Chapter 5

Lacey’s heart raced as she stepped into the dimly lit boutique, the air heavy with the scent of cheap perfume and leather. The store, Vixen’s Vault, was a neon-lit haven of sleazy, slutty women’s clothing, its racks overflowing with fishnet, latex, and barely-there fabrics. Thumping bass from a hidden speaker pulsed through the floor, matching the nervous flutter in her chest.

Dane’s broad, muscular frame loomed beside her, his green eyes glinting with predatory amusement as he scanned the displays. His navy tee clung to his chiseled pecs, and his jeans hugged his thick thighs, the bulge of his eleven-inch cock unmistakable. Lacey’s platinum hair, freshly extended and gleaming like Candy’s from Alpha Dogs, swayed as she glanced at him, her pussy tingling at the thought of pleasing her Big Daddy.

“Pick something out, babygirl,” Dane said, his voice low and commanding, a smirk curling his lips. “Something that shows off what you’ve got. Don’t waste my time with boring shit.”

Lacey nodded, her cheeks flushing as she moved toward a rack of dresses, her sapphire heels clicking on the scuffed floor. Her current outfit—a tight white crop top that bared her midriff and a denim miniskirt that barely covered her ass—already felt risqué, but Dane’s critical gaze demanded more.

She rifled through the hangers, her fingers trembling as she pulled out a red halter dress, its neckline plunging and its hem scandalously short. Holding it up, she bit her lip, imagining how it would hug her hourglass figure, her full breasts nearly spilling out.

“Try it,” Dane ordered, leaning against a display of studded chokers, his arms crossed, biceps bulging. “Let’s see if it’s worth a damn.”

In the cramped changing room, Lacey stripped down, her nipples hardening in the cool air as she slipped into the red halter dress. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin, the neckline dipping so low it barely covered her areolas, her cleavage a deep, inviting valley. The hem stopped just below her pussy, leaving her long legs exposed, her ass cheeks peeking out with every step. She smoothed the material, her pulse quickening as she pictured Dane’s reaction. Stepping out, she struck a shy pose, one hand on her hip, her platinum hair cascading over her shoulders.

Dane’s eyes raked over her, his smirk fading into a critical frown. “Tits look good, but it’s covering too much ass,” he said, stepping closer, his towering presence making her feel small. “You’ve got a perfect bubble butt, babygirl. Show it off. Try again.”

Lacey’s stomach twisted with a mix of disappointment and arousal, her pussy throbbing at his blunt critique. She wanted to please him, to be his perfect slut. “Okay, Big Daddy,” she murmured, hurrying back to the changing room, her heels clicking. Rummaging through the racks again, she found a black latex micro-dress, its design more like lingerie than outerwear. The dress was a series of strategic cutouts, with thin straps crisscrossing her torso, leaving her sides and underboob exposed, and a hem just barely long enough to cover her crotch.

Slipping into it, Lacey gasped at her reflection. The latex gleamed under the fluorescent light, molding to her breasts, the cutouts framing her tits like a porn star’s. Her ass was not entirely bare, but the dress rode up as she moved, her pussy barely concealed. She felt exposed, nervous about wearing this anywhere public, but the thought of Dane’s approval sent a rush of heat between her thighs. She stepped out, swaying her hips, her hands nervously tugging at the hem before letting them fall, letting him see everything.

Dane’s eyes darkened with lust, but his voice stayed sharp. “Better. Ass is fucking phenomenal, but it’s still not slutty enough. You’re my girl, baby. I want every guy in the room drooling, knowing they can’t have you. Pick something that screams ‘fuck me.’”

Lacey’s breath hitched, her clit pulsing at his words, her nervousness spiking. She nodded, her voice a whisper. “Yes, Big Daddy.” Her hands shook as she scanned the racks, desperate to find something that would make him proud. She grabbed a silver sequined bodysuit, its design the sluttiest yet—a deep V-neck that plunged past her navel, connected by thin straps that left her back and sides bare, and a thong bottom that disappeared between her ass cheeks. The sequins glittered, catching every light, and the crotch was so narrow it would barely cover her pussy lips. Trembling, she carried it back to the changing room.

Wriggling into it, Lacey felt like a stripper, her tits pushed up and out, the thong cutting into her hips, her ass fully exposed except for the thin strip of fabric. She paired it with six-inch platform stilettos, their clear acrylic heels making her legs look endless. Her platinum hair glowed against the silver sequins, and she practiced a sultry pout, channeling Candy’s seductive vibe. Stepping out, she strutted toward Dane, her hips swaying, her tits bouncing with each step, her nerves screaming that she couldn’t wear this outside, but her pussy aching for his praise.

Dane’s smirk returned, his eyes devouring her, his cock visibly hardening in his jeans. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, babygirl,” he growled, stepping close, his hand grazing her exposed hip, sending shivers through her. “Tits out, ass shining, pussy begging for it. Fucking perfect. Spin for me.”

Lacey obeyed, turning slowly, her heart pounding as his gaze burned into her. She felt like a prize, a slutty doll crafted for his pleasure, and her pussy dripped at the thought. “Do you like it, Big Daddy?” she asked, her voice breathy, hoping he’d follow her into the changing room, bend her over, and fuck her senseless.

“Like it? You’re a walking wet dream,” Dane said, his hand sliding to her ass, giving it a sharp smack that echoed in the store. “This is you now. My slut. Keep this energy and go find some more shit to wear for me.” His fingers lingered, teasing the edge of the thong, and Lacey’s knees weakened, her eyes pleading for him to take her right there.

An hour later, Lacey’s nerves were frayed, her body a tangle of arousal and anxiety. She stood at the checkout counter of Vixen’s Vault, her platinum hair gleaming under the neon lights, her body poured into one of Dane’s chosen outfits—a hot pink fishnet crop top and matching microskirt set. The top was a web of strings that left her full breasts barely contained, her nipples faintly visible through the gaps, while the skirt, a scant strip of fabric, hugged her hips and ended just below her pussy, her ass cheeks exposed with every step. Clear platform stilettos lifted her to a teetering height, and a rhinestone choker glittered at her throat. She felt every eye in the store on her, the clerk’s smirk, the other customers’ stares, burning her skin as she shifted nervously, her pussy wet from Dane’s earlier praise.

Dane had been ruthless, critiquing her choices with cutting precision. “Too tame,” he’d snarled at a leopard-print dress that covered her thighs. “You’re not a fucking nun, babygirl.” But when she’d emerged in a black vinyl bustier and thong set, the bustier pushing her tits up like an offering, the thong disappearing between her ass cheeks, he’d grinned, his cock hardening in his jeans. “That’s my slut,” he’d growled, smacking her ass. “This one’s a keeper.” He’d selected almost a dozen outfits, each sleazier than the last, and insisted she wear the fishnet set out, ignoring her protests about public decency.

At the counter, Lacey fumbled with her purse, her hands trembling as she handed her credit card to the clerk, a twenty-something with dyed purple hair and a bored expression. The register beeped, and the clerk’s eyes flicked up. “Declined,” she said flatly, handing the card back.

Lacey’s stomach dropped, her cheeks flushing. “Oh, um, let me try another one,” she stammered, digging for her second card, her voice high with panic. She glanced at Dane, his green eyes narrowing, his jaw tightening. The second card swiped, and the register beeped again. “Also declined,” the clerk said, her tone sharper, a faint smirk curling her lips.

Dane’s patience snapped. “What the fuck, bitch?” he barked, his voice loud enough to turn heads. “You can’t even handle your fucking money? How goddamn useless are you?”

Lacey flinched, her eyes stinging as she rummaged through her purse for cash, her fingers shaking. “I-I’m sorry, Big Daddy,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know what happened ... I thought I had enough...”

“You thought?” Dane mocked, stepping closer, his six-foot-three frame towering over her. “That’s your problem, you dumb bitch. You don’t think. You’re a spoiled fucking brat who can’t manage a damn thing.” His words cut through the store, the clerk’s smirk widening, other customers whispering as they watched. Lacey’s humiliation burned, her pussy inexplicably throbbing at his dominance, even as tears pricked her eyes.

Finally, she found a crumpled stack of bills, barely enough to cover the stack of outfits, and thrust them at the clerk, who counted them slowly, prolonging her embarrassment. “All set,” the clerk said, handing over the bags and her meager change with a condescending nod. Lacey grabbed them, her face flaming, and hurried toward the exit, Dane’s heavy steps behind her.

Outside, the evening air was cool, but Lacey’s skin burned with shame as Dane gripped her wrist, dragging her toward his beat-up Chevy in the parking lot. Her stilettos clacked unevenly, her fishnet skirt riding up, drawing stares from passersby. “Why are you being such an asshole?” she cried, her voice loud and desperate, echoing across the lot. A couple nearby paused, their eyes widening at the scene.

Dane spun her around, his hand cracking across her face with a sharp slap, the sound cutting through the murmurs. Lacey gasped, her cheek stinging, her pussy clenching despite the pain. “Because you’re a dumb fucking brat who can’t even keep her shit together,” he snarled, his face inches from hers, his green eyes blazing. “Embarrassing me in there like some broke-ass loser. You’re lucky I don’t leave your dumb cunt here.”

Tears spilled down Lacey’s cheeks, her heart pounding with humiliation and twisted adoration. She stumbled as he yanked her again toward the Chevy, the bags swinging in her hand, the couple still watching, whispering. Dane shoved her into the passenger seat, slamming the door, and stormed to the driver’s side, his rage a palpable force as he started the engine with a roar. Lacey sat silently, her fishnet-clad body trembling, her pussy aching for his approval, even now, as Dane peeled out of the lot, leaving her shame exposed to the world.

Lacey’s cheek still stung from Dane’s slap as the Chevy roared down the highway, the engine’s growl a harsh underscore to her humiliation. Her fishnet crop top and microskirt clung to her curves, the hot pink fabric a glaring reminder of her exposure in the parking lot. Tears streaked her face, smudging her mascara, but her pussy throbbed, traitorously wet from his dominance. She clutched the shopping bags on her lap, her voice trembling as she turned to him, his chiseled profile stern in the dashboard’s glow.

“I’m so sorry, Big Daddy,” she blurted, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “I swear, I didn’t mean to mess up. I won’t fuck up the credit cards again, I promise. Please, I’ll do better, I’ll—”

“Shut up, slut,” Dane cut her off, his voice a low growl, his green eyes fixed on the road. “You’re done with the money. I’m taking over the finances from now on. You’ve proven you can’t handle it.”

Lacey’s heart sank, a fresh wave of hurt and humiliation washing over her. The idea of losing control of the household budget, something she’d struggled to manage as a single mother, felt like a gut punch. “But, Big Daddy, I—” she started, her voice small.

“No buts,” he snapped, glancing at her, his jaw tight. “It’s clearly all you can manage just being my fuckdoll. That’s what you need to focus on from now on. Looking hot, keeping my cock happy. That’s your job, got it?”

Lacey sniffled, her chest tightening, but the finality in his tone silenced her protests. She wiped her tears, nodding meekly. “Yes, Big Daddy,” she whispered, her submission settling over her like a heavy blanket, her pride bruised but her pussy aching with twisted gratitude for his control.

The silence stretched, the Chevy’s rumble filling the void. Lacey’s arousal gnawed at her, her body craving his touch despite the sting of his words. She shifted in her seat, the fishnet rubbing against her sensitive skin, and glanced at the bulge in his jeans. “Big Daddy,” she ventured, her voice soft, pleading. “Can I ... can I give you road head? Please? I just want to make you feel good.”

Dane’s eyes flicked to her, his expression hard. “No,” he said flatly, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. “You don’t get to call the shots after that stunt in the store.”

“Please, Big Daddy,” she begged, leaning closer, her platinum hair spilling over her shoulders, her tits straining against the fishnet. “I need to make it up to you. Let me suck your cock, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

He glared at her, his resolve wavering as she pouted, her full lips glistening. “Fine,” he relented, his voice gruff. “Get to it, you dumb bitch. Don’t make me regret this.”

Lacey’s heart leapt, a rush of relief and purpose flooding her. She scrambled to unbutton his jeans, her fingers deft despite her trembling, and tugged down his zipper, freeing his massive eleven-inch cock. It sprang up, thick and veined, already half-hard, and she moaned softly, her mouth watering. Leaning over the center console, she wrapped her lips around the tip, her tongue swirling over the salty precum, her pussy clenching at the familiar taste of her Big Daddy.

Dane’s hand settled in her platinum hair, his fingers tangling gently, guiding her rhythm. “That’s it, babygirl,” he murmured, his voice softening, the edge of his anger dulled by her submission. “Suck it good.”

Lacey felt a calm wash over her, the weight of her humiliation lifting as she bobbed her head, taking him deeper, her lips stretching around his girth. The Chevy’s vibrations pulsed through her, syncing with the slurping sounds of her mouth, her throat relaxing as she worked him, gagging softly when he hit the back.

Her proper place, she thought, was right here, pleasing her stud, her Big Daddy, her world narrowing to the heat of his cock and the pressure of his hand. She sucked harder, her head moving faster, her tits bouncing in the fishnet, her pussy dripping onto the seat as she lost herself in worshiping him.

Dane’s sneakers pounded the pavement, his breath steady as he jogged through the quiet suburban neighborhood, the early evening sun casting long shadows. His tight black tank top clung to his sweat-slicked pecs, his six-foot-three frame a chiseled monument of muscle, his dark hair damp against his forehead. Cardio was a grind, but it kept his roid-fueled body lean, his eleven-inch cock swinging heavy in his shorts with every stride.

Turning a corner, he spotted a row of cars parked outside the house of Lisa Satkowski, his gorgeous thirty-five-year-old math teacher and the school cheerleading coach. Her place, a tidy two-story with neatly trimmed hedges, glowed with light, and through the windows, he caught flashes of movement—bodies dancing, laughter spilling out. A party.

A smirk curled his lips. Lisa, with her golden blonde hair, full tits, and tight ass, had been teasing his cock for weeks with those lingering classroom glances. If she was hosting, this was his shot. He slowed his pace, wiping sweat from his brow, and strode up the walkway, his green eyes glinting with predatory intent. He knocked hard, the door rattling under his fist.

The door swung open, and Lisa stood there, her blue eyes glassy, her cheeks flushed—from booze, if Dane were to guess. Her long blonde hair was loose, framing her heart-shaped face, and her red sundress hugged her curves, the neckline low enough to show off her cleavage, the hem short enough to flaunt her toned legs. She swayed slightly, a half-empty wine glass in hand, and her face lit up when she saw him.

“Dane! Oh my God, what are you doing here?” she squealed, her voice slurring, her smile wide and sloppy. She stepped forward, grabbing his arm, her fingers digging into his bicep. “You look so ... sweaty and hot. Come in, come in!”

Dane grinned, letting her pull him inside, her body brushing against his, her tits pressing against his arm. “Just out for a run, Mrs. Satkowski,” he said, his voice low, cocky. “Saw the party. Figured I’d crash.”

The stunning blonde teacher playfully shoved his chest, almost tipping herself over in the process. “Dane, I told you to call me Lisa!” she giggled, stumbling again as she tugged him into the living room. “And you’re not crashing, you’re, like, the guest of honor now!” Her breath was sweet with wine, her body radiating heat as she clung to him, her hip grazing his thigh.

The living room was packed with the cheerleading squad, a sea of tight bodies in crop tops, miniskirts, chest-hugging t-shirts, and short shorts, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Dane’s eyes roamed, picking out familiar faces—girls he’d fucked, girls he wanted to.

Sofia Alvarez, the curvy Hispanic captain, lounged on a couch, her black hair spilling over her shoulders, her tits straining against a white tube top. Aaliyah Jackson, with her smooth ebony skin and platinum-dyed curls, danced near the stereo, her ass bouncing in denim cutoffs. Emma Larson, the busty blonde, giggled by the snack table, her green eyes locking onto him. The room buzzed with teenage pussy, and Dane’s cock twitched, his smirk widening.

“Dane!” Sofia called, waving him over, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were coming! You here to steal the show again?”

“Fuck yeah, Sofia,” he shot back, his eyes raking her curves. “You know I don’t share the spotlight.”

Lisa clung tighter, her arm looping through his, her tits squishing against his side. “He’s my guest,” she slurred, pouting at Sofia. “I get first dibs, right, Dane?” She pressed closer, her hand sliding down his arm, her fingers grazing his wrist, her breath hot against his neck.

“Easy, Lisa,” Dane chuckled, his voice dripping with charm. “Plenty of me to go around.” His eyes flicked to Aaliyah, who sauntered over, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Dane Carver, you bad boy,” Aaliyah purred, her hips swaying. “Last time I saw you, you were sneaking out of that classroom with a big-ass grin. You planning to cause trouble tonight?”

“Only the best kind, Aaliyah,” he said, his gaze dropping to her cleavage, remembering how she’d screamed his name in that empty classroom two months ago. “You gonna keep up with me this time?”

She laughed, tossing her curls. “Boy, I’ll wear you out.”

Emma joined them, her platinum curls bouncing, her crop top barely containing her tits. “Dane, you gotta dance with us,” she giggled, grabbing his other arm, her fingers lingering. “Lisa can’t have you all to herself.”

Lisa huffed, her grip tightening. “I’m the coach, I make the rules,” she teased, her voice thick with drunken flirtation. “Dane’s staying right here with me, aren’t you, handsome?” She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear, whispering, “You’re so fucking hot, you know that?”

Dane’s cock hardened, the press of Lisa’s body and the girls’ attention stoking his ego. He scanned the room, noticing the girls’ drinks—Sprite, Coke, ginger ale—laced with a faint boozy tang. Sneaky little sluts, he thought, spotting Hannah Brooks, the blonde co-captain, slipping a bottle of vodka from Lisa’s liquor cabinet behind the couch and pouring it into a pitcher. They were all getting drunk, their giggles louder, their movements looser, their eyes hungrier as they clustered around him.

“All right, ladies,” he said, his voice commanding, his smirk pure alpha. “Let’s have some fun.” He settled onto the couch, Lisa still glued to his side, her hand resting dangerously close to his crotch. Sofia plopped down on his other side, her thigh pressing against his, while Aaliyah and Emma hovered nearby, their flirtatious banter a symphony of temptation. Dane leaned back, his arms spread, his tank top tight against his pecs, his cock straining against his shorts. Surrounded by prime teenage pussy and a drunk, horny MILF, he was in his element, ready to play the night out, his mind already plotting who he’d fuck first.

Half an hour later, Dane’s green eyes glinting with predatory glee as he sipped a spiked Coke, the vodka burn barely registering. Lisa Satkowski was still plastered against his left side, her red sundress riding up her thighs, her full tits brushing his arm as she giggled drunkenly into his shoulder.

Sofia Alvarez, the curvy cheer captain, lounged on his right, her white tube top straining, her caramel skin glowing as she teased him with a playful nudge. Aaliyah Jackson and Emma Larson danced nearby, their tight bodies swaying to the thumping bass, their eyes flicking to Dane, each vying for his attention. The cheerleading squad—over a dozen stunners ranging from fourteen to eighteen—filled the room, their crop tops and miniskirts a buffet of teenage pussy, many of whom Dane had fucked, their flirtatious giggles stoking his cock’s relentless hunger.

“God, Dane, your arms are insane,” Lisa slurred, her hand squeezing his bicep, her blue eyes glassy with rum and lust. “Like, how do you even get this big?” She leaned closer, her breath hot against his neck, her tits pressing harder.

“Hard work, Lisa,” Dane smirked, flexing subtly, his bicep bulging under her fingers. “Wanna feel something real?”

Sofia laughed, tossing her black hair. “Oh, he’s gonna show off now,” she teased, her brown eyes sparkling. “Come on, Dane, give us a show. Prove you’re as strong as you look.”

“Yeah, let’s see the gun show!” Emma chimed in, bouncing over, her platinum curls flying, her green eyes locked on his physique. “Bet you could lift us all.”

The room erupted in cheers, the girls crowding closer, their drinks sloshing. Aaliyah clapped, her platinum curls bouncing. “Do it, Carver! Show us what those muscles are good for!” Her dark eyes gleamed with challenge, her denim cutoffs riding up her ass as she leaned in.

Dane’s smirk widened, his ego swelling. “All right, ladies, you asked for it.” He stood, towering over the room, and struck a double-biceps pose, his arms exploding with veins and muscle, his tank top straining.

The girls squealed, but Lisa, drunk and bold, grabbed his arm. “Lift us!” she demanded, swaying. “I wanna see you hold up some cheerleaders, stud.”

“Pick me!” Sofia called, jumping up, her tube top slipping slightly, her tits bouncing.

“Nah, me!” Emma countered, shoving forward, her crop top barely containing her curves.

Dane scanned the room, his eyes landing on Hannah Brooks, the blonde co-captain, her icy blue eyes wide with excitement, and Mia Tanaka, the petite freshman, her big brown eyes sparkling. “You two,” he said, pointing. “Let’s make this fun.”

Hannah and Mia giggled, stepping forward. Dane crouched slightly, flexing his biceps, and each girl hooked her arms around one of his arms, their slender bodies dangling as he straightened, lifting them effortlessly. Hannah’s lean frame swung on his left, her blonde hair swaying, while Mia’s compact, toned body hung on his right, her black hair bouncing. The room roared, the girls clapping and whistling, Lisa stumbling to her feet to cheer.

“Fuck yeah, look at that!” Aaliyah shouted, snapping a photo with her phone. “Dane’s a damn beast!”

“God, you’re so strong,” Lisa purred, her hand grazing his abs, her sundress slipping to reveal more cleavage. “I bet you could carry me too.”

Dane grinned, lowering Hannah and Mia, who landed with giggles, their hands lingering on his arms. His cock throbbed, the attention feeding his dominance, but his gaze drifted to the edge of the crowd.

Lily Nguyen, the shy fifteen-year-old sophomore cheerleader, stood by the snack table, her glossy black bob framing her delicate face, her dark eyes wide as she watched him. Her petite, curvy body was poured into a tight lavender crop top and a pleated white miniskirt, her flawless complexion glowing under the party lights. Unlike the others, she hadn’t flirted or approached, her quiet presence a stark contrast to the bold sluts surrounding him. Her innocence, that nervous bite of her lip, sent a jolt to his cock. He wanted to ruin her.

As the girls dispersed, some heading to refill their spiked drinks, Dane sauntered toward Lily, his eyes devouring her tight body—her perky tits pushing against the crop top, her skirt hugging her rounded hips, her slender legs begging to be spread. She froze as he approached, her fingers clutching a cup of Sprite, her eyes darting up to meet his.

“Hey, Lily,” he said, his voice low, dripping with charm, his six-foot-three frame looming over her five-foot-two height. “You’re looking real cute tonight. Why you hiding over here?”

Lily blushed, her cheeks pink, her voice barely above a whisper. “Oh, um, I’m not hiding,” she stammered, tucking a strand of her bob behind her ear. “Just ... watching. You’re, like, really strong.”

Dane smirked, stepping closer, his chest inches from her, his sweat-soaked scent enveloping her. “You like that, huh? A guy who can handle business?” His eyes flicked to her tits, then back to her face, catching her nervous swallow.

“I-I guess,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping to her cup, her fingers trembling. “It was cool, the way you lifted them.”

“Cool’s one word for it,” he said, leaning in, his voice a husky tease. “Bet I could lift you too, sweetheart. Wanna find out?”

Lily’s eyes widened, her blush deepening, but a shy smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe,” she said softly, her voice shaky but intrigued. His cock lurched in his shorts, her innocence a fucking aphrodisiac to him.

“How ‘bout we take a walk?” Dane suggested, his hand grazing her arm, his touch sending a shiver through her. “Get some air. There’s a path out back, goes into the woods. Just you and me.”

Lily hesitated, her eyes flicking to the crowded room, then back to him, his green eyes locking her in. “Um, okay,” she whispered, nodding nervously. “Sure.”

Dane’s cock twitched, his smirk pure predator as he led her through the kitchen, past Lisa, who pouted but was too drunk to protest, and out the back door. The night air was cool, the paved path behind Lisa’s house winding into a dense patch of woods, the party’s noise fading as they walked. Lily’s heels clicked softly, her skirt swishing, her nervous energy palpable. Dane’s hand rested on her lower back, guiding her, his touch possessive.

When they were out of sight of the house, the trees closing around them, Dane stopped, turning her to face him. Without warning, he pushed her back against a thick oak, its bark rough against her shoulders. His lips crashed onto hers, hungry and bruising, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. Lily gasped, her body stiffening, shocked by his aggression, but her hands clutched his tank top, her lips softening as she moaned faintly, reciprocating the kiss, her innocence melting under his dominance.

“Fuck, you’re sweet,” Dane growled against her mouth, his hands roaming, one cupping her tit through her crop top, squeezing hard, the other sliding under her skirt to grip her ass, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. Her nipple hardened under his palm, her ass perfect in his grip, his cock rock-hard against her hip.

“D-Dane,” Lily whimpered, her voice trembling as she pulled back slightly, her dark eyes wide. “Slow down, please ... it’s too fast...”

He ignored her, his lips claiming hers again, his hand kneading her tit, pinching her nipple through the fabric, making her gasp. “You’re too fucking hot to go slow,” he muttered, his other hand sliding between her thighs, brushing her panties, feeling the damp heat of her pussy. “You want this, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Lily moaned, her body trembling, torn between fear and arousal, her hands pushing weakly at his chest but her hips arching slightly into his touch. Dane’s fingers pressed harder, molesting her tight body, his strong hands relentless, his mind fixed on breaking her innocence right there against the tree.

Dane’s hand slid beneath Lily’s pleated white miniskirt, his fingers brushing the damp cotton of her panties, feeling the heat of her pussy. He groaned, his cock straining against his shorts as he pushed the fabric aside, his thick fingers probing her slick folds. Lily’s body tensed against the tree, her lavender crop top riding up, her perky tits heaving as she gasped, her Vietnamese features wide with panic.

“Dane, please, stop,” she whimpered, her voice trembling, her small hands pushing at his wrist. “I-I’m not ready ... it’s too much...”

“Fuck, your pussy’s so tight,” Dane growled, ignoring her protests, his fingers plunging deeper, curling inside her, drawing a reluctant moan from her lips. Her wetness coated his hand, her body betraying her as he finger-fucked her under the skirt, his thumb grazing her clit, making her shudder. “Look at you, getting wet for me. You’re so fucking hot, Lily.”