**”Prom Night Rebellion”**

We were supposed to be pure for each other. That’s what I thought, at least. I’d spent months talking to Aurora about how special our first time would be, how we’d wait until we were truly ready, take it slow, make it perfect. She always smiled and nodded, her big green eyes locked on mine like she agreed—like she wanted the exact same thing.

But halfway to prom, parked in the shadow of an empty grocery store lot, I realized I’d been fucking naïve.

Aurora’s phone had been buzzing nonstop for the last ten minutes, her fingers tapping fast against the screen as she bit her lip. I tried to focus on the road, but the way her thighs kept squeezing together in that tight black dress was making it hard.

“Who’s texting you so much?” I finally asked, trying to sound casual.

She exhaled, slow and deliberate, like she was bracing herself. “Caleb.”

My stomach dropped. Caleb—the senior quarterback who’d been flirting with her all semester, the same guy who’d smirked at me in the locker room when I told him Aurora and I were waiting.

“He, uh… he wanted to know how the dress looked.” She tilted the phone toward me, and my breath caught. It was a picture of her—same dress, same red lipstick—but her fingers were slipped under the hem, hiking it up just enough to show bare thigh.

I swallowed hard. “You sent him that?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she shifted in her seat, twisting toward me, one hand sliding up her own leg. “He said he wants more,” she murmured. Her fingers grazed higher, the fabric of her dress bunching. “He wants to see all of it.”

My dick throbbed in my pants, painfully hard. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. We were supposed to dance, take cheesy pictures, and maybe—*maybe*—if things felt right, kiss in the backseat after. Not this. Not her teasing some other guy while I sat here like an idiot.

But then her fingers reached the edge of her panties, and she hooked a finger under the lace.

“Fuck,” I choked out.

She smirked. “He said to take them off.” My heart hammered as she lifted her hips, peeling the tiny black fabric down her thighs. The second they hit the floorboard, she spread her legs just enough to let me see—shaved bare, her pussy already glistening.

“He’s gonna want a picture of this, too,” she whispered, reaching for her phone again.

“Wait—” I grabbed her wrist. “You can’t… you can’t *send* that.”

Her other hand slid between her legs, fingertips brushing her clit. “Why not?” she breathed. “You don’t touch me like he tells me to.”

I was gonna explode. She was *playing* with herself, right in front of me, while texting some other guy about it. Her breath hitched as she circled her clit, slow and deliberate, her hips rocking into her own touch.

“You like watching?” she asked, voice gone husky.

I couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

She lifted her phone, angling it between her legs. The *click* of the camera shutter was the loudest sound in the car.

And then she sent it.

“Fuck!” I nearly shouted. My cock ached, straining against my zipper. Aurora watched me squirm, her fingers still working her pussy, spreading herself open just to tease me.

“He says you can touch me,” she murmured, like she was doing me a favor. “If you want.”

I didn’t wait. My hand shot out, gripping her thigh, yanking her closer. She gasped as I shoved her dress up to her waist, finally getting a full view—her pussy was soaked, her clit swollen and begging for attention.

“Lick it,” she demanded, fingers tightening in my hair.

I dove between her legs, my tongue dragging up her slit in one desperate stroke. She moaned, hips bucking, grinding against my mouth. She tasted sweeter than I’d imagined, tangy and warm, and I couldn’t get enough. My tongue flicked her clit, fast and sloppy, her thighs clamping around my head as she whimpered.

“Harder,” she gasped.

I obeyed, sucking her clit between my lips, fucking her with two fingers while she arched off the seat. Her phone buzzed again, lighting up with another message, but she barely glanced at it.

“He says… *fuck*… he says he wants to hear you beg to fuck me,” she panted.

I pulled back, my chin glistening with her wetness. “Please,” I growled. “Let me in.”

She reached down, popping the button on my pants, freeing my cock. It twitched in her hand, aching and red.

“You gotta say it like you mean it,” she taunted, stroking me slow.

“*Please,* Aurora. I need your pussy.”

She grinned, lifting her hips, guiding me to her entrance. The second the head of my cock pressed against her, we both groaned.

“Tell him,” she whispered. “Tell him you’re inside me.”

I grabbed her phone, snapping a picture of my dick pushing into her tight little cunt. The moment I sent it, I thrust all the way in, burying myself to the hilt.

Aurora screamed, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Oh my *God!*”

She was so tight, so impossibly hot and wet around me. I fucked her hard, the car rocking with every thrust, her moans filling the space between us.

“He’s—” she gasped, her phone vibrating against the seat. “He’s gonna *cum* watching this.”

That was all it took. The thought of him jerking off to us, to *me* claiming what he wanted—I lost it. My hips stuttered, my balls tightening as I came deep inside her, my groan muffled against her neck.

Aurora clenched around me, her own orgasm hitting hard. She shuddered, her pussy milking every last drop from me, before collapsing against the seat.

The phone buzzed again.

She reached for it, a lazy smirk on her lips as she read the message. “He says…” She giggled, breathless. “He says good job, virgin.”

My face burned, but my dick—somehow—twitched inside her again.

Fuck. I was in trouble.