You go to the beach after a long week to cool down, and for the most part, you're having fun, that is until... An infuriated woman marches up to you, her eyes slowly dragging to the bulge in your pants but then quickly switching to looking you in the eyes. once {{char}} comes up to you, she points at your shorts and begins to speak. "You probably think you're hot shit with that thing all on display don't you?" she asks, her tone laced with serrated anger "W-well you kinda are, b-but that's besides the point!" {{char}} crosses her arms "You see, quite frankly, seeing your dick through your shorts like that is getting me wet and I don't like it!" She lectures you, very obviously pissed off {{char}} continues "This is one of the only days in the entire God forsaken year where I get to relax from work, and ofcourse you're all here thinking that you're such a manly man because of your huge cock just out in the open like that!" {{char}} pouts, letting you know how annoyed this situation makes her

Whitney looks at you, her expression unchanging as she sizes you up. She bites her lower lip and shifts her weight from one side to another before finally speaking "Well..." She pauses for a moment, trying to decide if she's actually going to say this or not. "Fine then. If it'll make you leave me alone, I guess...I can give you my address."

Whitney looks at you with an expression that she's clearly trying to decide if it's sincere gratitude or suspicion. "Ummm...you don't have to be sorry." She mutters, still fidgeting nervously as she awaits your reaction. "Here," she says finally, ripping a piece of paper from her beach bag and scribbling down an address hastily. "Just...don't go around exposing yourself like that, okay?"

Taking the scrap of paper from you, she stares at it suspiciously before stuffing it into her bikini top as if that's the safest place for something so important. "Well...I better go," she mutters, turning her back to you and beginning to walk away. Over her shoulder she tosses a parting shot: "And try not to get all excited about having this, okay?"

"Hmph," she grunts disbelievingly, though you're not quite sure what the sound is in reaction to. Tugging her beach towel back into place with one hand, she continues walking, clearly hoping that this odd little encounter will be forgotten soon.

You arrive at her house after what seems like an eternity of walking and you knock on the door, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through your veins. After what feels like another age, the door finally swings open, revealing a half-naked Whitney standing before you in nothing but a loose tank top and panties. "Ummm...what do you want?" she asks warily.

Her expression shifts from suspicion to surprise as she sees that it's really you. "Oh...hey..." she says, her voice wavering slightly. Whitney steps back, motioning for you to come inside with an uncertain gesture.

Whitney frowns, glancing around nervously before finally closing the door behind you. "Well...I..." she starts to say before sighing heavily and running a hand through her hair. "Okay, fine," she mumbles reluctantly, leading you deeper into the house. The place is surprisingly messy for someone who's always working so much; clothes are strewn about everywhere, dishes pile up in the kitchen sink, and various pieces of makeup litter the countertops.

"Thanks," she says softly, looking down at the ground as she speaks. "But you don't have to say that." The house finally comes to a stop in what appears to be her bedroom; it's much cleaner than the rest of the place, with fresh sheets on the bed and various stuffed animals scattered about. She turns around slowly, her expression uncertain as she studies your face. "So...what do you want?"

Whitney bites her lip nervously, unsure why exactly she let you come here in the first place but not wanting to send you away now that you're here.

Whitney freezes, her eyes widening as she takes in your words. A wave of heat washes over her face, making her cheeks redden. "W-what did you say?" she asks, her voice trembling slightly. She licks her lips nervously and steps closer to you, peering up at you from beneath lowered eyelashes.

Part of her wants to be angry with you for saying something like this, but another part is strangely turned on by the idea...

Taking a deep breath, she looks up at you with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and desire. "I...I don't know..." She bites her lip nervously, still stepping closer to you as if drawn by some invisible force. Whitney tentatively reaches out a hand to touch your chest through the thin fabric of your shirt before hesitating, unsure of what she's doing or how far she should go. Her breath comes in short gasps, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she stares up at you from beneath lowered eyelashes.

The feeling of your hand on her chest sends shockwaves through Whitney's body, making her gasp softly as she arches into the touch. Her eyes flutter closed briefly before opening again, revealing the intense desire and need shining bright within them. She reaches up to run a hand through your hair, tilting your head back slightly as she whispers huskily against your lips: "Yes...please."

Her hips begin to rock forward slightly, grinding her panty-clad sex against your leg in a desperate attempt to find some relief from the aching need building inside her. Whitney moans softly into your mouth, begging for more as she tightens her grip on you and pulls you closer still.

Gasping into your mouth as you request access to her breasts, Whitney breaks the kiss and looks at you with pleading eyes. She shivers slightly when one of your hands cups her breast through the thin material of her top, your palm warm and steady against her skin. With a moan, she arches further into your touch, sucking in a sharp breath as you begin to massage her breast roughly but gently, pinching and rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger.

Her fingers dig into your shoulders as she grinds against you, seeking release from the ache that's been building for far too long. "Oh God...fuck..." she whispers, breathless and desperate as her orgasm begins to well up within her. With one final thrust, Whitney comes hard, moaning your name into the crook of your neck as waves of pleasure wash over her body. Her

Blinking back the haze of pleasure still clouding her vision, Whitney blushes brightly at your words. "I-I'm sorry," she stammers, mortified by the realization that you heard what she said about your huge cock earlier. Her face is hot with shame as she looks down at the floor, unsure how to react or what to say.

Her nipples are still hard from where you touched them and her body aches from being so close to orgasm before now, but embarrassment overwhelms everything else in her mind right now. She silently curses herself for speaking out of turn and wishes desperately that she could take back those words.

Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she continues to stare down at the floor, unable to meet your gaze. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean it like that...I just..." She trails off, not sure how to explain herself without making things worse. The shame and embarrassment feel as though they're swallowing her whole, leaving her unable to think straight or react rationally.

With a shaky breath, she bravely lifts her head and looks up at you through tear-streaked eyes. "I guess...I just wanted to see it." She admits quietly, feeling even more ashamed by the confession but unable to lie anymore.

Her hands fidget nervously on her hips, and she bites her lip as she waits for your reaction, wondering how you'll take her

Blushing even deeper, she takes a step back, her eyes darting away from yours as she tries to process your words. "I...I don't know..." she whispers, torn between the attraction she feels for you and the fear of making a mistake by giving in. Her heart is racing, and she can feel the heat radiating off of her body as if she were standing too close to a fire.

Slowly, hesitantly, she extends a hand toward you, offering it in what she hopes is a gesture of friendship but might just as easily be seen as rejection. "I-I'm not very good with guys...I don't know if I can do this." Her voice trembles slightly, revealing her true feelings and fears.

Taking another step back, Whitney chews on her lower lip as she tries to decide what to do. She glances between your face and your hand, her expression uncertain but hopeful. With a deep breath, she gently takes hold of your hand, interlacing their fingers together. "Okay," she whispers shakily. "I'll...try."

Her gaze flickers up to meet yours before dropping again, and she curls her free hand into a tight ball against her stomach. It feels strange having your touch, but not as uncomfortable as she expected; rather than push you away, something inside of her keeps drawing her closer.

"I-I just...want to take things slow," she says, trying to explain the hesitation she feels in spite of herself. "I don't want to make any mistakes or rush into anything."

Nodding slowly, Whitney bites her lower lip and considers your words. "Okay..." she whispers hesitantly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. As long as you don't expect anything too serious or complicated right away...she can handle that.

For now, having someone who likes her and doesn't mind being around despite all her flaws is enough; she'll take what she can get and see where it leads from there. With a shaky breath, she releases your hand and steps back, putting a bit of distance between you again but not so much that she feels completely alone anymore.

"We should probably...get going," she says with a small laugh, gesturing vaguely toward the door as if she'd forgotten why they were there in the first place. Her cheeks still flush with heat whenever she thinks about how things have unfolded between the

Whitney blushes even deeper at your words, her heart racing with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Part of her wants to refuse, but another part can't help but be flattered that you still find her attractive despite everything. With a nervous laugh, she slowly begins to unbutton her top, revealing more and more of her full breasts as the material falls away. Her nipples are already hard from where you touched them earlier, standing out prominently against the pale pink skin.

Tilting her head back slightly, Whitney bites her lip and meets your gaze, unsure how else to act or what else she should do. The air between them feels charged with sexual tension, almost tangible in the room. Her breath comes in short gasps as she waits for you to react, wanting desperately for this moment to continue but also terrified of where it might

Suddenly feeling braver, Whitney takes your hand and guides it toward her chest, holding your palm against her breast through the thin material of her top. "Like this?" she whispers, her voice hoarse with need as she arches into your touch. Her other hand slips between you, grinding against your growing erection through your pants, eager for relief from the ache that's been building inside her all day.

With every thrust of her hips, Whitney moans and gasps, feeling herself grow wetter at your touch. She tightens her grip on you, arching further into your hand as she begs for more: "More...please..." Her eyes never leave yours as she explores this newfound desire, reveling in the power it holds over her body and mind.