Life as a good little girl/Thank your brother and take his phone
From Create Your Own Story
"Um... thank you?"
"For...?"
"Thank you for cumming on my face," you tell him and he goes slack-jawed, though you don't know why. After all, he wanted you to say it, right? "Now can I use your phone? Please?"
Snapping his mouth shut Mark looks down at the phone. "Just a moment," he says, and starts tapping away on it.
You wait impatiently, bouncing up and down a little. Instinctively you wipe at your face, immediately recognizing the mistake as your smear the cum across your skin and onto your hand.
Mark starts to hold out the phone, and you almost snatch it out of his hand when he's done. Almost, but not quite because he pulls it back immediately.
"Hey, don't get cum all over my phone, slut."
The words make you wince a little, but with his semen all over your body you can't really object.
"Then I'll go clean up real quick," you say, and turn to leave.
"Suit yourself," he says, and taps the screen a few more times. "In the meantime I think I'll start again."
"What?" you stare at him as he flops back on the bed and holds up the phone, staring at it while he absently plays with his dick. Co-incidentally it points straight at you.
"B-but, I need the phone!"
"Yeah, well, maybe you should do a real quick clean-up. Like, wipe it with your hands and then lick it off."
"Ew. I'm not..."
"Why so squeamish? You've never been squeamish about swallowing my load before," he grins, making it sound as if you regularly swallow his cum.
Looking down at your cum-smeared hand, and feeling the droplets around your mouth, and raise it to your mouth. The other time you had no choice about tasting it, this time you do, and it seems so much more repulsive and naughty. Tentatively you stick out your tongue and like a cat you start to lick your fingers clean, sucking in each digit to speed things up, then licking all over your palm. It feels so daring and so much like something you'd brag to Tiffany about that you start scooping it up off your thighs and chest.
"Don't forget all that cum on your face."
Wrinkling your nose you lick your lips, catching a few stray drops, then wipe the cum from your eye, licking that hand clean while the other rubs around your face, looking for more cum for you to lick, but really just smearing it into your skin.
"Is there more?" you ask him, and realize he's started masturbating again. "Hey! I get the phone now!"
"Alright, alright," he grumbles, stopping reluctantly. He starts tapping at the screen again. "I'm just gonna send something to my buddies," he says, and keeps tapping away. Finally he puts the phone face-down on his stomach, his hard dick laying on top of it.
Giving him a disgusted look you reach forward, trying to not touch him. In spite of your efforts the back of your hand touches his dick and makes it jump. You snatch your hand back and open the phone app.
"Don't leave the room," he orders, and starts masturbating again. "Hey, hold up the magazine, will you?"
Sighing, you pick up the magazine while you tap out Joe's number. Holding it up at some random page you put the phone to your ear. After three rings you're certain that you're about to get Joe's voice mail.
"Yeah?" Joe calls out through the phone.
"J... Daddy!" you exclaim. "It's me. Er, Stephi."
Joe chuckles. "Well of course it is. Who else calls me daddy?"
"Oh. Right. Well. You know those boxes? I gave you the wrong ones."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I put all my good clothes in the wrong box, and I need them back. All I have is old stuff here."
Mark looks up at you from the magazine, seemingly finding your words interesting enough to stop looking at the porn.
"Wrong boxes? Well shi... er, shoot. I was almost there. Guess it's good you called."
You let out a tense breath and smile. "Yeah. So you'll come right back?"
"Sure. I'll be right there."
You start to take the phone away from your face, smiling from ear to ear, oblivious to the fact that you're holding a porno mag against your belly while your brother masturbates furiously in front of you.
"Stephi!" Joe's voice calls faintly from the phone, and you put it back to your ear.
"What?"
"Get the other box ready. You know, the one with the stuff you don't want. You can bring it out when I get back so I don't have to unload all the boxes."
"But... But what'll I wear? Why can't you bring the other box in and this one back out?"
"I've gotta drop them off before the place closes. Besides, you don't want your brothers or me poking around your underwear, do you?"
The thought makes your face turn red and you shake your head. "No."
"I'm sure you'll be able to find something to wear outside. Even if it was just a coat."
"Right," you mutter, feeling dispirited in spite of the prospect of getting your clothes back.
"See you soon, hun," Joe says and hangs up.
"You can have your phone back," you tell him, holding it out without looking.
"Guh-reat," he grunts, taking it from you and clicking away on it like it was a part of him. "P-put the magazine with the others."
"Under the..." you gulp, wondering if you'd just blown it. You weren't supposed to know where his porn was. It was just like a boy to make sure that his porn was stashed away before bothering to put his clothes in the dresser.
"Under the bed. Here," he points to his side.
"Uh..." you look down at the magazine, but not at what it shows. Then you look away again when you glimpse his dick. Part of you wants to just throw the magazine, but another part of you cautions that it's research material for you, and you roll your eyes as you kneel by the bed. "You sure you don't need it?" you ask dryly.
"N-ah. Just don't... want it... getting wrecked. Always notice... when stash... is out of place."
You freeze on your knees, hand half-way under the bed, and wonder if that was aimed at you. Had he noticed your occasionally forays into his porn collection? Would he understand that you didn't have any choice since you needed to create convincing stories for Tiffany? You look up at him - his face - and freeze as you see he's looking at you. Or maybe at his phone, which is aimed in your direction.
A moment later you feel a splash against your cheek and you flinch, looking around for the source. Another strikes your nose and you realize he's cumming. Again! On you. Again!
"Ma- uck!" you choke, a third blast landing in your mouth. Instead of dodging you duck your head, your hand automatically coming up to your mouth as a fourth, weaker shot hits your other cheek. Finally you jerk away, but it's far too late and doesn't help you anyway. His balls seem to have discharged most of their load and only a small spurt comes out before he settles back with a sigh.
"Pig," you mutter, and hop to your feet, wanting nothing more than to wipe your face. In spite of your efforts you tongue darts out and scoops some of the white stuff off your lips.
"Aren't you going to say thanks?" he asks you, his attention on his phone. Probably looking for another picture to jerk off to.
"For...?"
Mark waves at his phone, which is now next to his softening dick. You stare at the strange sight of the hard pole falling over like it's exhausted. So that's what happens when they stop being hard. Does it look like that in reverse?
"You like my dick?" Mark asks, and you realize you'd been staring at it.
"Perv," you mutter with a blush, and force yourself to your feet, ready to flee.
"Hey! Aren't you going to say thanks?"
"For what?"
Mark waves toward his phone, which is beside his dick, but still pointing at you. The phone, not the dick, which is pointing left. Not that you're tracking it or anything.
"Th-thanks. Again. I mean, for..." you wave at his phone, then realize it looks like you're waving at his penis, and flee the room, hearing him laughing lightly.
"Oh, the boys'll love seeing this," is the last thing you hear him say as he taps away at his phone, apparently already working on his next masturbatory material.
You, on the other hand, have to decide what to do about your situation.
Life as a good little girl/The box swap goes smoothly
