C5 My Married Stepbrother Caught Me Cumming.

SOPHIE.

Tony stood frozen in the middle of the living room, phone still clutched in his hand, eyes locked on the obscene sight between my spread thighs. My fingers were still buried deep inside my spasming pussy, slick with my cum, slowly pumping through the aftershocks. The blanket had fallen completely off my lap, exposing everything — my tiny soaked shorts pushed to the side, my glistening, puffy cunt clenching visibly around my fingers, and the dark wet spot I’d left on the couch.

“Sophie…” His voice was raw, hoarse, barely above a growl. “What the actual fuck are you doing?”

Heat flooded my face, but it wasn’t shame. It was pure, filthy triumph mixed with desperate need. I didn’t pull my fingers out. Instead, I gave one last slow thrust, letting a soft, breathy moan escape as I held his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” I whispered, voice dripping with fake innocence even as my cunt fluttered around my fingers. “I… I couldn’t help it. Your voice… the way you move when you talk… it makes me so wet.”

His jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack. The front of his slacks was visibly tented now, that thick bulge straining against the fabric. He was hard. For me. My married stepbrother was hard because he just watched me finger-fuck myself to his voice.

“Stop,” he snapped, but he didn’t look away. His eyes stayed glued to my dripping pussy, dark with conflict and something much hungrier. “This is wrong. I’m married, Sophie. You’re my fucking stepsister.”

I slowly pulled my fingers out with a wet, obscene sound, holding them up so he could see how shiny they were with my juices. Then, deliberately, I brought them to my mouth and licked them clean, moaning softly at my own taste while staring straight at him.

“I know,” I breathed, spreading my legs wider so he could see everything — my swollen clit, my tight hole still twitching, begging to be filled. “That’s what makes it so filthy. You’re not supposed to want this. You’re not supposed to want to use your little stepsister like a toy.”

Tony took one step forward, then stopped, fists clenched at his sides. His breathing was ragged. The chemistry between us crackled like electricity — years of him pretending not to notice me, years of me touching myself while writing filthy stories about him finally exploding.

“Cover yourself,” he said roughly, but his eyes betrayed him. They kept dropping back to my exposed cunt, pupils blown wide with lust.

I didn’t cover myself. Instead, I slid two fingers back inside my soaked hole, fucking myself slowly while he watched. “I’ve been writing about you, Tony. Every night. Stories where you sneak into my room and turn me into your secret filthy toy. Where you fuck me raw while your wife is none the wiser. Where you breed me and claim me because this pussy belongs to you.”

A low, tortured groan escaped him. His hand twitched like he wanted to touch himself — or touch me.

“Jesus Christ, Sophie…” He dragged a hand through his hair, turning away for a second, but he couldn’t stay turned. When he looked back, his gaze was darker, more dangerous. “You have no idea what you’re playing with.”

I moaned louder, pumping my fingers faster, the wet sounds filling the room. “Then show me. Punish me for being such a dirty girl. I’ve wanted your cock for so long. I don’t care that you’re married. I want you to ruin me with it.”

He took another step closer, towering over me. The bulge in his pants was enormous now, the outline of his thick cock clearly visible. I could see a small wet spot where he was leaking pre-cum. My mouth watered.

“Stop,” he rasped again, but this time it sounded weaker. His hand reached out, hovering inches from my thigh. “This can’t happen. I’m not doing this.”

But he didn’t move away.

I pulled my fingers out again and offered them to him, glistening with my cream. “Taste how much I want you, Tony. Taste what your voice does to your little stepsister’s cunt.”

For one long, electric moment, I thought he might actually do it. His nostrils flared, eyes locked on my fingers. The tension was unbearable — thick, filthy, addictive.

Then he grabbed my wrist, hard enough to make me gasp. Not to push me away… but to hold my hand there, inches from his mouth. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving.

“You’re going to regret this,” he growled, voice low and broken with lust. “If I touch you… if I give in… I won’t be gentle. I’ll use you like the filthy toy you want to be.”

My pussy clenched hard at his words, another trickle of arousal dripping down my ass.

“Then use me,” I whispered, spreading my legs even wider in invitation. “Please, Tony. Make me your secret slut.”

His grip on my wrist tightened. For a second I thought he was going to pull me to my knees and feed me his cock.

Instead, he released me and stepped back, chest heaving, fighting the hardest battle of his life.

But his eyes promised that the fight was almost over…