Blonde Cutie Fucks a Complete Stranger In His Car

Blonde Cutie Fucks a Complete Stranger In His Car He was built, like he’d been carved out of marble. His shoulders were broad, his chest defined, and his abs looked like they’d been chiseled by Michelangelo himself. The other guys were still laughing about who owed who a soda or something dumb, but I was standing there, stunned, trying not to collapse under the weight of what I had just felt… and what it meant. My eyes darted back to my chest, but the damage was done. The showers were the real kicker. When he found my most private entrance, he pushed in, and I saw stars. It was overwhelming, impossible to process how good it felt. I leaned against the cool tile wall, trying to catch my breath and make sense of what had just happened. I could barely think, let alone respond. But I didn’t. Open, exposed, no curtains, no privacy. I gasped—loudly. “So if you wanna level up quick,” he said casually, like we hadn’t just shared the weirdest shower moment of my life, “you gotta work on grip control. His other hand reached up to my shoulder, massaging it gently, like he was helping me ride the waves of confusion and sensation that were crashing through me. “Uh oh,” he said, drawing out the words like he was savoring my embarrassment but then he offered guidance. My stomach flipped. Not in fear—but in something way more confusing. “Sure,” I muttered, trying not to squeak.