3rd part of story: Making love with my cousin brother. cousins Our Forbidden Bliss

Months had slipped by since that wild weekend when Bilal and I claimed the house as our own, our bodies entwined in a dance of taboo passion that left us both addicted. At 19, I was blossoming under his gaze, my chubby curves—my 34C breasts, soft waist, and round ass—worshipped like sacred treasures. He was 24, his lean frame hardening from long days at the auto shop, and our cousin bond had twisted into something deeper, more intoxicating: a forbidden romance that made every stolen touch feel like a sin worth committing. We were lovers in secret, navigating the conservative shadows of our Pakistani family, where even whispers of such things could shatter lives. But in the quiet of our shared room, we were unstoppable—horny, devoted, and utterly consumed by each other.