Two snowy-white, slender legs—and even a solid curve of her perky backside—were now exposed to Lin Feng's gaze without a shred of cover.
In the dim light, her pale skin gave off an ivory glow, creating a massive visual contrast against the dark padding of the trunk.
This wasn't just "shy"—this was a straight-up, unadulterated invitation.
"Alright, drop the 'innocent act.' Take 'em off yourself," Lin Feng commanded, his voice carrying that "do what I say" edge. He gave the shaving foam can a shake, and with a soft psshh, a dollop of thick, white lather piled into his palm.
"Huh?" Xiaomeng felt like she couldn't even catch her breath.
He wanted her to do something that humiliating... and he wanted her to be the one to initiate it?! The request hit her like a lightning bolt.
But as much as her shame was redlining, the more bossy Lin Feng got, the more she felt an irresistible urge to just submit.
Deep down, she preferred it this way. When a guy is assertive, it makes it feel like she's being forced, which gives her the perfect excuse to let her guard down.
It was way better than those "nice guys" her friends complained about—the ones who are about to close the deal but then ruin the mood by asking, "Is it okay if I come in?" Totally pathetic.
Shame and a weirdly intense thrill duked it out in her head, and eventually, the thrill won.
Trembling, Xiaomeng moved her hands from her face to her waist, pinching the edges of her white cotton panties. She arched her back slightly, lifting her butt off the mat, then closed her eyes and bit her lip as she slowly dragged them down. The smooth fabric slid over her skin, past her knees, and finally off her dainty ankles.
Lin Feng's eyes followed every inch of the movement until the last bit of "modesty" was gone, revealing her tender, untouched slit once more. Just as Xiaomeng was about to toss the small bundle of cloth aside, Lin Feng spoke up coldly.
"Don't throw those. Tuck them under your ass. I don't want you making a mess on my mats."
"Nnh..." Xiaomeng's body went stiff, her face turning an even deeper shade of crimson.
His words were blunt, even a little crude, but they carried a total sense of ownership. She did exactly what she was told, taking the panties—still warm from her body heat—and carefully tucking them under her hips. Then she covered her burning face with her hands again, frozen in place.
"The skirt is getting in the way, too."
Lin Feng frowned at the hem of her skirt near her waist. He reached out, grabbed the fabric, and yanked it up toward her chest.
"Mmph!" Xiaomeng let out a muffled grunt. She instinctively reached down to hold the bunched-up fabric, turning her head away in shame.
This wasn't her first rodeo; last time at the private cinema, Lin Feng had made her hold her skirt up just like this while he did those "dirty things" to her.
"Don't use your hands," Lin Feng said flatly.
"What?" Xiaomeng's eyes snapped open in shock as she looked back at him. Not my hands... then what?
"Open up," he ordered.
"Oh!" It clicked instantly. He wanted her... to hold her skirt in her mouth!
This was a hundred times more degrading than using her hands. But after only a second of hesitation, she obeyed. Since the skirt was short, she had to shuffle her position, pressing her back against the rear of the front seats to sit up slightly so she could manage to grip the hem with her teeth.
In this pose, her entire lower half—from her flat tummy to her long, spread legs—was completely, ruthlessly exposed to him. It was a position of total surrender and humiliation, and it made her whole body feel like it was on fire.
"Good girl," Lin Feng said, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "Now, give me a 'V' for victory with your hands." As he spoke, he couldn't resist pulling out his phone and aiming the camera at her.
Normally, Xiaomeng would have fought him on this. But after the stuff they'd already filmed, what was one more photo? She'd reached a point of "fuck it" submission. She actually raised her white, soft arms and flashed two peace signs next to her cheeks.
Click! The image was frozen.
In the photo, framed by the dark interior of the car, a pure-looking college girl leaned against the seat, skirt clamped in her teeth, flashing cute "V" signs. But her lower half was spread wide, her intimate area fully visible for the camera—a total "innocent vs. depraved" contrast that packed a massive visual punch.
Lin Feng set the phone aside, satisfied. He leaned in close, hovering right between her legs.
He chuckled. "This is just the 'before' photo. I want you to see the results of the scratch-off!" Then, he reached out and used a finger to gently comb through the hair around her slit.
Since Xiaomeng was only a freshman, it wasn't thick at all—just sparse, soft, curly wisps.
Having a man comb through her pubic hair made Xiaomeng wish she could vanish into thin air. She could feel his warm breath ghosting over her sensitive labia, making her body shudder in tiny waves as her "little cave" began to weep nectar.
"Kind of cute," Lin Feng critiqued like he was judging a pageant. Then he dropped a total curveball: "I'm curious—do you wash this part with shampoo or body wash?"
"B-both..." Xiaomeng answered through the fabric of her skirt, her voice sounding like she was on the verge of tears.
She desperately wanted to beg him to just start and get it over with, but there was no way she could say that out loud. It would make her sound like a total slut who couldn't wait. She just bit down harder on her skirt, enduring the long, agonizingly shameful preamble.
"Pretty sensitive, huh? I barely touched you and you're already dripping?" Lin Feng teased, spotting the glistening dew.
"Don't say it... please..." Xiaomeng was shaking violently. Excitement and shame were tangled together so tightly that her brain was a mess. She didn't even know which emotion was winning anymore.
Lin Feng checked the time on his phone. It was time for the main event. He stopped teasing her and took the clump of thick white foam, spreading it gently and evenly around her intimate area. The icy foam hitting her warm skin made her jolt again.
But then, Lin Feng's thumb—acting like it was just a "mistake"—rested right on the seam of her labia. As he rubbed the foam in, he kept sliding it back and forth over the soft flesh.
Then, acting on a sudden wicked impulse, he curled his fingers and began to gently "tickle" her opening.
Suddenly, all four fingers were working in a rhythmic, non-stop scratching motion through the foam. Wave after wave of intense stimulation hit her, making the itch inside her reach a breaking point. He could feel her struggling to hold it together.
Her lower abs were rock hard, her legs were shaking uncontrollably, and her cute little toes were curled in agony—or was it ecstasy?