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The stairs creaked beneath her bare feet as Corinna walked down, tugging the hem of her oversized t-shirt just a little lower—not that it helped much. It hung loose over her thighs, swallowing her frame, sleeves brushing her elbows. Beneath it, only the thin line of lace clung between her legs, the soft strap of panties pressing into her hips. Cozy. Lazy. No need for anything more.
The smell of warm cookies floated from the kitchen. She padded toward it, fingers pushing back her hair. That’s when she saw him.
Revanth. Her best friend’s kid brother. Back facing her, elbows on the counter, head bent toward his phone. He was smaller than her—shorter, leaner. Hair ruffled. Shoulders still holding that boyish slouch. He didn’t notice her yet.
“ Yo, munchkin ,” she said with a smirk, voice low and lazy. “ Your sister hiding from me or what? ”
He looked up without turning, just shifting enough to glare over his shoulder. Not angry. But definitely annoyed. Lips tight. Brows scrunched. That Revanth way of saying why are you talking to me without opening his mouth.
“ She’s streaming ,” he muttered, looking back down.
Corinna wandered in like she owned the place, grabbed one of the cookies off his plate, and took a lazy bite. Chocolate still warm. She chewed, eyes flicking to him. His screen was still tilted away, but his head hadn’t moved.
“ What? ” she asked, one brow lifting as she chewed. “ You got a staring problem or something? ”
That’s when she saw it—just a flicker of his smirk before he turned the screen slightly. “ Did you really finish on the chair? ” he asked, too casual, like he wasn’t already halfway enjoying the answer.
Her body froze. Cookie halfway to her mouth. Eyes locked on the phone screen. Her own video. TikTok. That one. The stupid clip she posted where she was laughing, grinding herself on a chair like a joke. Only… it hadn’t stayed a joke.
She leaned in. His screen didn’t lie. He was watching that video. Her breath tightened in her chest. She swallowed back a blush, forced her smirk to stay.
“ I was just messing around ,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek. “ That’s not how real girls get off .”
Total lie.
She’d finished. Right there. Right then . The edge hit her like a jolt—crept up slow, then slammed. Her body locked, thighs tightening, breath catching in her throat. She hadn’t even meant for it to go that far. It was supposed to be stupid. A dumb little grind. A laugh. But somewhere between the pressure and the chair, her muscles tensed and gave out. Her giggle snapped into a moan she couldn’t bite back, and before she even realized, she was shaking, biting her lip, and coming. Hard .
Before she could think more about that, she caught his expression again. That look . That curve in his lips. That I don’t believe you smirk painted all over his face.
“ What? ” she snapped, narrowing her eyes as she shifted her weight, licking the chocolate off her thumb slow, her tongue dragging lazy across the skin.
Still, he didn’t answer. Just watched her like he knew everything.
Corinna rolled her eyes, licked the last cookie crumb from her finger, and stepped closer.
She knew it was fucked up. She didn’t care. He was standing there acting like he knew shit, watching her like he had a clue what it felt like to be so damn worked up from nothing. She hadn’t even touched herself that day, and she still came. That was real . That was pressure. And if this kid thought he could smirk and judge, she’d make him feel what that looked like—grind it into his bones. Maybe then he’d shut the fuck up.
“ Come here, babyboy ,” she smirked, dragging her fingers across the counter as she moved toward him. “ Let me show you how it actually works. You wouldn’t last five minutes in my DMs .”
He straightened. “ What are you doing? ” he asked, voice cracking, panic blooming.
She stepped behind him. Close . Pressed her chest to his back, arms sliding around his waist. She dropped her chin near his shoulder, and slowly rolled her hips forward—grinding her crotch to his ass. The shirt lifted a little. She felt it. That same feeling. The same pull. Her lips parted. A quiet breath escaped. She rolled her hips again—slower this time, pressing in, dragging her center against him. The crotch of her panties dragged right where it hit, folding against her, rubbing her just enough to make her thighs twitch. Her lower lip caught between her teeth as her grip on his waist tightened. Her hips moved again, tighter this time, pressing down with a low shift. She leaned in, lips brushing the edge of his hair, and exhaled hard through her nose.
He froze.
She almost didn’t stop. Almost didn’t think. But the pressure twisted too tight, and she clenched her thighs to stop it. Her mouth found his ear.
“ That make your little thing twitch or what? ” she whispered, hot into his ear.
His skin went red. Neck flushed. Jaw clenched.
He shook his head—barely.
Corinna chuckled low, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “ Didn’t think so ,” she murmured with a quiet laugh.
She stepped back, fingers trailing off his waist. Her body still tense, thighs pulsing. She turned around with a flick of hair and a half-laugh under her breath.
“ Desperate whore ,” she muttered to herself with a smirk. “ Can’t help it when I’m this worked up .”
She strutted out of the kitchen, each step heavier than she meant it to be. Her thighs still ached from the press. A tingle still sat where the lace dragged. She didn’t look back. Didn’t need to . The pulse between her legs was doing enough talking. Upstairs. That’s where she needed to be.
—-
Corinna stepped into the streaming room without knocking. The lights were low but lit in neon blue and sick green, casting weird glows on the walls. Her friend Layla sat in a massive gaming chair—black leather with red trim, a headset clamped over her head, mic lifted. Dual monitors, a ring light, a stack of energy drinks on the desk. Controller in hand. Total setup.
“ Yo, Laylay ,” Corinna called, smirking.
Layla flicked her eyes to the side, then back to the screen. “ What’s up, whore? ”
Corinna grinned, stepping in farther and standing behind her friend’s chair. Layla’s hands worked the controls fast, her character sprinting across the screen in Apex Legends, gunning someone down in a hallway.
“ Still playing this cracked-ass game? ” Corinna teased, folding her arms.
“ You still walking around in my house with nothing but panties and attitude? ” Layla shot back, not missing a beat.
Corinna leaned in, pressed her palms to the armrests, and dropped her chin onto the top of the chair. She smacked her lips.
“ When you’re done, we getting drinks or what? ” Corinna muttered, rolling her hips once into the chair, fingers drumming on the armrest.
Layla snorted. “ Only if you’re buying. Or flashing .”
“ Can do both ,” Corinna muttered with a chuckle.
She opened her mouth for another shot—then stopped.
Something pressed low. Damp. Slow. Right where she was already wet. Her body caught it before her brain did—a drag so steady, so thick, her folds pulled under it without warning. Her eyes flicked down, neck stiff, head not moving. The shirt still hung over her thighs, soft and loose, but her panties? They were already a mess. Clinging. Soaked. She hadn’t even realized how slick she’d gotten. But this—this wasn’t her. This wasn’t lace. This was skin. Hot. Warm. Real. It settled right where her body throbbed, like it had slipped in place on instinct, and her breath hitched hard in her throat.
She pushed herself up without thinking, slow and steady, fingers still planted on the armrests. Her chin lifted just enough to turn. Not fast. Not snappy. Just enough to catch who was behind her.
Revanth stood there. Close .
His face was red, hair sticking in pieces to his forehead, sweat clinging to his neck. His lips were parted, breath shallow. His hands stayed at his sides, twitchy, like even he didn’t know if he was about to grab her or bolt.
She looked down between them. His cock sat thick and hard, the tip pressed to her cunt. It stayed right there. Warmth gathered where his crown touched her folds. Slick coated the contact.
Her brain blanked.
Her breath caught halfway. Her knees twitched like she might step back, but didn’t. Her grip held. Her lips parted, not from shock—just caught off guard, like she didn’t expect it to actually go there. But she didn’t stop it.
Before she could move, before she could speak—he thrust.
Her body jerked forward as the thrust landed, hips bumping into Layla’s chair. Her eyes blew wide, mouth hanging open with a gasp she barely swallowed. One hand shot out, catching the top edge of the chair for balance, the other pressing to her own thigh. Her knees shifted, parted without thinking, legs bracing to stay grounded. The fabric of her panties pulled tight across her folds, the seam pushing against her slit with every shift. Her breath stopped, and the warm ache at her center kicked hard. For one split second, her whole body locked—live stream. She blinked, head swimming, eyes crawling toward the monitor screen. The angle stopped just at her. Nothing behind her. Nothing showing. Her lashes fluttered. A breath dragged through her teeth.
Her chest rose and fell in tight bursts. Every slow shove behind her dragged her forward, not enough to make noise—but enough to make her thighs clench around the drag of his length. Her soaked cleft twitched with every roll of Revanth’s hips, her groove grinding back without her even meaning to. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t moan. Just in front of her, Layla sat completely unaware. Corinna’s lips parted again, but she bit the inside of her cheek. Her body twitched as his piece slid deeper, her mound snug against the pressure. It felt like her entire tunnel was being worked open with every drive. Shit .
She started moving with it. Her hips rocked back into him, the contact growing slick between the curve of her rear and the front of his thighs. The crotch of her panties folded tighter into her slit, rubbing her groove hard, pressing right against the soft bump at the top. Her mouth hung open, her lip trembling. The tension inside her tunnel twisted tighter, her folds fluttering from the push. Her grip on the chair shifted, fingers curling tighter. Her entire channel throbbed as the ridge of his shaft dragged back, teasing her entrance without pulling out.
Revanth’s hands clamped around her waist. He pushed again, slower this time. Her ass met his hips, and the friction drove her panties right up into her gap, wedged high across her lips, splitting her open. Corinna’s pussy sucked around his girth, slick and clenching. The friction dragged across her nub, making her buck. Her face burned. Her spine pulled taut. Her walls squeezed without control, wet and twitching around him. Her mound pressed firm to the base of his cock, and the weight of it kept her there, caught and leaking. Fuck .
The chair shifted slightly under her grip. A small nudge forward. Layla let out a low snort, voice casual. “ You seriously grinding the chair again? ” Her laugh was short, teasing, half-distracted. Corinna blinked through the haze, lips parting, chest jolting once. She almost smiled— almost —but her eyes rolled instead, throat too tight to fake it. Goddamn .
Another push. Another grind. Corinna’s chest trembled. Her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth. Her grind turned sloppy, and her cunt swallowed him again, the tight grip of her sheath choking down. Her legs shook. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her body kept working without permission, grinding into the heat, clamping with each slide of Revanth’s shaft through her soaked groove. The slit of her panties barely covered her now, stuck between her folds like a twisted strap.
She bent forward just enough to keep from moaning, hips circling in place. Her rear stayed stuck to his lap. Her slit pulsed around him, lips parting every time she rolled back. She dragged herself into each press of his rod, her folds hugging the base. Her breath hitched. Her jaw clenched. She couldn’t stop. Her mouth stayed open, lips trembling, body rocking as her mound caught every ridge, every curve of him.
Corinna’s chest pulsed. Her stomach curled in. Her legs nearly buckled. She wrapped one hand behind her, clinging to Revanth’s thigh while her cunt squeezed again. Her panties were soaked through, sticking to her folds, stretched too tight to matter. The steady grind had her clit twitching under the pressure. Her grip on the chair was slick. Her eyes burned. Her lips parted again, and her breath hitched once. Hard .
Her hips kept rolling. Her ass bounced tight to his lap. Her slit gripped down every time his shaft dragged through. She shoved back, grinding her cunt down his shaft like she owned it. Her mouth twitched, folds gripping tight. Her ass snapped into him, again, again, taking him deeper than before. Her legs buckled, spread wider. Her fingers locked around the armrest, knuckles white. Her hips slammed back, soaked, leaving slick streaks every time she dropped onto him.
Corinna’s eyes rolled back so hard her vision went white. Her hips didn’t stop. Her body kept grinding, kept dragging her soaked cunt down his shaft, over and over, sticky and hot. Her breath caught in her chest, but her ass snapped back harder, faster, pulling him in with every roll. Her hands stayed locked on the chair. Her thighs opened wider. The pressure inside her curled up like a fist, low and deep. She didn’t even blink anymore. Her body just moved.
She bent lower, legs shaking, cunt clenching on every drag. His cock slipped deep again, slick and swollen, stuffed inside her. She didn’t care if she moaned. Didn’t care if the chair rocked. Didn’t care if anyone heard the sound between her thighs. Her mouth hung open, drool on her lip. Her back arched. Her toes dragged. She just kept riding him, sloppy and low. She could feel how wet she was. Could feel her panties sticking, twisted, doing nothing. She needed it to keep going. She needed more.
Revanth kept hitting the same spot. Every time he shoved up into her, her body jolted forward, and she snapped right back onto him. His cock filled her full. The tip dragged deep. Her folds wrapped around him like they knew him. Her nails curled harder around the armrest, sweat dripping down her neck. Her mound kept slamming into him. Her walls wouldn’t stop twitching. Her pussy ached. She bounced again, again, hips working slow and tight.
The chair shifted again. Just enough. Layla’s voice cut through with a half-laugh. “ Okay—who just said, ‘Tell Corinna to grab your boobs’?! ” She snorted. “Don’t give that bitch any ideas.” Corinna didn’t speak. She leaned forward, grinding down as her hands slid straight over Layla’s chest, fingers curling in hard. Her ass rolled deeper onto Revanth’s lap, her soaked folds sucking him in while her grip on Layla tightened. Layla squealed, breath catching as she twisted in her seat, laughter snapping out of her, one hand flailing toward the screen. “ You’re actually insane ,” she laughed low, “ get your fucking hands off me, bitch .”
Then it hit. Revanth groaned behind her, hands locking to her hips as his cock thickened, bucked once, then burst inside her. His cum shot deep, pumping hot into her, flooding her hole. That was it. Corinna froze, her body locking around him. Her cunt clamped so tight she couldn’t move. Her legs kicked once, her back arched, and she came—soaking him, grinding in, feeling every spill pour out of her. She released a shaky laugh, lips parted, body twitching. Her hips rolled slow, dragging him out with a wet pull. She gasped. Her knees bent. “ Text me when your stream’s done ,” she tossed out through a breathless smile, sweat sticking to her skin, wiping her brow. “ I need... like five hours and a snack .”
She shifted, slowly, keeping Revanth in front of her as she turned, her hips moving to block the view. Her hands nudged his back lightly, guiding him with her. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to. Her thighs were still sticky. Her cunt still fluttering. That crooked little smirk curled at her mouth. She walked him out like it was nothing—like this was just how her afternoons went — like she was taking her favorite toy to her room for round two.