Fate

Dennis felt his... average... ok... less than impressive manhood instantly grow hard and strain against the fabric of his jumpsuit.

Was this some kind of dream? Had he accidentally gotten high off of the cleaning fumes (again)? Just what was going on?

All of those thoughts instantly disappeared as he continued to stare at the woman in front of him.

No... not a woman... a goddess!

Admittedly, he hadn't always been into thicc girls.

In his younger, less mature days, he had preferred what could be described as statuesque or more traditionally beautiful women.

But he was in his mid 20s now, and his tastes were much more refined. At least, that is what he told himself.

It certainly had nothing to do with all the bad experiences he had had with the traditional beauties, especially at the hands of a particularly cruel girl he had had the biggest crush on in high school...

But why focus on the past when the present was so tantalizing?

He leered at the sight in front of him as lust clouded his mind, and said the cleverest thing he could think of.

"Holy shit..."

The utterance caused Lauren to look over her shoulder, her hair flipping and covering one of her eyes like some pin-up model in a photoshoot (or one of the dancers at the strip club that routinely fleeced Dennis of his hard-earned, and very-small, paycheck).

The two locked eyes as a sense of shock and horror filled both of them.

"L-Lauren?!"

"Dennis?!"

The two squeaked in unison.