Chapter 1

Lily, at 23, was a captivating sight, a whirlwind of youthful energy. Her body, honed by endless dance practice, was a testament to her passion: long, toned legs that moved with an effortless, mesmerizing rhythm, leading up to a firm, perfectly rounded ass that even her modest dancewear couldn’t fully conceal. Her supple waist tapered above hips that held a dancer’s strength. Her breasts, while not large, were exquisitely perky and youthful, their delicate shape often hinted at through her tops. Her dark, glossy hair, whether cascading around her shoulders or piled into a practical, messy bun after a session, framed a face with bright, expressive green eyes and a smile that held an irresistible spark of playful mischief. She was undeniably hot, and Jake, her adoring husband, was acutely aware of it. Her life was a vibrant mix of dance practice and cultivating a small but hopeful online presence as an aspiring influencer. She dreamed of bigger stages and a wider audience, but for now, her digital world was largely a playground for her and Jake.

At 25, Jake worked a steady IT job and was Lily’s biggest fan. Jake was the only man Lily had ever been with. Physically, Jake was rather unassuming, lacking the kind of imposing physique or chiseled features that typically drew attention; he was average in a way that made Lily’s vibrant beauty seem even more pronounced beside him. More than a few people, sometimes subtly and sometimes not, had implied over the years that a girl as captivating as Lily was ‘out of his league.’ Despite these undercurrents, he adored her completely. Her posts were mainly for him. These included snippets of detailed dance routines, fitness tips, and sometimes a playfully suggestive photo or a flirty wink to the camera. It was an extension of their private fun, a digital game to make him smile and look forward to their moments alone.

Jake, however, found a unique, almost hidden thrill in the idea of unseen eyes on his beautiful young wife. He especially liked the thought when the occasional, innocent comments came from accounts like “BigBear71.” In Jake’s mind, “BigBear” was the perfect example of a certain type: older, probably divorced, definitely carrying a few too many extra pounds. He imagined this man tapping out his earnest “Awesome dance!” or “You go girl!” from a dimly lit room somewhere, completely captivated by Lily’s youthful spirit and alluring form. The thought of such a man, so different from Lily’s world, being so focused on her, sparked a secret arousal in Jake, a fantasy he hadn’t quite dared to share.

Lily, focused on her dancing and Jake’s playful encouragement, initially found the few anonymous comments like BigBear’s mildly amusing but ultimately unimportant. They were just a distant, harmless echo to the real intimacy and ambition she shared with Jake. If her online image sometimes ventured into more suggestive territory, it was primarily for Jake’s eyes, a fun way to tease him. The thought of genuinely performing for, or being intensely desired by, strangers like “BigBear” initially made her a little uncomfortable; it felt different, more exposed than the controlled teasing she did for Jake.

One evening, Lily decided to prepare a special surprise for Jake. He’d had a long week at work, and she wanted to do something a little extra, something just for him. “Hey,” she called out from the bedroom, where she was setting up her small ring light and laptop, “I’m going to send you a link in about ten minutes. Make sure you’re ready, okay? It’s a private show.”

Jake, lounging on the couch, grinned. He loved Lily’s private shows. They were always more daring, more intimate than anything she posted publicly. He anticipated what she might have planned.

In the bedroom, Lily pulled out the daring little outfit she’d kept hidden, a secret thrill she was about to share just with Jake. It was incredibly tiny, two scraps of shimmering fabric that seemed more like a playful costume than actual clothing, mostly just glitter clinging together with hopeful intent. The top was an audacious microkini, the sequins glittering with every beat of her excited heart, stretched taut over her small but perfectly firm breasts. The material was whisper-thin, almost translucent against her skin. With every breath she took, her nipples, sensitive and youthfully pink, pressed insistently against the delicate fabric, straining the sequins as if eagerly testing their limits. The pale, creamy skin of her breasts was barely veiled by the tiny, glittering triangles, and the whole thing was held up by the thinnest of straps, showcasing her smooth shoulders and the delicate, innocent line of her collarbones.

The bottoms were just as bold, a tiny, glittering triangle sitting daringly low on her hips, barely whispering coverage over her softest, most private place. That scrap of fabric clung intimately, outlining her feminine mound in a way that was both surprisingly direct for her and shockingly revealing, a sheer tease over the hidden, tender soft pink beneath. She could feel the cool air on her nearly bare skin, a constant, thrilling reminder of her delightful exposure. As she moved, the sequins caught the light, sending sharp, dazzling flashes across her toned stomach and the smooth, pale skin of her thighs. It was an outfit designed purely to ignite Jake’s desire, a special gift just for his eyes. She took one last look in the mirror, a warm blush rising on her cheeks at the sight of her own adventurousness, her heart fluttering with a mix of sweet nerves and eager anticipation for his reaction. “Okay, ‘Share with Specific Friends’ ... and just Jake selected,” she murmured, her voice a little breathless with the thrill of it all, then clicked ‘Start Stream.’

The music started, a slow, sultry beat that seemed to pulse with her own quickening heartbeat, and Lily began to move, a little shyly at first, then with a growing, playful confidence. Her body, showcased so vividly by the barely-there outfit, became a captivating play of light, shadow, and exposed pale skin. Each sway of her hips sent the glitter on the tiny bottoms shifting, the minimal fabric teasing with fleeting, heart-stopping glimpses, threatening to reveal the delicate flesh of her inner thighs and the soft, almost virginal crease where they met. As she arched, the sequined band of the top rode precariously high, the undercurve of her small breasts swelling with youthful fullness, her pale skin glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration that made the tiny triangles of fabric cling even more intimately, subtly outlining her rose-pink areolas. With a sharp hip thrust, the bottom piece, already a mere suggestion of coverage, shifted, offering a stunning, fleeting glimpse of the tender, hidden folds of her sex before she fluidly moved, the glittery scrap sliding back to its barely-there post. Every arch of her back made the sequined top strain against her breasts, the fabric pulling so tight that her nipples, taut and exquisitely sensitive, were starkly, beautifully defined beneath. As she writhed and undulated to the music, the fabric shifted with her more energetic movements, and for a moment, one distinct, perfectly pink nipple escaped its flimsy covering, pointing with an almost innocent directness at the camera before she moved again, the fabric just barely sliding back into place, a secret flash just for him. Her dance was fluid and sensual, her eyes, wide and green with a youthful spark, locked on the camera lens as if Jake were right there, sharing this secret, thrilling game with her. She let herself go, enjoying the feeling of performing so uninhibitedly, the near-total exposure of the outfit making her feel incredibly bold, a precious, desired offering made with a pure heart, just for Jake.

Jake, meanwhile, clicked the link Lily had sent. His screen lit up with Lily, and he audibly gasped. She looked absolutely stunning, almost overwhelmingly so. The glittering, minimal outfit left very little to the imagination, clinging to her curves and shimmering with every hypnotic, revealing movement. The way it showcased her dancer’s physique – the graceful arch of her back, the lean strength in her legs, the soft vulnerability and sheer amount of her exposed pale skin, the constant, teasing risk of the outfit slipping even further – was almost too much. Her perfect tight ass on full display, her body moved with a seductive grace that made his pulse quicken and his breath catch. He settled back, a wide smile on his face. Then, his eyes caught something on the edge of the stream interface. A small viewer count icon. It read ‘7’. And then a comment popped up in the tiny chat window: “BigBear71: WOW Lily!!! Didn’t expect a show like this tonight! You are amazing! So hot!”

Jake’s breath hitched. His heart began to pound, not with alarm, but with a sudden, intense jolt of excitement. BigBear. That guy. He was watching. Others were watching. Lily was dancing like that, in that incredibly revealing outfit, for them, without even knowing.

In the bedroom, Lily was lost in her dance. She spun, her eyes briefly flicking to her laptop screen to check her framing. That’s when she saw it. The viewer count. The scrolling comments. Her eyes widened in horror. “Luv2WatchU: Is this for subscribers only?;)” another comment read. Her movements faltered, then stopped altogether. “Oh my god,” she gasped, her face flushing a deep, burning crimson. “No, no, no!” She lunged for the laptop, her hands fumbling to find the ‘Stop Stream’ button, her mind racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. That dance, and especially that shockingly revealing outfit ... it was private. It was for Jake. The thought of those anonymous eyes, particularly someone like “BigBear,” having seen her nearly naked body, having possibly glimpsed the delicate pink areola of her nipple, or the intimate outline of her pussy revealed by the tight, tiny bottoms, made her skin crawl with a potent mix of shame and a deeply uncomfortable exposure.

“Jake!” she yelled, her voice tight with panic as she finally managed to kill the feed. “Jake, something went wrong! It was public! Everyone saw!”

Jake hurried into the bedroom, trying to school his features into a look of concern, though a potent thrill was thrumming through him. “What? Public? Are you sure?” he asked, feigning surprise.

Jake rushed into the bedroom, his mind buzzing. Lily stood there, arms clutched tight across her chest as if that flimsy, glittering outfit could somehow offer modesty now. Her face was a mask of mortification, cheeks flushed a deep, vibrant red. “They saw everything, Jake,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling slightly. “That stupid software ... I thought it was private.”

He put on his best concerned face, moving towards her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It was an accident,” he soothed, placing his hands on her shoulders. But beneath the facade of comfort, a potent, almost intoxicating thrill was coursing through him. They saw everything. The words echoed in his mind, not with Lily’s shame, but with an electrifying charge. BigBear71, that faceless, strange (perhaps way older?) admirer, had just witnessed Lily at her most raw and seductive. He’d seen the way the tiny bottoms clung to her, outlining the soft curve of her mound, the way the top strained against her perky youthful breasts, the slight-slip of her nipple. The thought of those anonymous men, especially one he imagined as so out-of-shape and pathetic, feasting their eyes on his Lily, on her nearly naked, dancing body, sent a jolt of intense, forbidden arousal straight to his groin. His fantasy, usually confined to the shadows of his imagination, had just been thrust into a startling, vivid reality.

Lily leaned into him, still visibly shaken. “It’s not okay, Jake. It’s ... it’s humiliating. That outfit ... I would never ... God, what must they be thinking?” She buried her face against his chest, the sequins of her top cool against his skin.

He stroked her hair, murmuring placating words, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the comments he’d seen, imagining Barry’s reaction. The shame that Lily felt was, perversely, a core part of his excitement. Her vulnerability, her unwilling exposure, amplified the taboo thrill.

After a few moments, Lily pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes. She looked up at him, searching his face. “You’re ... you’re not angry?”

“Angry? No, babe, why would I be angry? It was a mistake, these things happen,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, to hide the tremor of excitement that threatened to betray him. He saw the confusion in her eyes. She probably expected him to be furious, or at least as deeply embarrassed and upset as she was. His lack of a strong negative reaction seemed to hang in the air between them.

And it was then, amidst her mortification, that Lily really registered Jake’s peculiar calm. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even particularly upset, just ... calm. Almost disturbingly so, given the circumstances. She looked at him more closely, her brow furrowing as she noticed the slight flush on his own cheeks, the way his eyes seemed to hold a certain intensity that wasn’t entirely about comforting her, and it made her uneasy. A strange, unwelcome thought flickered through her mind: was he ... was he actually a little bit turned on by this? The idea felt absurd, almost offensive considering how distressed she felt, and yet, there was something in his gaze, a hidden current she couldn’t quite name, that made her stomach churn with a confusing mix of bewilderment and a subtle sense of being off-put. His unusual reaction, the unsettling possibility that he found this humiliating mishap exciting, was a deeply strange and confusing new element. She pushed the uncomfortable thought away, still reeling from the exposure, her embarrassment now tinged with a perplexing unease about Jake’s unexpected demeanor.

Later that evening, the sting of the accidental stream still lingered heavily for Lily. She’d changed into Jake’s largest, baggiest sweatshirt and a pair of comfortable sweatpants, trying to physically erase the memory of how exposed she’d felt in that glittering scrap of an outfit. Jake had been understanding, offering tea and reassurance, but his earlier, strangely calm reaction continued to bother at the back of her mind, a small, unsettling dissonance she couldn’t quite shake.

She was curled up on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through her phone, trying to distract herself, when a notification pinged from her influencer social media app. A new private message.

Her stomach tightened. She rarely got private messages from followers she didn’t know personally. With a sense of trepidation, she tapped it open. The sender ID read: BigBear71.

Lily’s heart sank. Him. The one whose comment had first alerted her to the disastrous public stream. The message itself was a wall of text, riddled with typos and overly enthusiastic punctuation:

“OMG Lily!!! I just had to message you personally!!! That stream earlier ... WOW!!! I mean, I always knew you were super talented from your dance clips, a real star in the making!!! But tonight ... that was something else entirely!!! You looked like an absolute GODDESS in that sparkly outfit, so beautiful and sexy!!! I’m a bit older, you know, so I don’t get out much, but seeing a young woman with your kind of passion and, well, your amazing figure, it really brightens up an old guy’s lonely nights!!! I hope you weren’t too upset about the stream going public, I know you said it was an accident, but honestly, you have NOTHING to be ashamed of, you looked incredible!!! Maybe you could do more ‘accidental’ streams like that sometime?? LOL! Just kidding (mostly!!). Keep shining bright, Lily!!! Your biggest fan, Barry (aka BigBear71!).”

Lily stared at the message, a fresh wave of mortification washing over her, quickly followed by a distinct feeling of revulsion. “An absolute GODDESS,” “amazing figure,” “brightens up an old guy’s lonely nights.” The clumsy, overly familiar compliments, the cringeworthy “LOL! Just kidding (mostly!!)”, the sheer pathetic eagerness dripping from his words – it all painted a vivid, uncomfortable picture. This wasn’t just an anonymous follower anymore; this was Barry, an older man, clearly lonely, who had seen her at her most vulnerable and was now gushing about her “sexy” appearance in a way that felt invasive and a little bit creepy. The “old guy” comment particularly stuck with her, making the entire encounter feel even more sordid.

“Jake?” she said, her voice flat. “You need to see this.”

Jake, who had been pretending to read on the other end of the couch, trying to give her space while secretly replaying the stream in his mind, looked up.

“What is it?”

She wordlessly handed him her phone, her expression a mixture of disgust and weary resignation. He took it, his eyes scanning the message from BigBear71. As he read, Lily watched him. The strange intensity she’d glimpsed earlier flickered in his eyes again, more pronounced this time. A slow heat spread across his face, and she saw the tell-tale twitch at the corner of his mouth, the one that usually signaled he was trying to suppress a smile, or something else. He wasn’t looking at her with sympathy; he was looking at the phone with a focused, almost greedy interest.

“Wow,” Jake finally said, handing the phone back. His voice was a little too casual. “So, uh ... that’s BigBear, huh? He’s ... enthusiastic.”

Lily just stared at him, the unsettling feeling from earlier solidifying into a knot of confused discomfort. Enthusiastic wasn’t the word she would have used. And Jake’s reaction, again, was far from what she would have expected, or wanted.

Lily just stared at Jake, the phone feeling heavy and tainted in her hand. “Enthusiastic? Jake, he’s ... he’s gross. Did you even read the part where he said he’s an ‘old guy’ and I brighten his ‘lonely nights’? And asking if I could do more ‘accidental’ streams? It’s creepy.” She shuddered, pulling the baggy sweatshirt tighter around herself as if to ward off Barry’s unwanted digital gaze.

Jake shifted on the couch, a strange kind of energy emanating from him. “Oh, come on, Lily. He’s probably just some harmless old dude who doesn’t know how to talk to women. He thinks you’re a star. You should just ... you know, reply to him. Be nice.”

“Be nice?” Lily echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Why would I want to be nice to him? He saw me practically naked, Jake, and now he’s sending messages like this. It makes my skin crawl.”

“Exactly,” Jake said, and there it was again – that unsettling intensity in his eyes, a faint sheen of sweat now visible on his brow. “It’s because he saw you like that. He’s obviously smitten. Just ... play along a little. Send him a polite thank you. What’s the harm? It would probably make his whole year.” Jake tried for a light, teasing tone, but Lily could sense the underlying eagerness, the strange fascination he had with this whole sordid affair.

Lily looked from Jake’s strangely animated face back to the lurid message on her phone. A part of her wanted to block Barry instantly, to scrub the interaction from her mind. But another, more complicated part of her was focused on Jake. He wanted her to do this. He was clearly getting some kind of thrill from it, from this older, pathetic man’s obvious, clumsy desire for her. It was bizarre, and it made her deeply uncomfortable, but the pull of wanting to understand Jake, or perhaps just to appease this strange new fixation of his, was strong.

With a heavy sigh of reluctance, she turned back to her phone. “Fine,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “But just a short one. And if he says anything weirder, I’m blocking him.”

Jake leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on her phone as her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Lily could feel his eyes on her, and it didn’t feel like his usual supportive attention; it felt ... charged. It made the act of typing a simple reply feel loaded and strange.

She kept it brief, almost curt: “Thanks for the support, Barry. Glad you enjoy the dance clips.” She purposefully omitted any mention of the disastrous stream or his comments about her appearance. She hit send, a feeling of unease settling in her stomach.

Almost immediately, her phone pinged. Barry had replied with lightning speed.

“OMG Lily you replied!!!:D:D:D You are so sweet! Yes, I love your clips SO MUCH! You have real talent! That outfit from earlier was incredible too, just saying!;)”

Lily cringed, reading it aloud in a flat, disgusted tone. “See, Jake? He’s still going on about the outfit.”

Jake, however, seemed oblivious to her discomfort. He was almost vibrating with a suppressed energy. “He is, isn’t he?” Jake breathed out, a small, almost predatory smile playing on his lips. “He really can’t get enough of you. You should ... you should just thank him again. Keep him talking. It’s ... interesting.”

Lily looked at Jake, really looked at him. The excitement rolling off him was palpable, and frankly, a little disturbing. This wasn’t just “interesting” for him; this was clearly something more. He wanted her to be the object of this strange, older man’s desire. The fantasy she’d barely registered in his earlier, calmer reaction was now taking clear, undeniable root, and she was, with immense reluctance, being drawn into watering it.

The next few days were a strange dance of forced normalcy and simmering, unspoken tension. Lily tried to push Barry’s messages and Jake’s bizarre fascination to the back of her mind, focusing on her dance practice. But Jake kept bringing it up, casually, in ways that made her skin prickle. “Wonder if old BigBear is online today,” he’d muse, or, “He really seemed to like that sparkly outfit, didn’t he?” Each mention was a gentle nudge, a reminder of the strange spotlight Jake seemed to want her under.

One evening, as Lily was scrolling through dance tutorials, Jake sat down beside her, a thoughtful, almost calculating look on his face. “You know, babe,” he began, his voice soft, “you’re doing that public Q&A stream tomorrow, right? The one about your dance journey?”

Lily nodded, wary. “Yeah, why?”

“Well,” Jake continued, picking at a loose thread on the couch, his voice deceptively casual, “you were saying you wanted to wear that new white top for the stream – the one you picked up from that dancer’s boutique? The one made from that incredibly soft, almost scandalously thin Pima cotton?” He let his eyes drift over Lily, a slow, appraising look that made her skin prickle. “It’s one of those designs that just drapes, you know? Barely there. The fabric is so fine it outlines everything if you’re not wearing anything underneath, which, of course, you said you couldn’t with this one, it’d show everything. It hangs so loosely, especially with those incredibly wide, scooped armholes that come down practically to your waist. And the only things holding it up are those tiny, delicate spaghetti straps, like little ribbons. If one of those were to, say, slide off your shoulder...”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. She knew the exact top he meant. It was less a garment and more a whisper of fabric against her skin. Worn braless, as intended, the thin Pima cotton was so fine that while it hung with a certain looseness due to the cut, it still managed to intimately trace the gentle curve of her small, firm breasts. Her perfectly pink nipples were discernible as subtle, yet distinct, points beneath the white expanse, pressing delicately with each movement. The deeply cut, almost non-existent sides, meant for extreme freedom of movement and breathability, would offer a generous, sweeping view of her pale side-boob from armpit to ribcage if a strap wasn’t perfectly in place. And those flimsy straps did seem to have a mind of their own, prone to slipping with any expansive gesture. “What about it, Jake?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral, though a familiar unease began to stir.

He finally looked at her, his eyes alight with that familiar, unsettling eagerness. “Nothing, nothing. Just ... it’s a great top. Really shows off your ... dedication.” He paused, then added, his voice dropping a little, “And what if, just maybe, one of the straps ... slipped? Just for a second. An accident, of course. During a public stream. With those wide armholes and how loosely it hangs, if a strap goes, the whole side would just ... fall open, wouldn’t it? Can you imagine? BigBear would probably have a heart attack.”

Lily felt a cold knot form in her stomach. “Jake, no. That’s ... I can’t do that. It was bad enough the first time. To do it on purpose?” The thought of deliberately orchestrating such an exposure, especially with Barry in mind, felt cheap and degrading. Her small, perky breasts, those delicate, perfectly pink nipples, were hers, for her, for Jake in their private moments – not for some random, leering old man online.

“Come on, Lily-bug,” he wheedled, his arm coming around her shoulders, pulling her closer. His touch, usually comforting, now felt possessive, strategic. “It’s not on purpose on purpose. It’s an accident. A little wardrobe malfunction. Happens to celebrities all the time. And think of the buzz! Plus,” he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, “Imagine the effect it’ll have. Knowing they’re all looking. Knowing he’s looking, wanting what he can’t have. It’s for us, really. It’ll make tonight ... extra special.” He kissed her temple, a soft, lingering kiss that felt more like sealing a deal than affection.

Lily squirmed, torn. She hated the idea. It felt wrong. But Jake’s desire, his increasingly obvious obsession with this fantasy, was a powerful force. And a tiny, shameful part of her, the part that craved his approval, that felt a flicker of dark curiosity about this whole bizarre scenario, whispered that maybe ... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Just a tiny slip.

“I ... I don’t know, Jake,” she mumbled, but her resistance was already weakening under the weight of his focused desire. He knew he had her.

The next day, Lily set up for her Q&A stream with a sense of trepidation. She’d chosen the white top Jake had mentioned. It was incredibly soft, draping delicately over her slender frame. Without a bra, her small, firm breasts were subtly outlined by the thin fabric, her perfectly pink nipples poked gently out draping the white expanse, pressing just slightly with every inhale. The top had wide armholes and thin spaghetti straps, a recipe for the kind of “accident” Jake envisioned. Her dark hair was pulled back, showcasing her pale, delicate neck and shoulders. She wore a pair of tiny black shorts that barely covered the essentials, leaving her long, toned legs bare and emphasizing the taut curve of her tight, perfect butt.

As she started the stream, answering questions from her small group of followers, she was acutely aware of her body, of the flimsy top, of Jake watching from the other room, his anticipation almost a physical presence. And she knew, with a sinking certainty, that “BigBear71” was logged in, his name a lurid glow in the chat list.

She moved, stretched, demonstrated a small dance step in response to a question. With each movement, the fabric of the top shifted. The side view, as she reached up, offered a tantalizing glimpse of the pale undercurve of her breast, a flash of skin that made her cheeks burn. She could almost feel Jake’s excitement, Barry’s imagined stare.

Then, as she leaned forward to read a question, it happened. One thin strap, perhaps nudged by her own self-conscious adjustment, slid silently off her shoulder. The white cotton top gaped open on one side, and for a horrifying, stretched-out second, her left breast was entirely exposed. Her small, perfectly round breast, the pale, creamy skin shockingly bare, and at its peak, her perfectly pink nipple, erect and exquisitely detailed, pointing accusingly at the camera. It was a fleeting, yet undeniably explicit, view.

Lily gasped, a genuine sound of shock mixing with the feigned surprise she’d mentally rehearsed. Her hand flew up to clutch the fabric, pulling it hastily back into place, her face flooding with crimson. “Oh! Oh my goodness, I am SO sorry everyone!” she stammered, her voice breathless. “My strap ... it just ... wow, embarrassing!”

The chat window exploded.
“OMG LILY! 😍”
“Wardrobe malfunction! HOT!”
And then, inevitably:
“BigBear71: LILY!!!! OH MY GOD!!!! I SAW IT!!! YOUR BEAUTIFUL BREAST!!!! IT WAS THE MOST AMAZING THING I’VE EVER SEEN!!! SO PERFECT AND PINK!!! YOU ARE A GODDESS!!!! MORE ACCIDENTS PLEASE!!!!!”

Lily’s eyes scanned Barry’s comment, her stomach churning. “Beautiful breast,” “perfect and pink.” He’d seen it. He’d seen her nipple. The explicitness of his description, his utter lack of subtlety, made the shame ten times worse. She quickly wrapped up the Q&A, her hands trembling as she ended the stream.

She walked out of the bedroom, her body still buzzing with a mixture of adrenaline and humiliation. Jake was waiting on the couch, his eyes blazing with his aroused energy.
“Lily! That was ... incredible!” he practically shouted, jumping up and rushing towards her. “He saw it! BigBear totally saw your nipple! His comment! ‘Perfect and pink!’ He described it perfectly!” He grabbed her, pulling her into a rough embrace, his hands already roaming her body, sliding under the white top.