Pick Me - Sex Stories

Pick Me

... gonna cut it. It just won’t be the same if I do it. I’m so used to her. I kinda need you to do it.”

I’m floored. Up to this point was another thing, but I couldn’t possibly do something like that with a friend. It would just make things awkward between us.

“Umm…I-I don’t know,” I answer, stuttering over my words, “We’re friends. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“It won’t be if we don’t let it. Look, all I need is your hands and mouth and that’s it. We never speak of it again.”

“But Chandler-”

“Please. I can’t move on without it.”

But he’s like a brother to me. All of my male friends are like older brothers. Something like this could potentially ruin that. I don’t wanna be seen as that type of girl who takes advantage of a friend who’s this down in the dumps. I treat my friends with respect. I’m guessing he takes my silence as a “no” because he sighs before saying,

“It’s fine. It’s not fair to make you do anything you don’t wanna do. Even if it means helping me. Just forget I asked. I’ll just find another way to heal.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Now he’s gonna hate me. Then this’ll get to the other boys and they’ll think I’m a selfish bitch and none of them will wanna be my friends anymore. And that’ll probably ruin any chance of me having any more male friends ever again. I can’t let that happen.

“Ok, ok, ok,” I say, getting onto my knees in front of him, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just sit there and let me do everything, ok?”

He gives me ...

... a smile, saying,

“Thanks, Charlie. I knew you were a great reliable friend.”

Yay, I’m reliable. Ok, so I just need to push my feelings aside. Easy enough. I’ll just pretend he’s someone else. I grab the hem of his shorts, pulling them down his thighs, along with his boxers, fully exposing his awaiting erection. He’s so hard. He must’ve been envisioning some really vivid memories about her.

I hesitantly bring a hand to it, trying to get my mind off of the fact that this is Chandler I’m doing this to. I wrap my hand around his shaft, gently stroking it up and down. He lets out a light gasp from my touch and movements, not helping me at all. How am I supposed to think about someone else if he’s making noise? I guess I'll just have to deal with it and get it over with as soon as possible.

I continue my strokes, enticing more moans from him. Please, just let this be done quickly. I don’t wanna do this for too long. It’s so weird and gross. How is he so comfortable with this? He’s the one who started calling me “little sis”. Why is he so nonchalant about this? Maybe he pushed those thoughts aside. Maybe I should try harder.

“You’re doing amazing, little sis,” he says, tossing my theory out the window, “Maybe you should start using your mouth now. That’s what she used to do.”

God, this is so gross. I really don’t wanna do this. But it’s for a good cause, so I guess I have to. I reluctantly lean down, getting closer to his growing member. I then wrap my lips around ...