Kota closed his eyes, the words "oh brother, gg it's over" echoing in his head like a final boss defeat screen he couldn't escape.
The elevator doors had barely slid shut behind Khalil's retreating figure when Corey's hand clamped around his wrist with surprising strength, the femboy's grip warm and insistent, nails digging in just enough to make Kota's pulse jump.
"C'mon, cutie, no time to waste. I got you covered."
Before Kota could even form the sentence about knowing someone else who could give him a ride, Corey was already dragging him out of the elevator and across the lobby, the ripped jeans hugging those massive cheeks and making them sway with every hurried step.
Kota's sneakers scraped against the concrete as he was pulled toward the parking lot, the early morning air still cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of dew on the grass and exhaust from the few cars already leaving the complex.
The black van sat at the far end of the lot like a shadowy beast, its tinted windows and matte finish making it look more like a low-budget horror movie prop than a regular ride.
Corey yanked the sliding door open with a metallic groan, revealing the interior in all its chaotic glory. It was a 7-seater minivan, the kind with the giant trunk space in the back that could swallow half a moving company's worth of stuff. But right now it looked like it had swallowed a convenience store instead. Empty energy drink cans — Monster, Red Bull, some off-brand neon green ones, littered the floorboards and the middle row seats, crushed and dented, a few still leaking sticky residue onto the carpet.
Scattered among them were magazines, pages dog-eared and covers glossy with femboy porn: toned guys with exaggerated bubble butts arched in tiny thongs,
twerking in front of mirrors, close-ups of lace panties stretched over thick cheeks, captions screaming "Breedable Bubble Boy" and "Take It All, King." The air inside smelled like artificial citrus mixed with old sweat and something sweeter, almost like vanilla body spray that had gone stale.
Corey grinned wide as he shoved Kota toward the passenger seat, the femboy's hips bumping against him on purpose so that plump ass brushed his thigh.
"Hop in. Time I finally found out where my favorite cutie goes to school… in a non-weird way, jeez."
He chuckled at his own words, the sound low and playful, climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut.
"I sound like my pedo uncle Billy right now, don't I? Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask you to call me daddy or anything. Yet."
Kota nervously chuckled, the sound forced and thin as he sank into the passenger seat, the leather creaking under his weight.
The mess surrounded him, cans rolling under his feet, a magazine with a particularly explicit cover staring up from the floor mat, and he hoped with everything in him that this was just a regular drive. No biggie. No biggie at all.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath that smelled like energy drink sugar and faint femboy perfume, then reached down and reclined the seat as far back as it would go.
Maybe he could catch some z's on the way.
The engine rumbled to life, the van pulling out of the lot with a slight lurch, and Kota let his head fall back against the headrest, the morning light filtering through the tinted windows in hazy streaks. The road noise hummed low, the occasional bump making empty cans rattle in the back, and for a blissful moment he let himself drift, the exhaustion from the last few days pulling at the edges of his mind.
The car stopped sooner than he expected.
Kota didn't open his eyes at first.
He figured it was just a dawn traffic jam or a red light, the kind that always backed up near the highway on-ramp. He relaxed deeper into the reclined seat, the cool leather against his hoodie, and let out a slow breath. No biggie.
Then he felt it, fingers at the waistband of his baggy cargo pants, tugging them down with surprising speed.
He still didn't open his eyes, assuming the loose pants were just sliding off from the way he was slouched. But the tugging continued, fabric pooling around his ankles, cool air hitting his bare thighs. Then something, or someone, straddled him, the weight settling heavy and warm across his lap, knees pressing into the seat on either side of his hips.
Kota's eyes snapped open.
Corey's naked body hovered over him, the femboy completely stripped, ripped jeans and shirt discarded somewhere in the messy back of the van. His massive ass rested just above Kota's now-exposed cock, the plump cheeks spread slightly from the straddle, the deep cleft glistening faintly in the low morning light filtering through the tinted windows. Corey grinned down at him, eyes sparkling with pure mischief, one hand braced on Kota's chest while the other reached back to guide the thick head toward his hole.
"Sorry cutie, in this car we operate on a simple payment, ass, gas, or grass, and seeing as how you gots no money and need to go somewhere, I suggest you get to fucking!"