I helped my sisters BF cum -Part 1

Everyone in this story is 18+

I was lying in my bed, listening to the moans from the room next door. My parents were out for the weekend, leaving just me and my sister with her BF, Julian. They weren’t exactly being subtle about it, which only intensified my arousal. Every sound, every thud against the wall, made my imagination run wild.

I couldn’t help but picture myself in her place—Julian’s strong hands gripping my hips, his body pressed against mine, driving into me. The thought alone sent a rush of heat through me, making me throb with desire. I needed something, anything, to make it feel more real. That’s when I remembered my secret.

I reached into my hidden drawer and fished out my little treasure: a pair of Julian’s used boxers. I had stolen them weeks ago, unable to resist after seeing them left carelessly in the laundry. Now, I held them up to my face, breathing in the scent that still clung to the fabric—a heady mix of sweat and masculinity. The smell sent shivers down my spine, and my body reacted instantly, blood rushing between my legs.

I could still hear my sister’s muffled moans, but they barely registered now. My focus was completely on the boxers, on how my body responded. I pressed them harder to my nose, taking in every trace of Julian’s scent. It was intoxicating, the perfect fuel for my fantasies.

Then I heard the bed creak and the sound of a door opening—the bathroom. It was a familiar sound after their encounters; my sister always rushed to clean herself up afterward. She was such a neat freak, never comfortable with the mess of it all. But if it were me, I wouldn’t care. Julian could use me as his cumrag if he wanted, and I would let him. God, I’d beg him to.

I glanced at my door, confident that I wouldn’t be interrupted. We had a strict rule about never entering each other’s rooms, which meant I could lose myself completely. I lay back on my bed, clutching Julian’s boxers to my face as I reached down, my fingers brushing against the tip of my aching dick. A quiet gasp escaped my lips, and I bit down on it, savoring the moment.

The soft fabric between my fingers, the scent of Julian so close, and the faint echo of my sister’s moans all blended together in my head. I rubbed myself slowly, teasingly, like I imagined he would. Each stroke was a wave of pleasure, growing stronger, making me tremble. I closed my eyes, picturing him above me, his voice low and commanding as he told me how much he wanted me.

A part of me knew this was wrong—that I shouldn’t be doing this—but that only made it hotter. She was my sister, and Julian was hers, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I was too far gone, lost in the fantasy of him, the thought of his hands on me, his lips grazing my skin, pushing me closer to the edge.

I bit my lip as my hand moved faster, my body arching off the bed. My quiet moans filled the air now, blending with the sounds from the other room, both of us lost in our own worlds. I imagined Julian’s breath on my neck, his rough hands gripping me, and I knew I was close—so close


Suddenly, the door flung open, and there he was—Julian! His broad shoulders filled the frame, and his tanned skin glowed under the dim light of my room. I froze, clutching his boxers in my hands. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I scrambled for an excuse, any excuse, to explain why I was sniffing his worn underwear like some sort of perverted fiend.

“Sammy?” His voice was deep, almost gravelly, sending shivers down my spine. “What are you doing with that?”

I stammered, my mind racing, but no words came out. My big blue eyes widened with panic as I glanced up at him and then down at the boxer in my hands. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, each tick of time dragging on as I stood there, paralyzed by embarrassment.

Finally, I managed to croak out, “I—I was just getting my laundry.”

He raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes piercing through me. “Laundry?” His tone was skeptical, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, warmth creeping up to my ears.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, trying to sound casual. “You know, tidying up. Laundry day and all that.”

He stepped into my room, closing the door behind him. The air seemed to thicken as he advanced toward me, his muscular frame towering over my petite, pixie-like form. I backed away, but there was nowhere to go. My knees bumped into the edge of the bed, and I stumbled, nearly falling onto the mattress.

“Laundry day, huh?” He smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest, a playful glint in his eye. “And you decided to sniff my boxers that magically appeared in your bedroom while you were at it?”

My face felt like it was on fire, and I dropped the boxers as if they had burned me. “I—I wasn’t sniffing them!” I protested, though my voice wavered, betraying my embarrassment.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a thrill through me. “Sure you weren’t.”

I looked down, feeling completely humiliated. Why did I have to get caught? And why did it have to be him? My sister’s boyfriend—the epitome of masculinity, the guy every girl drooled over—and here I was, getting busted for sniffing his underwear.

“Look, Sammy,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “I know things are kind of weird between us, but you don’t have to lie about it. You can be honest with me.”

I peeked up at him through my lashes, my heart pounding even harder. “Honest? About what?”

He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair, making it fall over his forehead. “About how you feel. About... this.” He gestured vaguely toward the boxers on the floor.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “And what do you mean by that?”

He took another step closer, and I could feel the warmth of his body radiating toward me. “I mean, I think you kinda like me.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I shook my head quickly. “No, no, I don’t!—I couldn’t—”

“Shh,” he cut me off gently, reaching out to take my hand. His fingers were warm and rough against my delicate skin, sending a spark of electricity through my arm. “It’s okay, Sammy. I won’t tell anyone. But... maybe we can help each other out.”

I looked up at him, confusion swirling in my chest. “Help each other? How?”

He squeezed my hand gently, his gaze intense and searching. “Your sister... she doesn’t let me finish. Ever. She gets too freaked out by cum, so she leaves me hanging every time.”

My mind raced, trying to process what he was saying. “So... you want me to... help you finish?”

I felt lightheaded, my mind spinning with possibilities. Could I really do this? Could I help him? The thought of being so close to Julian, of touching him, sent a rush of heat through my body. I glanced down at his crotch, imagining what lay beneath his jeans. The thought alone made my pulse quicken, igniting a desire I had tried to suppress until now.