘The Lotus’ again, her pussy pulsing, squirting as she screamed, “Ohh, Arjun, I’m cumming!” I fucked her through it, relentless, then growled, “Where do you want my cum, Bhabhi?” “Everywhere—my pussy, my ass, my tits!” she gasped, Kamasutra-wild. I pulled out, erupting—cum flooding her pussy, then her ass cheeks, finally spraying her big breasts, rubbing it into her nipples. We collapsed, panting, her cum-soaked body pressed to mine.
Next morning, she woke me with a kiss— “More lessons, devarji?” Naked, she straddled me, guiding my cock into her pussy—slow, sensual ‘The Lotus’ to start the day. “Fuck, Bhabhi, you’re the best teacher,” I moaned, sucking her breasts. Rohit’s trip stretched—five days of Kamasutra sex. Kitchen fucks—her bent over the counter, saree hiked, pussy pounded. Bathroom—shower sex, ‘The Plough’ against tiles, her ass taking my cock. Terrace— ‘The Tigress’ under stars, her screams muffled by wind.
Now, with Rohit back, we steal moments—quickies in the store room, her pussy on my cock, Kamasutra silent-style. “You’re my Kamasutra king, Arjun,” she whispers after every fuck. “And you’re my queen, Bhabhi,” I reply, hooked on her Indian sex lessons forever.