Trap

Thanks guys, for continuously asking regarding any updates for my sister-in-law.
No, she did not act weird or awkward at all. We still chit chat and talk like we normally do, same energy, same casual conversations. Nothing feels tense or forced. 

However, maybe it’s just my own awareness playing tricks on me, every time she sees me, her eyes seem to land on my legs first. Just briefly. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just my own awareness playing tricks on me. Either way, things between us are normal.

Anyway, this week is not about her.

This week is about Xav.

It all started with this ridiculous bet I made with Xav. I told him I will give him a fulfill one of his requests if he could win me in a game. Honestly, I planned to let him win, just to keep things interesting but he was such a noob that it was almost unfair. Eventually, I claimed victory, fair and square.

The tricky part, I hadn’t really thought about what the “punishment” would be if he lost. Totally unplanned, In a snap decision, I leaned back and slipped my hand under the hem of my skirt. I was wearing a normal white tee with a denim skirt, the kind of outfit that blends into a crowd without trying. We were also seated at the corner of a café, half-hidden from the rest of the room. Perfect spot and time. Carefully, I eased my thong down, letting it slide free from the warm, damp skin it had been pressed against all day. The wet spot on my thong made the whole “punishment” feel even more thrilling

I held it out, and he instinctively took it, awkwardly wrapping it around his wrist. The original 'punishment' was for him to use it to tie my hair, but since he decided wrap it around his wrist, I let him be. 

The rest of the day turned into a playful game. Every time he glanced at his wrist, I felt this quiet rush of satisfaction, knowing he was carrying my little stunt everywhere. On and off, I would walk slightly faster and swing my hips, enjoying the little shiver of attention it drew. There was even one moment when I lifted the back of my dress just enough to show him a peek of my butt cheek.

By the end of the night, I rewarded him in my own mischievous way. I sucked him while stroking him with the thong. I even let him cum onto the thong and force him to keep the thong as a little trophy, a reminder of the game we’d played and the mischief I’d pulled.

Sis-in-law

Today, I worked from home and, as usual, woke up just five minutes before my shift started. In a rush, I slapped on a nipple sticker and my corporate tee, no shorts, just the white thong I had been wearing since last night. Perfectly “professional,” right? Well, sort of.

I joined the morning Zoom meeting, which, honestly, was mostly for headcount. Within a few minutes, I was already bored and fighting off sleep. Since it was on Zoom, I couldn’t just turn off my camera and crawl back into bed, so I settled for fidgeting a bit in my chair, trying to stay awake.

Then I heard the door creak. My sister-in-law had come in to put away my dried clothes. I hadn’t locked the door.

I froze for a moment, heart thudding, and slowly realized she might have noticed how little I was wearing. The oversized tee barely covered my thighs, and the white thong underneath… well, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly invisible. I quickly sat straighter, trying to act casual, and forced my gaze back to the Zoom screen.

She glanced at me, paused, and gave a faint, polite smile, like she’d spotted something slightly unusual, but didn’t want to make it awkward. Maybe she’d noticed the thong? Maybe she just thought my oversized tee was… fashionably short. Either way, the awareness made my skin tingle, a mix of embarrassment and thrill I couldn’t quite hide.

I tried to focus on the meeting, but my mind kept wandering. The combination of being half-dressed, stuck on camera, and knowing someone else was in the room made my morning anything but boring.

After she left, I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me but the tiny thrill of her presence lingered. I plopped back on the couch, still fidgeting a little in my chair, remembering the subtle tension from the late night’s noodle encounter. Somehow, even the mundane act of being home alone felt charged.

It was around 1 pm when hunger finally kicked in. I had missed breakfast, though I remembered asking my mom to grab something for me earlier. I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to throw on some shorts. My sister-in-law usually stayed tucked away in her room, so I decided to take the chance.

Just my oversized tee and the white thong, I went out, imagining it would be a quick mission. But as I stepped into the living room, my stomach did a tiny flip.

There she was, my sister-in-law, sitting on the couch, legs stretched out on the coffee table, scrolling on her phone, completely absorbed… or so I hoped.

For a second, I froze, acutely aware of how exposed I must look. The tee barely covered my thighs, and the faint hint of white underneath made me blush. But instead of rushing past, I lingered just a beat too long, letting the playful tension of the moment settle in.

“Did mom bring my breakfast?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my voice probably carried more self-consciousness than I intended.

She glanced up, gave a small, polite smile, and said yes before returning to her phone. I swear I caught a brief flicker in her eyes, but she stayed calm.

I quickly made my way to the kitchen, and for the best part, I decided to have my breakfast at the dining table instead of going back to my room. After all, I had already been seen by my sister-in-law, and she had been so calm about it, why not embrace it?

Sadly, when I walked back, she was napping on the sofa, sprawled out comfortably. I froze for a second, not wanting to disturb her, and quietly tiptoed past, trying to contain a small, guilty smile at how absurdly playful the morning had turned out to be.

Evening rolled around, and I had spent the afternoon lost in work, still occasionally replaying the morning’s little encounters in my head. Around dinner time, my sister-in-law called out that the food was ready.

I got up, slipping on a pair of shorts over my tee and thong. Not that I thought she’d notice, but… well, the morning had made me hyper-aware of how visible I could be.

When I walked into the dining area, I caught her eyes immediately. For a brief second, I swear the first thing she did was check whether I was wearing shorts. I felt a rush of amusement, and relief, when she relaxed after realizing I was. She gave a faint smile, casual, as if nothing unusual had happened, but I couldn’t help smirking inwardly at the playful tension that lingered.

E____a

 Guys, Happy 2026!!!
Amazed how time has flies, this year is gonna be a busy year for me. Multiple events coming up, and also, my own BTO. Hehe.

Anyway, I have something really interesting to share. Last month, after doing some careful calculations, I realized I owed a special shoutout to E____a. He had purchased a total of 65 pairs of clothing in just one year. Honestly, thank you, that’s… impressive.

Like I said before, I know you’re rich, but maybe save a little for yourself, okay? And, please, don’t make last-minute requests for extra clothing, it can get tricky.

Which brings me to this one time: we had a deal at a shopping centre in the west. Everything was going smoothly, until, at the very last minute, he made an unusual request, he asked for the my bra, and the shorts I was wearing that day and just to give you guys the context, I had literally just finished my jog, so I was still in my post-run outfit, comfortable, casual, and slightly disheveled.

Trust me, I frozed. The request was completely unexpected, and honestly, a little ridiculous. My jog outfit wasn’t exactly “deal-ready”, the bra was nothing fancy, and the shorts were my most comfortable, worn-in pair.

At first, I refused. I mean, it felt absurd! Handing over my actual worn clothing on a whim but then he mentioned the payout again. Not just that, he was willing to sponsor a new bra and a dress for me, just for agreeing. There was just one limit: the replacement had to be a dress, and he suggested that a sundress would be best.

I hesitated, weighing practicality against the ridiculousness and the tiny thrill of doing something daring. In the end, I decided to go for it. I handed over my black bra, and my comfy FBT shorts. 

The whole transaction felt like a secret little adventure. I had to find a good discreet place to place my big package while maintaining composure

Overall, appreciated for your contribution and thanks for the new dress.  

Supper

You ever have those random moments where you ask yourself, “Does anyone actually dress properly to cook supper?”

Because last week, after writing my previous post, I got hungry. My usual late-night fix? Maggi noodles, quick, comforting, and perfect for satisfying that sudden craving.

It was late, the kind of hour when the house is silent, and even your own thoughts feel loud against the walls. I figured no one would be awake, which sparked a mischievous little idea: why not make the snack run a bit… exciting?

I had been in my birthday suit just moments before, so I randomly grabbed a camisole from my drawer and yes, the moment I held it up, I knew it was trouble. The fabric was sheer, thin, and barely hid my nipples, pressing against them with every little movement. It clung to every curve, skimmed my hips, and barely reached my mid-thigh; I was pretty sure if I bent over, it wouldn’t even cover my pussy. I did consider throwing on my shorts, but… I was feeling kind of lazy. No bra, no panties, no shorts, just the soft, teasing material brushing against my bare skin, whispering against me in all the right ways.

Then shit happened. Halfway through cooking, my sister-in-law appeared. She was in her pajamas: soft, slightly loose, but thin enough that the outline of her breasts showed underneath. The top hung casually, yet clung in all the right places, teasing just enough that a hint of her pokie peeked out. Her hair was messy, tied back loosely, and she moved quietly across the kitchen. I froze mid-stir, caught between curiosity and… well, everything else. 

Our eyes met, and I swear, I caught her looking at my chest not once, but twice. My heart hammered, and I had no idea if she actually noticed how little I was wearing or if she was just pretending not to see. Every glance, every subtle movement, sent a shiver through me. I could feel myself getting wet, my nipples stiffening from the tension and the daring thrill of almost being caught.

After she disappeared into the bathroom, I shivered, not from the cold, but from the rush of the encounter. My noodles were ready, and I grabbed my bowl, retreating quickly to my room. Sitting there, eating my late-night snack, I couldn’t stop replaying the moment, the daring, the awkwardness, and the sparks of tension that had turned an ordinary act of cooking noodles into something electrifying. I could feel how wet and responsive I had become just thinking about the way our eyes had met, and I knew I was aroused. My nipple was stiff, and the memory alone sent another shiver through me.

I was really afraid she might look at me strangely, but thankfully, everything was normal even though we ran into each other during the day. She didn’t act weird at all.

Sensitive

Is it true that guys are ridiculously sensitive to a touch on their thighs? I found out just now, and honestly, I wasn’t planning to tease him or anything, it was just a total accident.

Xav and I were sitting on the couch, just watching TV, nothing naughty in mind. His mom was around, so I wasn’t even thinking about doing anything flirty. I reached for my water bottle, and somehow my hand brushed his thigh, really close to… well, you know, in that area. It only lasted two seconds, and I barely even thought about it at the moment.

But wow, his body reacted instantly. It was that immediate, caught-off-guard kind of response, the kind that makes you realize even tiny, innocent touches can have a big effect. I felt a little thrill run through me, partly from surprise, partly from the unexpected reaction.

Ends up, after 2 more commercial break, I realized that the brief accidental touch had left him unusually flustered. He will on and off nudge me, and before I knew it, we ended up heading back to his room to relieve his pain.

So guys, let me know, does this really happen to you too, or was it just a fluke?

After Wedding

I went to a colleague’s wedding last evening, the kind of elegant celebration where everyone’s dressed to impress. I chose a black padded maxi dress, long and flowing, yet fitted enough to show off my curves. For this night, I went braless, letting the dress provide just enough support, and kept a thong on for minimal coverage.

The deep neckline revealed just enough cleavage, adding a subtle touch of daring while still looking classy. Some of you guys do notice, even when I went braless or wore padded clothing, I would usually wear nipple stickers, especially for big events like this, to stay comfortable and avoid accidental attention, but that night, I decided to skip them, wanting to feel bold, daring, and just a little mischievous.

The wedding itself was beautiful. The venue was softly lit, tables adorned with flowers, music floating through the air. I mingled and laughed, catching up with ex-colleagues I hadn’t seen in months. Most of my coworkers were there, including my bosses, so I kept my composure, elegant and poised, but under the surface, I was buzzing with a private thrill, the knowledge that I was braless under my dress, that every sway of the fabric hugged me just so, daring and free.

At one point, two of my close female colleagues leaned in and teased me about my cleavage, whispering playful comments and nudging me with sly smiles. I laughed, pretending to be modest, but inside I was thrilled, the attention only added to the mischievous energy I was carrying all night.

The ceremony went smoothly, the speeches were heartfelt, and the dancing was fun. I kept things classy, interacting with everyone normally, all while secretly enjoying the bold, daring freedom of my outfit. The gentle sway of the fabric and the hint of cleavage made me feel flirty, mischievous, and alive

By the end of the night, as the festivities wound down, I decided to head home when the rest decided to go for round two. Xav had gone to Shanghai for a meeting, and part of me missed his presence but also enjoying the freedom, which added a twinge of daring to my mood. I booked a Grab, sliding into the back seat with a playful sense of mischief.

Sliding into the back seat of the Grab, I could already feel the slight arousal from the evening, thanks to the teasing from my colleagues, the wine and the daring freedom of being braless under my black maxi dress. The driver was focused on the road, polite and professional, completely unaware of the little game I was about to play.

I purposely chose the middle seat, even though I was wearing a long dress, giving me full freedom to move and tease. I leaned forward slightly, under the pretense of wanting to feel the cool air from the air-conditioning, letting the top of my dress shift and sway teasingly across my chest. Every motion was deliberate, a playful invitation hidden in plain sight, daring the driver to notice without being obvious.

Tilting my head and brushing my hair over one shoulder, I let the dress cling and move with every subtle shift. Every tilt of my shoulder, every casual adjustment of my posture, was part of the secret thrill, a bold, mischievous game in an otherwise ordinary moment. The quiet hum of the engine and the glow of streetlights outside made the tension between us electric and charged.

I let out a soft, exaggerated sigh, leaning forward just a little more, as if trying to get the cool air to hit me fully, letting the fabric of my dress sway and brush against me in the most tantalizing way. The thrill of teasing someone without them fully realizing it, of being daring and playful in public, made my pulse race.

Sadly, the driver didn’t look at me once, his eyes firmly on the road, continuing to drive as if nothing unusual was happening. That only made the game more deliciously frustrating and thrilling. The audacity of my movements, the teasing sway of my dress, all unnoticed by him, yet fueling my own mischievous excitement.

Trust me, I stayed in that position for a good 3 to 5 minutes, just enjoying the sway of the fabric and the tease, while the driver remained completely focused on the road, oblivious to my little game.

By the time we were almost home, I decided to take my little game one step further. I slid over slightly in the seat, letting the long fabric of my black maxi dress drape naturally, giving me just enough space to move. My pulse quickened, the thrill of doing something so daring in public made my heart race.

With careful, subtle motions, I slipped my hand beneath the dress, found the string of my thong, and eased it down. It was such a mischievous, playful move, a naughty secret that no one else would ever know. The rush of excitement, bold and teasing, sent shivers through me.

The driver never glanced my way, focused entirely on the road. That obliviousness only made the moment more intoxicating, the thrill of my daring little secret pulsing through me. I leaned back slowly, letting the dress settle over me, savoring the sway of the fabric and the mischievous energy I’d built.

Before I alighted, I tucked my thong neatly into the side pocket of the door, a tiny, playful memento of my daring little game. I couldn’t help but grin, imagining him finding my “little present” after his shift, completely unaware of the bold mischief that had just taken place.

One link to another

Guys, I think Xav is getting bolder by the day.

Last week, on a weekday evening, I went jogging with Xav at Labrador Park. I wasn’t expecting anything naughty, especially since I’d just finished my period. But out of nowhere, Xav grabbed my butt and asked for a quickie. Despite the surprise, I could feel his excitement growing under his shorts. Two days without sex had clearly made him eager.

As we headed down the stairs, the idea of a quickie outdoors gave me a thrill. We found a secluded hut, away from the main path, and made sure no one was watching, no CCTV, no passersby. Xav wanted to make a hole in my black Nike leggings instead of pulling them down. I hesitated at first, worried about ruining my only pair, but his expert fingers and the promise of a new Lululemon pair convinced me.

As he carefully tearing up a hole, my arousal built up. The anticipation was intoxicating and thanks to the way he tried to tear my legging, I was stimulated by the touching. 

Once the hole was big enough, Xav didn’t waste time, he pushed through immediately. The sudden sensation made me moan, feeling my wetness seep through the fabric. 

As he thrust repeatedly, it didn’t take long for him to climax. I could feel him swelling inside me, and within second, he pulled out and his release spilled onto my thigh, leaving a sticky mess. To my frustration, he even wiped himself on my leggings afterward.

Once he was done, Xav worked his magic with his fingers, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. His fingers were gentle at first, slowly sliding inside me, exploring every inch with a tender, deliberate touch. I could feel each stroke stirring a deep heat that spread from my core out to every nerve ending. His fingertips traced my inner walls, circling spots that made my breath hitch and my pulse race.

The sensation was unlike any other, a delicious tension building with every flick and press of his skilled fingers. My body responded instinctively, squeezing around him, desperate for more. I felt my wetness increase, pooling warmly and slickly, mixing with the cool air outside.

The pressure built and built until finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. With a shuddering gasp, my legs gave way beneath me, and waves of pleasure crashed through my body. It was overwhelming, an intense, shattering release that left me trembling. The thrill of being so exposed in the open air, combined with Xav’s expert touch, made it one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had outdoors.

While we were tidying up, Xav suggested trying it again in an open park, right under the moonlight. My first instinct was to scold him, but secretly, I loved the idea.

Over the following weeks, we searched for the perfect secluded spot for our moonlit adventures. We considered places like the Botanic Gardens and Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve, but both felt too exposed, too risky with potential visitors or wildlife.

Eventually, nostalgia brought us back to a familiar yet unexpected place, a quiet patch of grass where years ago, I’d lost my thong during a wild moment (if you’ve read my post, you’ll know which spot). Returning there felt poetic, like reclaiming a piece of the past while making a new memory.

So yesterday, we went for it.

As we approached the secluded area, my heart raced with anticipation, and a bit of fear. It’d been a while since I’d visited, and I wasn’t sure if anyone would be around at night. The thrill of doing something naughty in a semi-public place was exhilarating.

We parked nearby and walked toward the grass patch’s center. The moon wasn’t at the top yet, and the nearest streetlamp was distant enough to keep us in shadow.

After scanning for any humans or factories, Xav spread out a mat. As soon as we settled, he didn’t hesitate, his hands roamed my tit, slipping under my black spaghetti top (no bra underneath), while our lips met in heated kisses. His touch sent electric jolts through me, and I could feel my nipples was more harden under his fingers.

He stripped me slowly, each movement unhurried, as though savoring the moment. My top slid over my head, his knuckles brushing against my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Then came the bottoms, peeled down inch by inch until they slipped free, leaving me in nothing but the thin black thong ( I specially wore a Micro thong )

His fingertips followed the edge of the thin fabric, lingering where I was already throbbing, circling and teasing until my arousal seeped through the material. Gently, he slid the thin strip of my G-string to the side and shifted closer, kneeling beside me. His fingers drifted over my folds, moving in soft, deliberate circles that made my whole body tremble with anticipation. Then he gently slid one finger inside me, slow and deliberate, as if learning every curve and contour. The sensation was electric, the cool air mixing with the warmth inside, every movement deepening the delicious tension building between us.

I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud as he expertly curled his fingers, hitting that perfect spot that made my knees weak and my breath catch ( I was still kneeing).  His touch was patient, teasing me mercilessly, making me ache for more.

Just as I was on the edge of a shuddering orgasm, he removed his finger and pressed himself against me, his erection warm and heavy through his swimming trunk ( Yes, I forced him to wear it ). 

He then positioned me into doggy-style before pulling out his dick and slid inside me. The cold night air contrasted with his heat, making every thrust feel intense and unforgettable. I could feel myself stretching around him, every movement awakening new waves of sensation.

As Xav thrust into me, the cold night air contrasting with the heat of his body made every movement feel electric. His rhythm was strong but impatient and I know he wasn’t going to last long. I could feel the tension building inside him, each deep thrust pushing him closer to the edge.

Suddenly, he pulled out and without warning, came right there. His warm cum splattering across my ass. The sensation was both shocking and intensely erotic. I wasn't really prepare for him to be that fast. The sticky warmth contrasting with the cool air on my skin.

As I were cleaning his cum with a tissue, Xav guided me to stand( I thought he was going to help me wipe) and his hands were everywhere again before removing my G-string totally, exposing me fully to the night and to him. At that moment, I was afraid as I was totally exposed but he did not give me a chance to rest. He slid two fingers inside me, slow at first, tracing gentle circles that made my breath hitch. Then, he began to move them with increasing urgency, curling them expertly to hit every sensitive spot.

The combination of the cool night breeze on my exposed skin, the full exposure and the warm, wet pressure of his fingers inside me sent waves of pleasure radiating through my body. I felt my muscles tighten around him instinctively, desperate for more, while his thumb rubbed softly against my clit, sending sharp jolts of sensation that made me squirm.

His touch was teasing and relentless, fingers shifting rhythm like knowing exactly what would break me. My breaths came faster and more ragged, and I could feel my hips begin to buck involuntarily as I built toward the edge.

Just as the tension became unbearable, his tongue joined in, hitting that perfect spot again, and with a shuddering cry, I came hard. My whole body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over me. My legs went weak, and I sank slightly into him, trembling but utterly satisfied.

Xav smiled and started to kiss on my neck softly, while his fingers still gently stroking my sensitive spots as I caught my breath.

After my orgasm, Xav’s fingers slowed, then gently withdrew, leaving me trembling and breathless. We stayed there for a good half hour, more or less, just lying close together on the mat under the night sky. I was still in nothing. My skin still tingling from everything that had just happened. The cool air brushed against my heated flesh, making me shiver in that delicious way, the contrast sending sparks through me.

I was way too wet to even think of wearing back my shorts, and Xav, with a knowing smile, told me it was fine to just walk back to the car like that, no shorts, but just my top and G-string. It was a little scary but incredibly exhilarating. I managed to put back my top before leaving the area. Every step felt bold, the night air cooling my flushed skin, and the soft whisper of fabric against my bare legs reminding me of how exposed I was.

As we got into the car and started driving, the night quiet around us, I noticed a few groups of people hanging out along the roadside, some smoking, some chatting casually. Their silhouettes lit by distant streetlights.

Suddenly, a wave of nervous excitement washed over me. Had they heard my moans? or seen any hint of what we’d just done? The thought sent a thrilling shiver down my spine.

Xav caught my eye with a mischievous grin, squeezing my hand gently. “If they did,” he whispered, “well, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart still pounding from the night’s adventure. The risk, the rawness, it all made the experience unforgettable.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.