Matt finally looses his virginity

[jasmine18]

Teaser: Olivia flinched when Matt stepped closer, her back hitting the oak’s rough bark. The hem of her singlet had ridden up further, exposing the dip of her navel.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Title: Matt finally looses his virginity
Author: jasmine18
Chapter Tags: Eng, Unfinished, NonCon, Short, Gang
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This is chapter 1, just seeing if anyone is interested if i continue

Chapter 2 - Chapter 2
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Matt finally looses his virginity

Olivia captured


The cicadas were loud tonight, vibrating through the thick summer air like a distant, relentless buzz saw. Francis wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his fingers brushing against Olivia’s as they walked side by side along the cracked pavement of the park path. She smelled like strawberry shampoo and something faintly citrusy, maybe her sunscreen. Her denim shorts hugged her thighs just right, and the hem of her white singlet had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of tanned skin above her hip.

Olivia laughed at something Francis said, something stupid, probably, and nudged him with her shoulder. He wasn’t tall, but he carried himself like he didn’t care, grinning as he reached over to tug playfully at her ponytail. The park was mostly empty tonight, just the occasional flicker of fireflies and the distant hum of traffic bleeding through the trees. Their sneakers scuffed against the pavement, leaving faint marks in the dusty heat.

Somewhere behind them, voices rose in laughter, sharp, uneven, the kind that came from too many drinks on a hot night. Olivia glanced back just once, catching glimpses of three figures under the flickering orange streetlight. Bottles clinked, and one of them stumbled forward, but she turned back to Francis, dismissing them. Just drunk Adults, Nothing to worry about.

Matt wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning as Tony elbowed him hard enough to make him sway. "Look at that," Mark slurred, pointing toward Olivia’s retreating figure. "That’s Francis. Kid’s got no business with a girl like that. How does an 18 year old looking that get an 18 year old beauty who looks like that. " Matt’s throat tightened. He’d never even touched a girl the way Francis was touching Olivia now, fingers brushing her waist like he owned her. The thought burned hotter than the whiskey in his gut.

Tony snorted. "Must have money or something. Ain’t no way she’d be with him otherwise." His words dripped with certainty, as if the logic was unassailable. Matt’s fingers twitched around his bottle. Olivia’s hair swayed as she laughed again, the sound carrying through the humid air like wind chimes. He could practically smell her from here, strawberries and summer sweat. His stomach twisted.

Mark leaned in, grinning. "Bet you wouldn’t even know what to do with her, huh, Matt?" He jabbed a finger into Matt’s ribs, hard enough to make him wince. "Still got that damn V-card." The others erupted into laughter, loud and jagged. Matt’s face burned. He took another swig, the liquor searing his throat like punishment.

Francis and Olivia had stopped by the old oak tree now, its gnarled branches casting crooked shadows over them. Olivia was leaning against the trunk, her white singlet catching the dim glow of the streetlight, her skin golden and smooth. Matt wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He could feel the acne on his cheeks prickling under the heat, his own bulk heavy and awkward compared to Francis’ wiry frame.

Tony nudged Matt again, breath sour with cheap beer. "Look at her," he muttered, his grin all teeth. "Wouldn’t even know where to stick it, would you?" The words curled into Matt’s gut like a fist. No girl ever gave him a second glance, too big, too quiet, too much like a shadow lurking at the edges of parties. Olivia’s laughter drifted over again, light and careless, and something cracked inside him.

Mark cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders like he was gearing up for a fight. "Let’s make it interesting," he said, low and rough. "Teach Francis a lesson." He didn’t wait for an answer, just started forward, his footsteps crunching over dry grass. Tony followed, tossing his bottle aside with a clatter. Matt hesitated, pulse hammering, but the weight of their expectation, the chance to finally be one of them, pushed him after.

Olivia noticed them first, her smile freezing as the three figures emerged from the shadows. Francis turned, his body instinctively shifting in front of her, but Mark was already there, shoving him hard against the oak trunk. "What’s the hurry?" Mark grinned, his breath thick with liquor and menace. Francis winced, his hands coming up in defense, but Tony grabbed his wrists, pinning them easily. "Relax," Tony sneered. "We’re just here to help your boy out."

Olivia’s eyes darted between them, her pulse thudding in her throat. "Leave him alone," she said, voice wavering. Matt stood a little behind the others, his fingers twitching at his sides. The air smelled like hot asphalt and spilled beer, but beneath it, he caught the sweet scent of her shampoo. Strawberries. His stomach lurched.

Tony tightened his grip on Francis’ wrists, grinning when the smaller guy hissed in pain. "See, Matt? This is how you handle things," he said, nodding toward Olivia. "Go on. Teach him how it’s done." Mark shoved Francis harder against the tree, bark scraping his back. Olivia’s breath hitched as Matt stepped forward, his shadow swallowing hers.

Matt’s hands trembled at his sides, sweat beading along his hairline. Olivia’s hazel eyes flicked to his crotch, then away just as fast, her lips pressing tight. Mark barked a laugh. "Five inches and shaking like a fucking leaf!" He grinned, nudging Tony. "Kid’s gonna blow his load before he even gets close." Tony smirked, twisting Francis’ arm until the guy whimpered. Matt’s face burned hotter than the whiskey in his gut.

Olivia flinched when Matt stepped closer, her back hitting the oak’s rough bark. The hem of her singlet had ridden up further, exposing the dip of her navel. Matt’s throat dried. He could see the outline of her bra through the thin fabric, the way her chest rose and fell too fast. "Please," she whispered, but the word tangled in the cicadas’ drone. Mark cackled. "Listen to that. Begging already." Tony dragged Francis to his knees, forcing him to watch.

Francis thrashed against Tony’s grip, his voice raw. "Don’t, don’t fucking touch her!" The words cracked halfway. Mark kicked him square in the ribs, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Olivia cried out, lurching forward, but Matt caught her wrist. Her skin was slick with sweat, her pulse fluttering like a trapped bird under his fingers. He’d never held a girl this way. His grip tightened.

Mark crouched beside Francis, grinning as the smaller guy gasped for air. "Look at him," he jeered, grabbing a fistful of Francis’ hair to yank his head up. "Little man thinks he’s tough." Tony barked a laugh, planting his foot between Francis’ shoulder blades to keep him down. Francis’ face twisted, tears cutting through the dust on his cheeks. Olivia whimpered, her free hand clawing at Matt’s arm, but he barely felt it.

Tony dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out a thick plastic cable tie. The white strip gleamed under the streetlight as he knelt behind Francis. Olivia let out a choked sob when Tony wrenched Francis’ arms back, looping the cable tie around his wrists with a sharp, practiced jerk. The plastic bit into skin as Tony tightened it, Francis’ shoulders straining unnaturally. "There," Tony muttered, securing the ends around the oak’s gnarled trunk. Francis bucked, hissing as bark scraped his back. "Now he gets a front-row seat."

Mark grabbed Olivia’s other wrist, yanking her forward so abruptly her sneakers scuffed against the dirt. She stumbled, colliding with Matt’s chest. The smell of strawberries flooded his nose, sweet, cloying, mixed with the sharp tang of her fear. Her breath hitched against his collarbone. "Stop," she whispered, but Mark just laughed, twisting her arm behind her back. The denim of her shorts stretched taut over her thighs as she struggled, her singlet riding up further to expose the delicate ridge of her hipbone.

Tony leaned in, his breath hot and sour against Olivia’s ear. "Think you can handle her, Matt?" He dragged a finger down her bare arm, making her shudder. "She’s softer than she looks." Olivia flinched when Matt’s fingers brushed the hem of her singlet, his touch hesitant, clumsy. The fabric was damp with sweat, clinging to her skin. Mark jerked her arm higher, forcing her onto her toes. "C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t wanna know what’s under there," he taunted, grinning when Olivia let out a choked gasp.

Matt’s pulse roared in his ears. Olivia’s breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples stiff under the thin white fabric. He could see the lace edge of her bra where her singlet had slipped, the dark contrast against her tan skin. "Bet you’ve jacked off to girls like this," Tony sneered, shoving Matt’s shoulder. "All those times you watched her walk by, huh? Thought about pulling those shorts down?" Mark twisted Olivia’s wrist until she whimpered. "Now’s your chance, buddy. Show us what you’re made of."

Olivia twisted in Matt’s grip, her sneakers kicking up dirt. "Get off, !" Mark wrenched her arms higher behind her back, bending her forward with a brutal jerk. Her black hair tumbled over her face, muffling her next cry. Matt’s fingers shook as he fumbled with the button of her shorts. The denim was warm from her skin, the metal clasp

Tony grabbed Olivia’s wrists, twisting them together in one meaty hand while the other clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream. "Shut up and take it," he growled against her ear. Olivia thrashed, her elbows jabbing uselessly against Tony’s ribs. Her hazel eyes locked onto Francis, still tied to the tree. His face was slick with tears, his lips forming words Olivia couldn’t hear over the cicadas’ drone.

Mark sauntered over to Francis, kicking a clod of dirt at his knees. "Bet you thought you were hot shit, huh?" He crouched, grabbing a fistful of Francis’ hair to yank his head up. "Little man with his little girlfriend." Francis spat weakly, the saliva barely reaching Mark’s sneaker. Mark laughed, wiping the sole on Francis’ thigh. "Look at him, can’t even spit right." He smacked Francis’ cheek, the sound sharp against the humid air. "Watch real men handle your girl."


End of chapter 1
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Let me know if anyone is interested in a follow up

[Lucius]

Glad to see another author joining the board!

This post, however, lacks tags. @jasmine18, could you please have a look at the Tag Guidelines viewtopic.php?t=134 and edit your post, adding the necessary ones?

[jasmine18]

Done, sorry about that. Been viewing for a while and thought id get on board.

[Vela Nanashi]

Interesting we start out knowing her scent and clothing more than her looks.

This might be intentional but when Matt speaks there may be a missing word:

"How does an 18 year old looking *like* that get an 18 year old beauty who looks like that."

I can tell I don't like Matt and his friends already, though I can't say I know much about Francis and Olivia yet.

Golden smooth skin for Olivia.

Where does one find cable ties that fit around wrists and a tree? Maybe I mistakenly think zip tie? If ziptie then those have only one end exposed after securing around something and usually a short one. But I must be mistaking some sort of rope like cable tie for ziptie. Unless it is arms around tree and then ziptie wrists, either way not fun for Francis.

I think I misinterpreted the teaser as Matt being unwilling, but clearly he is in on it too, keep up with the story I am sure others will like this more than I, one small suggestion that I myself fail at a lot is you may want to break up paragraphs between different people doing things, I know how hard that is to do when you are trying to capture such a dynamic scene though, one has to write fast then, so I get it. Also I more than once while reading this had my tired brain slip when reading Matt and Mark, but that is my fault and I reread and managed to separate them.

Good to see a new writer join, keep writing

[VictimEyes]

Welcome aboard!!!

- and if there are more chapters to this story, then publish them regardless of feedback (or lack thereof); -continue writing!

[Shocker]

I love how you write this, it’s shaping up to be an excellent story.

If I might give a piece if unsolicited advice concerning the teaser. Instead of giving a short summary as you did, you could just use 1 or 2 sentences of your story to wet the appetite. I frequently use the first sentences, and your beginning is easily strong enough to do so.

But if you want to intrigue readers I’d suggest using this snippet

Olivia flinched when Matt stepped closer, her back hitting the oak’s rough bark. The hem of her singlet had ridden up further, exposing the dip of her navel.

The reason the teaser exists, is that this forum allows a short snippet if text to be displayed by hovering over a story title, so it gives the author a chance of setting the mood/expectation for the story.

But as I said, you are doing great and feel free to ignore my words, as should be often done with unsolicited advice.

[jasmine18]

Its all sweet, im always happy to take in advice. Im quite new to this, I have got another 2 chapters of this just need to edit them and then i can post. Ive got a few more stories as well so ill pop some of them down as well. Just need to find the time to edit before I post.

[RapeU]

I like it so far. Forced voyeurism of the rape from the love interest always makes for a good story. Especially if Francis gets visibly hard from it!

[jasmine18]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

"Stop, " Francis’ voice cracked, thin as the plastic digging into his wrists. He jerked against the trunk, his shoulders screaming. "She didn’t, just take me instead!" Tony snorted, pressing Olivia’s face harder into the dirt. Her muffled sobs hitched as Matt’s fingers finally popped the button of her shorts. Francis thrashed, his knees scraping bark. "I’ll do anything, just leave her alone!" His words dissolved into wet, heaving breaths, his chest heaving against the cable tie. Mark leaned in, grinning at the sheen of snot on Francis’ upper lip. "Anything?" He flicked Francis’ nose. "Too bad. We want her."

Mark straightened, turning his back on Francis like he was nothing, just another shadow clinging to the tree. Olivia’s legs kicked wildly, her sneakers scraping furrows in the dirt as Tony wrenched her arms higher. The hem of her singlet rode up completely now, exposing the smooth dip of her lower back. Matt’s breath hitched. Her skin glowed under the streetlight, golden and damp. "Sorry she just looks so damn good," Mark said, flicking a glance at Francis. "Besides our boy here deserves a little love." He grinned, nudging Matt’s shoulder. "Ain’t that right, Matt?"

Olivia screamed then, loud enough to split the humid air, her voice raw and terrified. "HELP! SOMEONE, !" Tony clamped his hand tighter over her mouth, muffling her into a choked whimper. The cicadas didn’t stop. The park didn’t stir. Just empty darkness stretching beyond the streetlight’s orange halo. Francis thrashed against his bonds, the cable tie biting deeper into his wrists. "Olivia!" His voice cracked, desperate. "Somebody fucking help her!" But the night swallowed his words, indifferent.

Mark leaned down, panting from exertion, his grin widening at Olivia’s futile struggle. "Scream all you want," he panted, his fingers digging into her hip where her shorts had slipped. "Nobody’s coming." Olivia’s chest heaved, her singlet clinging to her skin with sweat. She tried to kick backward, her sneaker connecting weakly with Matt’s shin, but he barely flinched. The taste of beer and shame clogged his throat as he stared at the strip of skin above her shorts. Tony laughed, low and mean. "Yeah, fight all you want. Makes it better."

Matt hesitated, his fingers hovering near Olivia’s jawline. Her lips glistened under the streetlight, cherry-red and trembling. Tony nudged him hard with his elbow. "Quit being a pussy. You might as well have a little sample of the sweet delicacy," he goaded, his breath hot against Matt’s ear. "Give her a little kiss. Taste that cherry lip-gloss." Matt swallowed thickly. His pulse hammered at the base of his throat. Olivia’s eyes were wide, wet with terror, but her lips, soft, parted, were right there. He could almost smell the artificial sweetness of the gloss.

"You ever even kissed a girl?" Mark taunted, twisting Olivia’s arm tighter until she whimpered. Matt’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t. Not even close. The closest he’d gotten was an awkward peck in middle school, forced and dry. Olivia’s breath hitched, her nose scrunching as he leaned in. His lips brushed hers, chapped, clumsy, and she jerked back violently. Mark laughed, pressing her forward again. "That’s it, boy. Get a feel for it before you get to the main course." Olivia’s lips were warm, soft, sticky with gloss. Matt’s hands shook where they gripped her shoulders.

Francis screamed, the sound raw enough to shred his throat. "Get the fuck off her!" He thrashed against the cable tie, his wrists slick with blood where the plastic had bitten in. Olivia’s lips stayed clenched shut, trembling under Matt’s. He could taste the salt of her tears where they’d streaked down her cheeks. The tang of fear. Tony dug his fingers into her scalp, yanking her head back. "Open up," he growled. Olivia gasped, her mouth parting instinctively, just enough for Matt to press in harder.

Her tongue was warm, wet, startlingly alive against his. It recoiled instantly, twisting away, but Matt followed, clumsy with desperation. The cherry gloss was sickly sweet, mixed with something metallic, blood, maybe, from where her teeth had cut her lip. Tony laughed, low and ugly. "There you go, buddy. Get a real taste." Olivia gagged, her throat convulsing, but Matt couldn’t stop. Her breath hitched through her nose, sharp, panicked. He could feel the flutter of her pulse under his thumbs where they dug into her jaw.

Mark leaned over, peering down at Matt’s crotch. His grin widened. "Jesus, that’s pathetic," he snorted, elbowing Tony. "Look at that little fucking nub." Tony barked a laugh, twisting Olivia’s arm higher. "Kid’s got less going on than Francis." Francis sobbed against the tree, his wrists raw where the cable tie sawed into them. Olivia’s knee jerked up, catching Matt square in the groin. He doubled over with a grunt, the pain white-hot, but Mark caught him by the collar before he could crumple. "Aw, did the baby get hurt?" Mark crooned, shaking him like a rag doll.

Tony finally let go of Olivia’s hair, clutching his sides as he laughed. "Look at him, fucking pathetic!" His voice cracked with glee. Olivia stumbled back, her sneakers slipping in the dirt, but Tony didn’t even glance her way. He wiped tears from his eyes, slapping Matt’s shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. "Guess we gotta find you something smaller, huh? Maybe a fucking hamster." Mark howled, doubling over. Olivia’s chest heaved, her singlet clinging to her skin, but she didn’t run. Her eyes darted to Francis, still bound, still bleeding.

Francis thrashed against the tree, his wrists slick with blood where the cable tie had bitten in. "Olivia," he gasped, his voice breaking. "Run!" Olivia took a step back, her legs shaking. Mark straightened, still chuckling, and lunged. His palm cracked against her cheekbone, snapping her head to the side. The force knocked her off balance, and she hit the dirt hard, her elbows scraping the dry earth. Her sneakers kicked uselessly as she scrambled to push herself up, but Mark planted a foot between her shoulder blades, driving her back down.

Tony moved fast, grabbing Olivia's wrists and wrenching them above her head. She arched off the ground, her singlet riding up to expose her stomach. "Hold still, sweetheart," Tony growled, his knuckles whitening around her arms. Mark dropped to his knees, grabbing her ankle with one hand while the other clamped around her thigh. The denim of her shorts strained as he yanked her legs apart. Olivia screamed, the sound raw and jagged, but the cicadas drowned her out.

Matt stood frozen, sweat dripping down his temples. His hands trembled at his sides, fingers twitching like he wasn't sure whether to help or join in. Mark glanced up at him and grinned. "C'mon, virgin boy," he taunted, jerking Olivia's leg wider. "Your present's ready." The words hit Matt like a punch to the gut. Olivia twisted violently, her sneaker kicking up dirt, but Mark held firm. Tony leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "Be a good girl now," he murmured. "Make it easy on yourself."

Matt's throat went dry. Olivia's skin was golden under the streetlight, her stomach rising and falling in short, panicked bursts. The hem of her singlet had bunched up near her ribs, exposing the soft curve of her waist. Slowly, as if in a trance, Matt crouched beside her. His fingers hovered over her bare skin, millimeters away. The warmth radiating off her was unlike anything he'd ever felt, alive, electric. He swallowed hard.

Her breath hitched when his fingertips finally brushed her side, feather-light at first, then firmer as he traced the dip of her hipbone. Olivia shuddered beneath his touch, her muscles tensing as his palm slid up her ribcage. The fabric of her singlet was damp with sweat, clinging to her skin as his fingers crept higher. Mark whistled low. "There you go, champ," he sneered, tightening his grip on Olivia's thigh. "Get a feel for those tits while you're at it."

Matt's fingers trembled when they grazed the swell of her breast through the thin cotton. The lace edge of her bra scraped his knuckles as he cupped her clumsily, his palm too wide, too rough against the softness beneath. Olivia whimpered, her nipples stiffening under his touch, pressing against the fabric like pebbles. Tony laughed, shifting his weight to pin her wrists harder into the dirt. "Bet they're nicer than your hand, huh?"

Francis screamed from the tree, his voice ragged as he strained against the cable tie. Mark glanced back, grinning at the blood streaking the smaller guy's arms. "Aww, Francie's jealous!" He twisted Olivia's leg wider, making her cry out. "Don't worry, shrimp, she's getting the real deal now." Olivia's breath came in short, panicked bursts, her ribs expanding under Matt's wandering hands.

Matt leaned down, his breath hot and uneven against Olivia's cheek. She jerked her face away, but he caught her chin clumsily, forcing her lips back to his. The second kiss was wetter, sloppier, his teeth scraping her lips as he crushed his mouth against hers. Olivia gagged against his tongue, the cherry gloss now mixed with the coppery tang of blood from her bitten lip. His fingers tightened on her breast, kneading roughly through the damp fabric of her singlet.

Tony let out a low whistle. "Damn, virgin's got some moves," he taunted, but Matt barely heard him. His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out Olivia's stifled gasps. Slowly, his fingers traced downward, skimming the ridge of her ribs, the dip of her waist, as if memorizing the terrain. Her skin was slick with sweat, warm and alive under his touch. He paused at the hem of her singlet, hesitating just long enough for Olivia to whimper, "Don't, " before he yanked the fabric up past her bra.

The white lace stood out stark against her tan skin, the cups straining with every panicked breath she took. Matt swallowed hard. "Thirty-six C," Mark guessed, squeezing Olivia's thigh like he was sizing up livestock. "Bet she paid extra for the push-up." Tony snorted, twisting Olivia's wrists higher. "Nah, look at how they're sitting. Natural."

Matt couldn't tear his eyes away. The swell of her cleavage rose and fell rapidly, beads of sweat glistening in the hollow between her breasts. His thumb traced the scalloped edge of her bra, the lace rough against his calloused fingers. Olivia flinched violently when he hooked a digit under the fabric, her skin pebbling with goosebumps despite the summer heat. "She could be a supermodel," Tony murmured, his breath hot against Olivia's temple. "You're a lucky guy, Matt."

Mark's fingers dug into Olivia's thigh as he leaned forward. "Quit stalling," he growled. Matt's hands shook as he grabbed the hem of his own singlet, the fabric sticking to his sweaty torso. He hesitated, acutely aware of the rolls spilling over his waistband. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut as he peeled the shirt upward, his pudgy belly jiggling when it caught on his ribs. The night air prickled against his exposed skin, cooling the sweat matting his chest hair.

Olivia turned her face away sharply when Matt knelt between her legs. "Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Just let me go." Her eyelids fluttered open, searching the dark beyond the streetlight's orange glow for any movement, any flash of a phone screen that might mean help was coming. There was nothing. Tony laughed, grinding her wrists deeper into the dirt. Pebbles bit into her flesh, tiny pinpricks of pain drowned out by the terror constricting her throat.

Francis bucked against the tree with a raw, guttural scream. The cable tie shredded his wrists, blood streaking down his forearms in slick ribbons. "Don't touch her!" he howled, his voice breaking on the last word. Mark barely glanced at him, too busy spreading Olivia's legs wider, his fingers digging bruises into her inner thighs. The denim shorts bunched awkwardly against her hips, the fabric straining with every frantic twist of her body.

Matt inhaled sharply as he leaned over Olivia, his nose brushing the damp skin of her collarbone. The scent hit him first, strawberry shampoo layered with the salt of her sweat, something floral underneath, maybe her deodorant or the fabric softener on her singlet. His mouth watered despite himself. "She sure does smell good," he muttered, his voice thick with awe and something darker. Olivia shuddered beneath him, her breath coming in short, panicked huffs that only made the fragrance stronger.

Slowly, Matt straightened, his fingers trembling as they moved to his belt buckle. He made sure Olivia saw it, dragging the metal teeth apart inch by inch until the leather slithered free with a faint hiss. Tony whistled low, shifting his grip on Olivia's wrists to get a better view. The belt landed with a dull thud in the dirt beside her head, kicking up a tiny cloud of dust that settled in her hair. Olivia flinched, her lashes fluttering wetly as she stared up at Matt's flushed face. "No," she whispered, the word barely audible over Francis' ragged sobs. "No, no please."

Matt didn't answer. His fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, thumbs catching the button. The metal was warm from his skin, the denim stiff where it had molded to his hips. He popped it with an absent flick, the sound louder than he'd expected in the humid air. The zipper glinted under the streetlight, the tiny metal teeth winking as Matt pinched the pull between his thumb and forefinger. Olivia's breath hitched, her throat working silently as he drew it down millimeter by millimeter. The rasp of the zipper was obscenely loud, drowning out the cicadas for a heartbeat.

Tony whistled, low and appreciative. "Gotta admit," he muttered, craning his neck to see better, "kid knows how to put on a fucking show." Matt's cheeks burned, but he didn't stop. The jeans sagged open, revealing the striped waistband of his boxers, sweat-darkened at the hips. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, her lashes clumping with tears. Matt hesitated, his fingers hovering over the elastic. Then, with a sharp inhale, he shoved the denim down past his thighs in one clumsy jerk. The fabric pooled around his knees, the inside seam still damp from where he'd spilled beer earlier.

Mark chuckled, shifting his grip on Olivia's ankle to give Matt more room. "She's not looking," he taunted, pinching the soft flesh of her inner thigh until her eyelids flew open with a gasp. Matt swallowed hard. His erection strained against the thin cotton of his boxers, the outline unmistakable under the streetlight. Slowly, deliberately, he traced the shape of himself through the fabric, his fingertips pressing just hard enough to make Olivia flinch. The cotton was warm, damp with sweat where it clung to him. He could smell himself, stale beer and teenage musk, mingling with Olivia's strawberry shampoo.

Tony grinned, tightening his hold on Olivia's wrists. "Guess 18 is the best time to lose your virginity, Matt," he sneered, jerking his chin toward Olivia's trembling form. "Welcome to adulthood." Olivia's breath hitched when Matt hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, stretching the elastic just enough to reveal a strip of skin above his pubic bone. He paused there, letting her stare, letting the anticipation coil tight in the humid air between them. Her hazel eyes flickered with something beyond terror now, a sickening comprehension of what was coming.

But as Matt stepped closer, his bare thighs brushing her denim-clad knees, something clenched inside him. Olivia wasn't just some faceless girl from his fantasies anymore. Up close, he could see the tiny freckles dusting her nose, the way her lower lip quivered when she inhaled sharply. His knuckles grazed the curve of her hip where her shorts had ridden up, the skin damp and impossibly soft. Instead of ripping at the fabric like he'd imagined, his fingers lingered, tracing the hem almost reverently. Olivia shuddered beneath his touch, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Bet you never imagined a pimple-face guy like me would ever be inside you," he murmured, his voice thick with something between awe and self-loathing. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. Olivia's eyes widened further, her pupils swallowing the hazel as she took in his flushed cheeks, the angry red blemishes dotting his jawline. A tear slid down her temple, disappearing into her tangled hair. Matt watched it go, his chest tightening inexplicably.

Mark snorted from behind him, nudging Matt's shoulder with his knee. "Well, we've all seen your underwear, Matt," he taunted, his grin audible. "Only fair we see the rest of hers. Is it matching pink?" His fingers dug into Olivia's thigh for emphasis, making her jerk violently. Tony chuckled, adjusting his grip on her wrists. "We'll let you do the honors," he purred, his breath hot against Olivia's ear. "Nice and slow."

Matt's fingers trembled as they brushed Olivia's waistband, tracing the frayed edge of her shorts where the denim had curled slightly. The fabric was warm from her skin, damp with sweat along the crease of her hip. Olivia screamed as he hooked a finger under the button, her throat flexing against Tony's forearm where it pinned her. The sound was raw, desperate, a jagged thing that tore through the cicadas' drone. But Matt barely heard it. His pulse roared in his ears as he twisted the metal button free with a soft pop.

"Bet you fifty she's wearing white," Tony hissed suddenly, his grin widening as Olivia bucked beneath him. Mark snorted, shifting his grip on her thighs. "Nah, she's a basic bitch, black cotton, guaranteed." Francis wailed from the tree, his voice shredded. "Shut the fuck up!" he sobbed, but Matt barely registered it. His fingers had found the zipper now, the tiny metal teeth hot under his fingertips. Olivia's breath came in sharp, panicked bursts, her nostrils flaring as he dragged it down inch by inch.

The denim peeled open with a whisper, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and the lacy edge of pink panties. Tony whooped, slamming Olivia's wrists harder into the dirt. "Fuck, we were both wrong!" The fabric was sheer, hugging the curve of her hipbone where it disappeared into the waistband of her shorts. Matt's throat went dry. He'd imagined this moment a thousand times, just never like this. Never with her trembling beneath him, her pulse rabbiting in her throat beneath his thumb.

Mark whistled, leaning closer. "Damn, fancy little thing," he sneered, flicking the delicate lace where it peeked above her shorts. "Victoria's Secret?" Olivia flinched violently, her hips jerking away from his touch. Tony laughed, twisting her arms higher. "Look at that stitching," he taunted, nodding toward the embroidered roses along the waistband. "Bet Daddy paid extra for these." The words hit Matt like a punch. Olivia's eyes squeezed shut, tears beading on her lashes.

Olivia screamed then, the sound ripping from her throat in jagged bursts, "Please! Please!", her voice cracking on each repetition. Francis echoed her from the tree, his cries hoarse and broken. Matt hesitated, his fingers frozen where they clutched her waistband. The fabric was damp with sweat, the lace beneath clinging to her skin. Olivia's breath hitched violently when he tugged, her thighs tensing as the shorts slid lower. "Please," she sobbed again, "please don't." The words dissolved into incoherent gasps.

Mark snorted, rolling his eyes. "Let go of her legs, I need to take off these shorts," Matt muttered, his voice thick. Mark smirked but released Olivia's ankle with a shove. Her knees slammed together instantly, her sneakers twisting in the dirt. Tony chuckled darkly, twisting her wrists higher. "She'll spread 'em soon enough," he taunted, grinding his knee into Olivia's ribs. Matt swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as they traced the hem of her panties where they peeked above the denim. The pink lace was delicate, almost sheer against her tanned skin.

With a sharp jerk, he yanked the shorts downward. The fabric scraped Olivia's thighs, peeling away as she kicked violently. One leg jammed against the waistband briefly before the denim gave way, sliding past her knees in a crumpled heap. Matt tossed them blindly into the bushes, where they snagged on thorns with a faint rustle. Olivia's legs thrashed, her socked feet kicking up dust as she tried to roll onto her side. Tony pressed her flat again with a grunt, his fingers digging bruises into her hipbones.

Mark grabbed her ankles with a wet chuckle, forcing them apart with excruciating slowness. "Now, now," he crooned, his breath hot against her calf as he leaned down, "don't be feisty. Our lover boy here wants to make you feel special." Olivia's scream dissolved into a wet sob as Matt shuffled forward on his knees, his boxers tenting obscenely. His hands hovered over her trembling thighs, fingers twitching like he was afraid to touch the pink lace stretched taut across her hips. She smelled overwhelmingly feminine, sweat, strawberries, and something muskier underneath that made his throat tighten.

His fingertips brushed the scalloped edge of her panties first, the lace unexpectedly rough against his calloused skin. The warmth radiating from her body hit him like a physical force, none of his fantasies had prepared him for how alive she'd feel, how her skin prickled with goosebumps beneath his touch. He traced the damp strip of fabric between her legs, marveling at how it clung to every curve. Olivia jerked violently when he pressed his palm flat against her, a choked whimper escaping her lips. Heat pulsed through the thin fabric, unmistakable, terrifyingly real.

"Bet they feel real good, Matt," Tony hissed from above, his breath hot against Olivia's temple. Mark chuckled darkly, tightening his grip on her ankles. "Yeah, get a handful of that pussy before you wreck it." Matt's fingers trembled as they hooked into the waistband, the elastic snapping lightly against Olivia's hips when he tugged. She arched off the ground with a broken scream, her muscles corded tight as piano wire beneath his hands. The scent hit him harder now, salt and something muskier underneath the strawberries, flooding his mouth with saliva.

Tony snorted, jerking Olivia's arms higher. "Hey, a good guy would remove the tops first," he taunted, grinding his knee into her ribs. Matt blinked, momentarily confused as Olivia's singlet had fallen back down with her wriggling about, now crumpled around her waist. The white fabric was streaked with dirt, clinging damply to her bra. He swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the hem where it bunched near her hipbone. Olivia flinched violently when he lifted the fabric, her stomach contracting sharply beneath his touch.

Mark rolled his eyes but adjusted his grip on Olivia's ankles, smirking as Matt peeled the singlet upward with clumsy reverence. The fabric caught briefly on her bra strap before sliding free, revealing the intricate lacework of her bralette in full. Pink roses embroidered along the scalloped edges twined between delicate straps, the sheer cups barely containing her breasts. Matt's breath hitched, his fantasies had never included details like the tiny mole beside her left strap, or how her collarbones trembled when she hyperventilated.

His fingers hovered near the clasp, hovering uncertainly over the delicate metal hook. Olivia thrashed violently when he touched it, her sudden movement making him fumble. The clasp pinged open briefly before snapping shut again, grazing his thumbnail. "Jesus, Matt," Tony scoffed, tightening his grip on Olivia's wrists. "Can't even unhook a bra?"

Matt exhaled sharply, trying again with more care this time. The metal was warm from Olivia's skin, slightly sticky with sweat where his fingers slipped against it. He pinched the clasp gently, feeling the tiny mechanism flex beneath his touch. Olivia's breath came in panicked hitches, her ribs expanding visibly beneath the lace cups as he finally released the hook. The straps went slack instantly, but the cups stayed miraculously in place, preserving some shred of modesty even as the fabric pooled loosely around her breasts.

"Well alright," Mark crowed, nudging Matt's shoulder with his knee. "Let's see the goods!" His laugh was wet, too loud in the humid air. Matt hesitated, acutely aware of how his hands dwarfed Olivia's frame. With trembling fingers, he peeled the lace aside slowly, watching the fabric peel away from her damp skin like the petal of some obscene flower. The reveal was agonizingly gradual, first the soft swell beneath her arm, then the curve of her ribcage, and finally the stiff peak of her nipple, puckered tight with fear or the night air.

Olivia's chest rose sharply when his knuckles brushed her, her breath hitching as the bralette fell open completely. The sight punched through Matt like a physical blow, the perfect tan lines demarcating where summer had touched her, the dusky pink areolas slightly uneven, the way her breasts jiggled minutely with every panicked breath. They were fuller than he'd imagined, the weight of them pulling slightly to the sides as she thrashed, the undersides glistening with sweat where they pressed against her ribs. A bead of perspiration traced the valley between them, disappearing beneath the lace still tangled around her midriff.

His fingertips touched first, skimming the outer curve with an almost clinical detachment, as if verifying she was real. The skin was impossibly soft yet resilient, yielding beneath his calloused fingers yet springing back when he pressed harder. Olivia whined deep in her throat when his thumb found her nipple, the peak taut and pebbled against his rough skin. It felt nothing like the fantasies, no silken moans, no arching into his touch, just the ragged scrape of her breathing and the frantic flutter of her pulse beneath his fingertips. A drop of sweat slid from his temple onto her collarbone, tracing the same path his fingers had moments before.

Mark whistled sharply. "Oh fuck yeah, squeeze 'em properly," he urged, shifting his grip on Olivia's thighs. Matt obeyed mechanically, palming her breast with clumsy desperation. The weight of her filled his hand in a way that made his own breath stutter, warm, impossibly alive, the texture shifting from silk to pebbled flesh as he brushed the nipple again. Heat radiated from her skin, soaking into his palms, his fingers leaving pale imprints when he squeezed too hard. Olivia gasped wetly, her hips jerking involuntarily as his nails grazed her.

"Now you gotta taste them," Tony goaded, grinning when Matt hesitated. "Be a real man." The words dripped with mockery. Matt inhaled sharply, the scent of her skin flooding his senses, salt, sunscreen, something faintly floral beneath the sweat. Slowly, he bent forward, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of her breast before closing his lips over her nipple. Olivia arched violently, a ragged scream tearing from her throat as Matt sucked gently, the bud hardening impossibly further against his tongue. The taste was muskier than he'd imagined, the skin slightly tacky with perspiration, the faintest hint of detergent lingering beneath it all. He groaned involuntarily, the vibration making Olivia shudder.

Francis' sobs had dissolved into wordless, animalistic howls, his throat raw from screaming. Mark laughed, kicking dirt toward the tree. "Pipe down, twig arms," he sneered. "You're missing the show." Matt ignored them, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down Olivia's trembling abdomen, each touch deliberate, lingering. His lips brushed the dip of her navel, the skin quivering beneath his tongue as he swirled it slowly. Olivia's stomach muscles contracted violently, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. Mark tightened his grip on her thighs, forcing them wider despite her frantic resistance.

Matt paused at the scalloped edge of her panties, his breath hot against the damp lace. The scent was overwhelming here, strawberries, sweat, the musk of her fear, filling his nose until his head spun. He hesitated, his fingers tracing the embroidered roses along the waistband, the delicate stitching catching against his calloused fingertips. Up close, the fabric was nearly sheer, the shadow of curls visible beneath the intricate weave. His mouth watered. Slowly, deliberately, he hooked his thumbs into the sides, stretching the elastic just enough to reveal the barest strip of tanned skin below her hipbones. Olivia whimpered, her legs trembling in Mark's grasp.

Something made him stop. Maybe it was the way her breath hitched, or how her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird beneath his fingers. Matt lifted his head, forcing himself to meet her eyes. What he saw there punched through the alcohol haze like a fist, pure terror, yes, but beneath it, something worse: recognition. She saw him. Not just the hands groping her, not just the drunken leer, but him, Matt, the pimpled kid who sat behind her in Algebra, who'd tripped over his own feet spilling milk in the cafeteria. Her lips moved soundlessly, shaping a word he couldn't hear over the blood roaring in his ears.

Tony's knee dug harder into Olivia's ribs. "Jesus, Matt, stop being a pussy," he snarled, jerking her arms higher until her shoulders popped. The pain ripped a gasp from her throat, but her eyes never left Matt's face. He could see his own reflection in her tears, distorted and monstrous. Suddenly he was back in seventh grade, pressing sweaty palms against his jeans while Jessica Langley sneered at his stammered confession. That same heat crawled up his neck now, that same acidic shame burning his tongue.

"You think you're too good for me, you little princess?" Matt's voice cracked on the last word. His fingers twisted in the lace of her panties, his grip tightening until the delicate fabric strained. Olivia flinched, her thighs trembling against his knuckles. "Well I'll show you." The elastic snapped against her hips as he peeled the fabric downward in jagged increments, each fraction of exposed skin a revelation. The scent intensified where the lace had clung, salt, musk, the copper-tang of fear. Her pubic hair was darker than he'd imagined, neatly trimmed curls damp with sweat.

Mark whistled through his teeth. "Damn, virgin eyes on their first pussy," he jeered, wrenching Olivia's legs wider. Matt barely heard him. His vision tunneled on the glistening cleft revealed between her thighs, the folds flushed pink even in the dim light. Olivia sobbed, her hips twitching uselessly in Mark's iron grip. Matt traced the outer lips first with trembling fingers, the skin impossibly soft and slick beneath his calloused touch. A bead of moisture clung to his fingertip when he pulled away.

Without warning, Matt fisted the delicate lace and jerked sideways. The fabric tore with a sharp rasp, threads popping one by one until the panties hung askew from one thigh like some grotesque garter. Olivia wailed, her thighs snapping together instinctively only for Mark to pry them apart again with a sadistic chuckle. The scent hit Matt full-force now, musk and salt and something primal that made his cock throb against the confines of his boxers. He rubbed his fingertips along her slit experimentally, marveling at the slick heat.

Then his finger plunged inside, and scraped against dry, resisting flesh. Olivia screamed, her back arching off the ground as her inner muscles clenched reflexively around the intrusion. Matt froze. She wasn't wet at all. The realization struck him like a bucket of ice water. Beneath the sweat and fear-scent, her body had rejected this entirely, the tight channel offering no give, no welcome. He withdrew his finger with a slick pop, staring dumbly at the glistening digit.

"She's bone dry," Matt muttered, his voice cracking. The words hung in the thick air, underscored by Olivia's ragged sobs. Tony burst out laughing, a harsh, barking sound that sent spittle flying onto Olivia's thigh. "Fuck yeah," Mark crowed, twisting Olivia's wrist harder against the dirt. "Makes her even tighter for you, virgin boy." His grin was feral in the dim light. "Little princess isn't enjoying herself? Too damn bad."

Tony dug his knee deeper into Olivia's ribs. "Stand up," he ordered Matt, jerking his chin toward Olivia's sprawled form. "Show her what she's won." His smirk twisted into something grotesque as he mimicked a game show host's drawl. Olivia's breath hitched violently when Matt shuffled back, his knees scraping against the dry earth. The torn remnants of her panties clung to one thigh, the other side completely exposed to the fireflies' flickering glow.

Mark tightened his grip on Olivia's ankles, forcing them wider apart with deliberate cruelty. "Go on," he urged, his voice thick with anticipation. "Let the princess see what she's getting." Matt hesitated, his hands trembling as they hovered near the waistband of his boxers. The fabric tented obscenely, dark with sweat. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, her lashes glistening with tears, but Mark snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Open your eyes, bitch," he growled. "You don't wanna miss this."

Behind them, Tony began humming tunelessly, some half-remembered pop song with a slow, grinding rhythm. The off-key melody slithered through the humid air like a serpent, twisting around Olivia's muffled sobs. Matt swallowed hard, his fingers hooking into the elastic of his boxers. The fabric peeled away from his hips with agonizing slowness, revealing flushed skin inch by inch. Olivia whimpered when the head of his cock finally emerged, glistening in the firefly light.

Mark's breath hitched first, then exploded into a cackle that sent a flock of startled sparrows bursting from the nearby bushes. "Holy shit," he wheezed, slapping his thigh. "You're fucking uncut?" The words carried a sneer that made Matt's ears burn. "Like a goddamn baby!" Tony joined in instantly, his laughter sharp as broken glass. "Look at that fucking turtleneck!" He mimed retracting skin with two fingers, tears of mirth streaking his cheeks.

Olivia's reaction was worse. Her eyes, wide and horrified, locked onto the pinkish tip peeking from its sheath, her lips parting in silent revulsion. The expression carved into Matt's gut deeper than Tony's taunts ever could. He stood there, pimpled belly quivering, five inches of desperate erection bobbing between his thighs as cicadas droned in the trees. The contrast was grotesque: her flawless tan skin marked with their grubby fingerprints, his pale torso dotted with acne scars and sparse chest hair.

"Didn't you turn eighteen last month?" Mark's voice dripped false sweetness as he twisted Olivia's wrist harder into the dirt. "Consider this your belated birthday present." He winked at Tony over Olivia's trembling form. The cruelty in the gesture made Matt's erection falter. Olivia's breath hitched when she noticed, her gaze flicking between his face and his dwindling hardness with dawning, desperate hope.

Tony saw it too. "Oh fuck me," he groaned, slapping his forehead. "He's losing it!" His laughter echoed off the trees, sharp enough to startle another round of fireflies into panicked flight. Matt's hands flew to his crotch instinctively, his fingers brushing half-hard flesh that refused to cooperate. Olivia's thighs tensed in Mark's grip, not fighting now, just waiting, her eyes locked onto Matt's humiliation like it was the only lifeline left.

Mark leaned in until his beer-sour breath fogged against Olivia's cheek. "I know what will get you going, Matt," he crooned, fingers tightening around her ankles. "Stick it between her tits." The words slithered out, punctuated by Tony's approving snort. Matt blinked, his gaze dropping to Olivia's heaving chest. The bralette hung open, her breasts glistening with sweat from his earlier attentions, nipples still stiff from fear or the night air. Something primal twisted in his gut.

Tony released Olivia's wrists abruptly, shoving her arms upward with brutal efficiency. "There," he growled, forcing her elbows together until her cleavage deepened obscenely. Olivia gasped at the rough handling, her spine arching as much as Mark's grip would allow. Mark shifted his weight, dragging her hips closer to Matt's kneeling form while keeping her legs splayed wide. The repositioning left her torso perfectly angled, her breasts jiggling slightly with each panicked breath.

Matt hesitated, staring at the sweat-slicked valley between Olivia's trembling mounds. His own breath came in ragged gulps, the scent of her terror mingling with the floral detergent lingering on her skin. Slowly, awkwardly, he shuffled forward on his knees, his half-hard length brushing her sternum as he leaned over her. Olivia flinched violently when his hips settled against her ribs, her breath hitching as his weight pinned her to the dirt.

Tony grinned wolfishly, watching Matt's trembling hands hover uncertainly above Olivia's chest. Without warning, he spat a thick glob of saliva directly onto her cleavage, the viscous strand landing with an audible splat between her breasts. Olivia whimpered as the warm liquid slid down her sternum, pooling in the hollow beneath her clavicle. The sight punched through Matt's hesitation, her perfect skin glistening with Tony's spit, her pink nipples puckered tight against the night air.

"There," Tony sneered, grabbing Matt's wrist and forcing his palm onto Olivia's slick flesh. "Now rub it in." Matt obeyed mechanically, spreading the saliva down her sternum with rough strokes that made her skin flush pink. Olivia's breath hitched as his fingers grazed her nipple, the dampness mixing with her own sweat until her entire chest shone under the moonlight. The scent hit him harder now, salt and musk and something unmistakably Tony beneath the strawberries, flooding his senses until his cock twitched back to full hardness against her ribs.

Mark whooped, tightening his grip on Olivia's thighs. "There you go, didn't even have to stick it in there and you're hard again!" His laughter was a sawtooth edge against the humid air. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut as Matt rutted against her ribcage, his uncut tip leaving smears of precum across her collarbone. The friction was clumsy, desperate, his hips jerking erratically like a marionette with cut strings. Every thrust dragged her bralette straps tighter against her shoulders, the lace biting into her skin.

Tony leaned in, his breath sour with beer as he grinned at Matt's frantic movements. "Slow the fuck down, virgin," he sneered, grabbing Matt's hips hard enough to leave bruises. "You're gonna blow before the main event." The words dripped with mocking glee. Matt gasped, freezing mid-thrust, his entire body trembling with the effort of stopping. Olivia's chest heaved beneath him, sweat and spit shining in the hollow between her breasts. The scent of her fear mixed with Tony's saliva made his head swim.

Mark shifted his grip, forcing Olivia's legs wider apart with deliberate cruelty. The torn remnants of her panties fluttered against one thigh as her knees pressed into the dirt. "Down there," Mark ordered, jerking his chin toward her exposed center. His grin widened when Matt hesitated. "Use your weight, dumbass. She's squirmy." Olivia whimpered, her muscles tensing as Matt finally slid downward, his knees scraping against the dry earth. His erection bobbed obscenely close to her face before he settled heavily between her thighs.

[Shocker]

Your level of detail is amazing, making the stripping of Olivia this lang drawn out affair, and I enjoyed every minute of it.