Dear Adil Your Sister Needs You

I am Adil -- a boy from Bombay.

I'm just 20 years old, and I've been working as a bike mechanic to keep my life moving forward. I was never too interested in studies.

I have two elder sisters -- both completed their graduation through a government scheme without paying any fees, But my parents got them married off to guys like us -- mechanics.

Anyway, my elder brother-in-law -- Ashraf bhai -- is now a mechanic in Dubai, so Dilshad Aapa lives in a flat in Mumbra.

The garage where I work is owned by Santaji Bhau. He owns 15 autos and 4 tempos.

These days, I handle almost all the work at the garage. My salary is going to increase soon too. My parents, my younger brother Parvez, and my little sister Saima -- we all live in an old chawl.

Yes, it's tough, but that's our real world.

One day, a call came from my brother-in-law in Dubai.

He said --

"Dilshad Aapa is pregnant... and she gets lonely at home. I'm going back to Dubai for 3--4 months... why don't you go be with her sometimes? You sleep well in AC anyway."

Alright, let me introduce my family again:

Ammi and Abbu

→ Elder sister: Dilshad Aapa

→ second sister: Jabin Aapa

→ Me: Adil

→ Then there's Parvez and Saima -- twins, but their faces are totally different.

Right now, both of them are about to turn 18.

Until then, they help out at Abbu's kebab stall.

Saima actually enjoys the work a lot.

Parvez works as a cleaner, but the rest of the time he's glued to PUBG.

Jabin Aapa works at a beauty parlour -- she does makeup, very stylish much like malaika arora.

But my favourite is Dilshad Aapa -- she's a natural beauty just like sonakshi.

And she's also the richest one in the family.

Now I'm going to her place.

Dilshad Aapa and Saima both take after Ammi -- fair-skinned, long hair.

And me, Parvez, and Jabin Aapa -- we look like Abbu. Dusky, but fit and handsome!

I'm going to meet Dilshad Aapa after 3 years.

Since childhood, she's loved me the most.

Whenever I needed money for a school tie or anything, she never said no.

This is the first time we're meeting after COVID.

Adil reached the 9th floor.

His heart was racing -- part nervous, part excited.

He was about to congratulate Dilshad Aapa on her good news.

She was expecting... and yet, somehow, all he could think about was how it would feel to see her again. Up close.

As the lift door slid open, he adjusted his collar.

He rang the bell.

And then --

The door opened... and it felt like heaven had cracked open just for a second.

There she stood.

In a silky pink gown, soft fabric clinging gently to her curves.

Her face -- glowing, full, round with radiance.

A hint of fatigue in her eyes, but that smile... that same old smile that used to calm his storms.

"abhi yaad aai? Pagal hai kya tu?" she teased softly, and without another word, pulled him into a hug.

The scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin -- it all came rushing back.

He wrapped his arms around her, instinctively -- maybe too tightly, maybe not enough.

And for a moment, they just stood there. Holding her waist.

No words. Just heartbeats.

Then -- like tradition -- she bit his cheek playfully, just like she used to when he came home exhausted from school.

"Didn't you miss your Aapa?" she whispered.

Her voice carried something extra now. Something... thicker.

Adil smiled faintly, barely able to meet her eyes.

"I do... I do every day, Aapa."

But it wasn't just the same anymore.

That familiar nibble on the cheek --

after three years --

felt different.

Not just affectionate... but strangely electric.

His hands had rested a bit lower than usual during that hug.

As they pulled back slightly, his palm brushed... opps appas bum.

Soft. Unexpected.

She tensed for half a second.

Then grinned.

"Badla le raha hai, kya?" she teased.

And before he could reply, her teeth were on his cheek again -- playful, but firmer.

He chuckled nervously, unsure if this was a boundary or an invitation.

He dared a pinch.

Not the usual one.

Lower bum bit Bolder. Dangerous.

She gasped -- half pain, half surprise -- and smacked his arm.

"Hai Allah, Adil!"

But she was laughing.

And she hadn't moved away.

She didn't say anything.

Instead, she leaned in and bit my other cheek -- slow, lingering.

"I'll eat you up one day..." she whispered, her voice low and electric.

Something buzzed through me -- a current straight to the core.

Below my waist, my hot rod stirred without warning.

I gasped, tried to stay still, but my hands had a mind of their own.

I let them drift down to her curves, bold now, fingers exploring the softness I wasn't supposed to touch.

"I'll eat you too," I murmured back, lips brushing dangerously close to her neck.

When I leaned in further, grazing her mouth with a playful nibble --

She suddenly stepped back, maybe startled.

Maybe... because something had pressed against her belly.

She paused. Looked down.

Then back up at me.

Something shifted in her expression -- surprise, maybe hunger.

For a second, she looked like a film heroine caught in her own forbidden fantasy.

She didn't scold me.

She didn't smile either.

Instead, she whispered -- avoiding eye contact --

"Go freshen up. I'm in the kitchen."

And just like that, she turned, hips moving slow, deliberate, and purposeful.

The pressure in my chest -- and in my pants -- refused to ease.

A few seconds later, I heard the whistle of the cooker.

From the kitchen, her voice floated out -- casual but warm.

"I'm making your favorite... paya soup. With biryani."

INT. BATHROOM -- NIGHT

As soon as Adil stepped into the bathroom, the steam from the earlier shower still lingered in the air. He peeled off his clothes, heading toward the shower when something caught his eye -- a delicate red bra and a pair of black panties drying on the side.

They weren't just undergarments. They were hers, my dil appas.

The colors -- bold, unapologetic. The shape -- unmistakably hers.

A wave of heat surged through him, primal and immediate. Memories of her silhouette, the way she carried herself -- confident, effortlessly seductive -- all came flooding in.

He reached out, almost unconsciously, fingertips brushing the edge of the fabric. The scent--soft, floral, intimate--pulled him deeper into the moment. The tension inside him was unbearable.

Suddenly--appa

(calling out)

"Adil? Kya shower ka paani band hai? Awaaz nahi aa rahi."

The spell broke. Adil blinked, reality snapping back.

He turned the shower on -- water gushed down, cooling his fire just enough. But inside, he was still burning.

INT. DINING ROOM -- LATER THAT NIGHT

The night stretched on with conversation and laughter.

Biryani, paya soup, and stories from college days... their words flowing freely, their eyes stealing glances.

At one point, silence. A moment too long. Eyes lingering. Memories unfolding between them.

DILSHAD

(softly yawning)

"Main bedroom jaa rahi hoon. Neend aa rahi hai... Tu jab free ho jaa, neeche ka bistara ready hai."

She walked away slowly, her presence still echoing in the room.

Adil nodded silently, but his mind -- it was still in the past hour, still with her.

Even as he scrolled through his phone, pretending to chat with someone else, it was Dilshad's voice, her smile, her nearness that filled the room.

The clock struck one.

Silence. Just the soft hum of the AC... and thoughts he couldn't silence.

INT. BEDROOM -- NIGHT

The AC's cold hum swept gently through the room, mixing with the lingering scent of biryani and rose-scented body mist. The house was silent, but Adil's heart wasn't.

He stood quietly at the door, half-shut, just watching her.

Dilshad had fallen asleep sideways on the bed, her satin maxi curled around her thighs, loosely clinging to her skin. The fabric had ridden up just enough to reveal the smooth curve of her upper legs -- toned, glowing faintly in the night light. With every slow, sleepy breath, her body shifted gently -- unaware, but devastating.

Adil's throat went dry. A deep, primal pull tightened in his chest.

He had seen her changing countless times before, but today she was looking curvier more hot, raw. Soft. Real.

His eyes wandered down.

A glimpse of blue lace -- her panties -- peeking from beneath the hem of her nightdress. Gold floral embroidery. He swallowed hard, his senses on fire. His imagination whispered a hundred forbidden thoughts at once.

She moved again. One leg stretched slightly upward, her hips arching, unintentionally offering a fuller view -- just enough to send a jolt of heat down Adil's spine.

Her adu was losing control. His track pants tightened -- painfully. He could feel himself harden, a pulsing ache building with every second.

Still watching, he reached down, fingers brushing over himself as he imagined the feel of her skin against his. The softness. The warmth. The way she might breathe if she woke to his touch -- not startled, but curious. Willing.

But he didn't dare touch her.

He just stood there, stroking himself slowly, caught between restraint and desire. His gaze locked on the dip of her waist, the gentle rise of her hip under that dangerously short fabric.

Then -- a sudden movement.

She shifted again, murmuring something in sleep, pulling her leg in and rolling over. Her panty's elastic stretched briefly, revealing a glimpse -- smooth, bare pussy.

Adil gasped softly. His control snapped. His release came fast, sudden -- hot against her skin and panty, messy and breathless. He stumbled back, biting his lip to stifle a moan. His heart pounded like a war drum.

In the silence, only the hiss of the AC remained.

Wiping himself quickly, he glanced once more toward her. She was still asleep, undisturbed -- a peaceful storm.

He turned, retreated into the living room, collapsed onto the spare mattress.

His mind was still with her.

His shame and desire tangled into something he didn't yet understand.

Would she notice?

Would she know what he did in the shadows of her sleep?