My Sister's Boyfriend has a new toy - Me !
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I shouldn’t have done it. Good girls don’t leave their panties behind for their sister’s boyfriend. They don’t sneak into the next stall just to be touched in the dark. But when his fingers found me — slow, teasing, like he already knew I’d be soaking — I couldn’t hold back.
He didn’t even give me his cock.
Just his control. And I came like a slut anyway.Series
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It was supposed to be a normal movie at the theatre. Just me, my sister, and her perfect boyfriend. But when she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder... well, let’s just say I got the kind of attention I’d only dreamed about. His fingers didn’t stop at teasing. And by the time the credits rolled, my mouth wasn’t empty.
She asked why my breath smelled funny.
I just smiled.Series
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My mom's voice pierced through my ears.
“Take care of your sister, okay?” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Boys like that… they can turn your whole world upside down.”
Too late, I thought.
And then she smiled and said:
“You’re such a good girl. You always make me proud.”
I smiled back, but something inside me twisted.
Because in that moment, all I could feel was the heat of Faizan’s touch still lingering under my clothes, the weight of the secret buzzing quietly between my legs, the mess on my skin she didn’t—and could never—see.
Good girl.
The words echoed.
And burned.
Because her good girl was choking and slobbering all over his cock a few moments ago, dripping with his cum, filled, used, ruined in a way no mother could ever imagine.
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Chapter 6 : How to Ruin a Slut in Front of a Crowd by cherryviper
Fandoms: Original Work
08 Aug 2025
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“Attention, my freaky friends,” Faizan called out.
The chatter dipped, just enough to hear him.
“The party’s going lovely tonight. But I think some of you...” — he tugged me forward, his hand curling possessively around mine — “are feeling very naughty.”
“So why don’t we turn it up a bit, huh?” he said, flashing that crooked, lazy smile. “Something a little… dangerous.”
The crowd leaned in, intrigued. Curious. Buzzed enough to be bold.
“Your job,” Faizan said with a grin, “is to make her orgasm. Not just a whimper. I’m talking the real thing — trembling thighs, eyes rolled back, can’t-stand-up-after kind of loss.”
Laughter. Gasps. Cheers.
“And her job,” he added, turning to me with a wicked look, “is to resist.”
There were whistles now. More drinks being poured. Masks tilting up just enough to flash hungry smiles.
“The winner,” he declared, voice rising again, “gets a very special prize.”
He looked at me, slow and deliberate, then turned back to the crowd.
“Her.”
The room erupted.Series
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