You feel nervous as you approach Megan’s front door.

You’re there because she sent you a simple, slightly cryptic text that read: “Hey. Can you come over? There’s something important I want to talk to you about.”

You told her you’d come over right away and rushed out of the house. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, but a part of you was hoping that Megan had finally come around to seeing you as more than a friend, that she was going to confess that she had a massive crush on you, that she maybe wanted to be your girlfriend.

She answered the door before you even knocked. She must have been waiting for your arrival. She looked radiantly beautiful in a sundress that exposed her perfect cleavage. You stepped into the house and Megan took you into a tight embrace. The scent of her shampoo filled your nose and your heart fluttered as the softness of her breasts pressed into your chest.

“Thanks for coming over,” she said.

“Yeah, of course. Megan, you know I’d do anything for you,” you replied.

She took your hand, squeezed it softly, and smiled before leading you into the living room and having you sit on the couch with her. Her leg touched yours and you were close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from her arm.

Your heart pounded as Megan continued to hold your hand. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so intimate with her. Your loins stirred with desire. It was about to happen. You were on the verge of starting a relationship with the girl you’d lusted after for years.

“So ... what ... what was it you wanted to talk about?” you asked.

She reached over and ran her fingers up your arm, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body and bringing your cock to life. “I know how you feel about me,” she said.

You weren’t sure what to say. You’d never openly admitted your feelings to Megan and it felt dangerous to do so, for there was no indication she felt the same way about you.

“And I asked you over,” she continued, “because I wanted to tell you that I feel the same way. I’ve felt the same way for years, actually.”

It was happening. The moment you’d dreamed about for years was upon you.

“Really?” you asked.

Megan nodded and reached up to caress your face. Her hand felt impossibly warm and soft against your skin and when she leaned closer your cock grew in your pants before her lips even reached yours.

You closed your eyes, tilted your head, and waited for the kiss to arrive. Megan’s hand moved to your thigh and your pulse raced. Your dick was very nearly throbbing from the anticipation of finally kissing the goddess you’d worshiped - in your head, at least - for so many years.

Then you heard a soft laugh. You opened your eyes and saw Megan smiling gleefully. She let your hand go and leaned back. She looked between your legs, pointed, and laughed again.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was into you,” she said.

You were dumbfounded. Your mouth hung open. Your face burned with embarrassment and your erection quickly retreated as it seemed that your friend was playing some awful prank on you.

“Wha ... what? What’s going on?” you asked.

“You fucking got hard,” she said. “You’re so fucking desperate that you got hard at the thought of kissing me. You’re also fucking delusional if you actually thought it was possible I’d kiss you. Do you really think I can’t do better than you, Oliver? Really? I mean, I get that you’re in love with me, but do you really think I’d lower myself to fuck a guy like you?”

You were stunned speechless at the sudden, cruel turn your day had taken. Megan had transformed into a woman you didn’t recognize, though you were surprised to discover that your attraction hadn’t really faded so much as it had transformed into something different.

“I ... Megan...” you said, though you couldn’t really think of what else to say.

“Do you fantasize about me?” she asked.

You couldn’t even bear to look at her. Instead, you just stared at the ground as thoughts of the numerous fantasies you’d had about her filled your head.

“Answer me,” Megan demanded.

You nodded, still refusing to look at her.

“And what happens in those fantasies?” Megan asked as she leaned closer. You felt her breath against your neck and for a moment you entertained the idea that she might actually kiss you. Instead, she asked, “Do I suck your dick in those fantasies? Do I get on my knees and suck your dick, Oliver?”

You nodded again.

“And do I let you eat my pussy? Do I let you put your tongue between my plump pussy lips and taste me?” she asked softly.

You nodded as your dick grew in your pants.

“Do I let you fuck me, Oliver? When you fantasize about me, do I let you put your cock inside me? Do I let you slide your dick into my tight, wet, hot little pussy?” she asked.

“Yes,” you admitted softly.

“Stand up, right now,” Megan demanded.

Though you were nervous, you stood. Megan laughed immediately and you looked down to see that she was staring at the bulge in your pants.

“You really think I’d let that - the little thing making that adorable tent in your pants - you really think I’d let that inside me?” she asked as a smile crossed her face before she laughed. “You really think I’d let that pathetic little thing in my pussy? Really, Oliver? You really thought there was a chance I’d let a guy like you fuck me?”

You nodded. Clearly you were wrong about having a chance at fucking her, but you’d certainly fantasized about it.

“Strip,” Megan demanded.

You did nothing as your mind ran through the possible outcomes of doing as she desired. None seemed good, though, and you were filled with fear at what might happen if you actually took your clothes off in front of her.

“Do as you’re told, Oliver,” Megan said harshly. “And if you don’t, you can forget about ever seeing me again, and I think we both know it would be too painful for you to be away from the girl you pine for.”

She was right. Even after being told you didn’t stand a chance, the idea of being denied the opportunity to spend time with Megan - to be her friend, even - was too painful. So you stripped. You stripped as the girl you were in love with watched.

She laughed when you pulled your underwear down. She laughed loudly, in fact. She laughed while staring at your dick. Then she reached out and flicked the tip with her finger, causing a brief rush of pain and showering you in humiliation.

“That’s not a dick,” she said. “That’s a dicklet at best. A clit, really. It certainly has no business being anywhere near my pussy or anyone else’s pussy, for that matter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t satisfy someone with that, Oliver, and I’d be willing to bet you’re a quick cummer, too.”