Not a Slut - Sex Stories

Not a Slut

... avoid him. *** On that third day, I was fuming. “Was that guy here earlier?” “Yeah, why?” “What did you two do?” “I just gave him another blowjob. He tried to show me how to get deeper this time. I almost got all the way once before I gagged and--” “Ugh, spare me the details! I just wanted you to know that your pervert boyfriend just… you know, just did himself into my underwear!” She looked at me like I was crazy. “You think he jerked off into your panties?” In one hand I held my underwear from the two days before, and with my other hand I threw over the pair I had just found in the hamper, which landed across her knees. She picked them up and examined the crotch, bringing it closer to her face. Suddenly she stuck her tongue out of her mouth, leaned forward, and licked at the wet spot. “Elle!” I yelled at her, incredulous. She’d licked my underwear, right in the crotch! She stared at me. “What? I needed to check.” “...And? What do you have to say for him?” “Well it definitely tastes like cum, but it’s not John’s. He was with me the whole time. He had to wait in his car until Daddy left, then rushed right into the room and into my mouth. He never left my sight!” I stomped over to her and snatched the spermy underwear out of her hands. “Well someone did it. That’s the third day in a row it happened.” “What? But John wasn’t here two days ago.” She paused and thought for a second. “It was probably Daddy.” I had to let out a laugh. “Dad? Why would Dad do that into my underwear? ...

... You’re the pervert around here, not him.” Elle shrugged. “Maybe he just ran out of toilet paper when he had to cum. Or maybe he wants to have sex with you.” I just rolled my eyes. “I’m sure. Just… make sure you keep an eye on your boyfriends, okay? I don’t want those perverts going through my stuff.” I went into the bathroom and threw my underwear back into the hamper. I looked around the hamper and up at the ceiling to see if anything could have dripped on them, or if anything else was wet. Not seeing anything, another thought crept into my mind. I grabbed all of the clothes out of the hamper and sorted all the panties out from everything else. One-by-one I went through and checked the crotch for each. On every single pair of my underwear there was a dry, crusted residue right inside toward the front. And none on Elle’s! It was strange. If it was semen, as Elle said, then it would have to be a guy doing it, and only doing it to my underwear. Maybe there had been a pervy repair man in during the day and Dad just didn’t mention it. Or one of Dad’s weird friends. Or maybe it was all a mistake, a misunderstanding that I’d laugh at later. But I had to know. *** The next day I made an excuse to get out of afternoon gym, and told a little white lie to my history teacher to make her think I was supposed to leave early. I wasn’t usually one to lie, but I’d earned enough trust from my teachers over the years that once couldn’t hurt. Which is how I found myself hiding in my closet in ...