"You mustn't move," their father's voice echoes in their minds, but it's a futile command as their bodies betray them. The girls, haunted by religious guilt, clutch at their stepbrother's virgin cocks, their fingers tracing the hard lines of the shafts. They're soon enveloped in their own wetness, the innate lubrication soaking the penises as they slowly sink down, rubbing their tight, untouched vaginas along the hard cocks. Their bodies move in a rhythm as old as time, falling back into an all-out aghori sex, only to collapse into post-coital remorse and shame amidst smeared juices and spent fluids, praying for absolution from their taboo lust sins.