I couldn’t believe how fucking hot my sister is. She’s absolutely stunning—long toned legs, smooth golden skin that glows, a tiny waist that curves out into the most perfect plump heart-shaped ass, and full perky tits that bounce teasingly with every move. Her face is pure sex: big sparkling eyes, soft pouty lips, and that sweet flirty smile she gives me that makes my cock twitch instantly. She knows she’s gorgeous, and the way she carries herself in those tiny outfits drives me wild with perverted thoughts.I waited until she stepped out of the shower and left the bathroom, then slipped inside like the depraved brother I am. The moment the door clicked shut, I spotted her old crusted thong crumpled on the wet tile floor, the crotch panel still molded perfectly into the shape of her juicy cunt. Thick, pearly-white creamy discharge had dried into glossy streaks and flaky patches, tracing every soft fold and puffy lip, with a deeper sticky spot right where her clit had rubbed all day. The fabric held the exact imprint of her pretty pussy like a filthy cast of her wetness.My cock was already throbbing hard. I snatched up the thong and shoved the crusted crotch straight into my face, burying my nose deep in the molded shape. I inhaled greedily, letting that warm, sweet, tangy scent of her wet cunt flood my lungs—rich feminine musk mixed with creamy girl-juice. “Fuck yes… smell your hot sister’s pretty pussy,” I groaned, dragging my tongue slowly across the dried crust, tasting the faint salty-sweet flavor while picturing her perfect body spread open for me.The scent was so intoxicating that I couldn’t stop there. I pulled my aching cock out and started stroking furiously while keeping the thong pressed to my face. It only took a minute before I was panting, balls tightening. I aimed the head of my dick right at her toothbrush sitting on the counter and blew a thick, heavy load all over the bristles—ropes of warm cum splattering and coating them completely, mixing with the leftover toothpaste. Some even dripped down the handle. I milked out every drop, making sure her toothbrush was thoroughly creamed with my load.Heart pounding with how fucked up this was, I quickly wiped the excess off my hand, stuffed the thong back onto the floor exactly where I found it, and slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Her cunt stench was still thick and warm in my nose, clinging to my face like a dirty secret.The second I stepped into the hallway, I bumped straight into her.She was standing right there, fresh from the shower, drying her long wet hair with a towel. She wore nothing but a tiny pair of tight booty shorts that rode high on her smooth thighs and barely covered the bottom curve of her perfect ass. Her perky tits jiggled under a loose tank top, nipples faintly visible through the thin fabric. She looked so fucking sexy and casual.She smiled at me with that sweet, everyday sisterly smile, still rubbing the towel through her hair. “Hey bro,” she said in her normal, cheerful voice, exactly like she always talks to me. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”Her big sparkling eyes locked on mine while the heavy stench of her own crusted cunt was still burning deep in my nose, mixing with the memory of my cum on her toothbrush. I could still taste her dried pussy cream on my lips from licking the thong.“Yeah… I’m good,” I mumbled, trying not to stare at how those tiny booty shorts hugged her plump pussy mound.She tilted her head cutely, still smiling. “What’s for dinner tonight? I’m starving.” Her voice stayed so sweet and normal, completely unaware (or pretending to be) while my face reeked of her wet cunt and her toothbrush sat there covered in my fresh load mixed with her own dried discharge.Before I could answer, she gave me a little wave and headed back toward the bathroom. “I’ll be quick—I just need to brush my teeth before bed.”I froze in the hallway, cock still half-hard, as she disappeared inside and closed the door. A minute later I heard the faucet running, then the soft brushing sounds. She was brushing her teeth with my cum smeared all over the bristles, probably tasting the salty mix blended with whatever was left of her own crusted pussy juice from the thong I’d rubbed on it earlier. The thought made my stomach twist with perverted shame and lust.A few minutes later she came out, lips shiny, still in those tiny booty shorts and tank top. She walked right up to me, smiling brightly as she flipped her now-dry hair over her shoulder. “Goodnight, bro,” she said in that same sweet, casual voice, leaning in just a little so her perky tits brushed close. “Sleep well. See you in the morning.”
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I still replay that New Year's Eve in my head sometimes, the way everything shifted from playful to something heavier, slower, more dangerous.Michele and I had claimed our usual high-top near the dance floor at that downtown lounge—low lights, slow jazz, the kind of place where the air itself feels thick with anticipation. She was wearing that black dress again, the one that looked poured over her body: tight enough to show every curve, low-cut enough to draw eyes like gravity, thin spaghetti straps that kept slipping just a fraction with every movement. Her skin glowed under the warm bulbs, and when she laughed at something I said, the neckline dipped and rose in a way that made my throat go dry.We'd already had a couple of drinks, trading lazy kisses and stupid resolutions for the new year. Our glasses were empty again."I'll get the next round," she said, sliding out of the booth. She leaned over the table, gave me a slow, teasing kiss—tongue just brushing mine—then whispered against my lips, "Be good while I'm gone."I watched her cross the room. The dress moved with her like it was alive, hugging her ass, swaying with her hips. A few heads turned. Mine stayed locked on her.She reached the bar, leaned in to order, hair falling forward over one shoulder. That's when he stepped up beside her. Dark suit, easy smile, the kind of guy who knows exactly how tall he is and how to use it. He said something; she laughed—that bright, unguarded sound I usually get credit for. My stomach gave a small, familiar twist. Nothing new. Michele flirted like it was small talk.He kept talking. She kept smiling. Then he nodded toward the dance floor, palm open in invitation. She glanced back at me across the room. Our eyes met. She gave me that little half-smile, the one that says "this is harmless, right?" I lifted my chin in a go-ahead nod, smirking like it was no big deal.She didn't come back with drinks.Instead she let him take her hand and lead her out onto the floor just as the band eased into another slow number—saxophone dragging the tempo down to a pulse.At first it was innocent enough. His hands settled on her hips, fingers resting lightly over the black fabric. Hers draped loosely around his neck. They swayed together, bodies close but not pressed, moving in that easy rhythm couples fall into when they're testing boundaries.But the song stretched, and so did the space between them.His hands slid lower. Not suddenly—just a slow, deliberate drift until his palms cupped the full curve of her ass through the dress. He pulled her in gently but firmly, closing the last few inches until her breasts pressed against his chest. She didn't resist. If anything, her body softened into his, hips rolling with his in perfect sync.One of his hands stayed low, kneading her ass with slow, possessive circles while the other climbed her back—fingers tracing the bare skin above the dress's low back, then slipping under one spaghetti strap. He hooked it with a fingertip and eased it down her shoulder, just enough to bare more skin. She tilted her head back slightly, exposing the long line of her throat. He took the invitation—lowered his mouth to the side of her neck, lips brushing, then pressing open-mouthed kisses along her pulse.Her fingers tightened in the back of his hair. She arched a little, pressing herself tighter against him. I could see the way her thighs brushed his with each slow grind, the way her dress rode up an inch or two on her legs as she moved. His hand on her ass squeezed harder, pulling her hips flush so there was no mistaking the heat between them. She let out a small, breathy laugh against his ear—too quiet for me to hear, but I knew that sound. It was the one she made when she was turned on and pretending she wasn't.The countdown started.The room exploded with voices—ten, nine, eight…They didn't break apart. If anything, they moved slower, more deliberately. His mouth found hers just as the count hit five. Not a polite New Year's peck. A deep, hungry kiss—his tongue sliding past her lips, her head tilting to give him better access. One hand stayed locked on her ass while the other cradled the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair to hold her exactly where he wanted her.Three… two… one…Confetti rained. Cheers erupted. Horns blared. And in the middle of it all, Michele was still kissing him—slow, filthy, unhurried—her body molded to his, one leg hooked lightly around his calf like she needed the leverage.When they finally broke apart, her lips were swollen, lipstick smeared at the corner of her mouth. The fallen strap still hung off her shoulder, exposing the top curve of her breast almost to the edge of decency. She said something to him—short, private, teasing—then brushed her thumb across his lower lip like she was memorizing the taste.Then she turned and walked back to me.The crowd parted for her. Cheeks flushed, hair mussed, dress slightly askew, that post-kiss glow on her skin. She slid into the booth beside me, pressed her thigh tight against mine, and leaned in until her mouth was at my ear."Happy New Year, Robert," she whispered, voice low and wrecked. Her hand found my leg under the table, nails dragging lightly up my inner thigh. "Did you like the show?"I caught her chin, turned her face to mine, and kissed her—hard, claiming, tasting champagne and him and the edge of something new."Yeah," I said against her mouth, voice rough. "I liked it."She smiled—slow, wicked, unapologetic—and settled against my side, one hand still on my leg, the thin strap of her dress still dangling off her shoulder.The band started another song.And the night was nowhere near over.
That was the moment I was addicted to panties and bras.I was home alone and really horny. I was watching some mom/son porn and got really curious. I went to my mom‘s room and slowly opened her wardrobe.I couldn‘t believe my eyes. The sexiest underwear and lingerie I could imagine, silky thongs with lace, in all colours and patterns, neatly organised together with big matching bras. It was as if I opened the wardrobe of a model.I let my hand brush over the smooth silk, the pressure in my pants getting higher. Until I grabbed one thong, looked at it, and took a deep sniff even though it was clean it smelled so naughty. I got naked right there, stepped inside and slowly pulled it up, feeling the thong riding up my butt and creating a tent from my hard dick. A wet spot was instantly visible in the front. I laid on my mom‘s bed and couldn‘t stop jerking off. My whole body was shaking. Finally, I felt it coming out. My cum shot through the silky fabric and flew everywhere. It was the biggest load I ever had. I was shivering, sweating and panting. I cleaned everything up as good as I could and left her room.After that experience, I knew I found a new fetish, and I knew what I was gonna do as soon as I‘m home alone.
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