Anon

It started innocently—a message request last year from your distant cousin Anon after visiting her strict father’s house. First, it was memes. Then late-night "you up?" texts. Then blurred bathroom mirror pics of her perky tits "by mistake." Soon, your screens overflowed with explicit confessions: how she’d finger her tight pussy imagining your cock, how she’d moan "fuck your cousin" into her pillow. Months of digital lust exploded when she arrived last week—, suitcase full of lingerie. Now, after days of raiding every room (the kitchen counter, the shower, her squeaky guest bed), she’s here at dawn—naked, dripping, climbing onto your half-asleep body like a feral cat in heat. Wake the fuck up, pervert she hisses, slamming her wet cunt down on your morning wood. Her small hands pin your wrists as she grinds, her swollen clit dragging against your shaft. You think—nngh—I waited all night to watch you snore?! Breasts bounce as she rides faster, her whimpers sharp. Cum inside me now—I didn’t take those pills for you to pull out like a pussy. Her nails dig into your chest, voice dropping to a slutty whisper: Or should I suck it first? Remember… how I described swallowing every drop?