Texting Dre.

The next week was brutal. Mara had an itch that couldn’t be scratched. She was horny, and her man couldn’t satisfy her needs. She needed Dre. Just one last time.

She texted him: “Hey, can we talk?” And waited. Breath held. Desperate for the “Yes”. The response of “Where? When?” but it didn’t come. Not for an hour.

When it did, it read: “Bondiwood park. Tomorrow morning, 7am. Baseball dugout.”

Mara sighed in relief. She was going to get fucked in a dugout, and that was it. She’d be satisfied with one last time and could move on.

However… that’s not how it played out.

When she got to the park, she found a duffle bag with her name, “Mara”, on it. Written in sloppy letters. She opened it and found a slutty cheerleading uniform. One you would buy at a bad sex shop. She frowned and then found the note: “Remember I told you you’d have to earn my attention. Yeah, this is it. Put this on. I want you to go to the jungle gym and entertain the old homeless pervert that’s always there. Lapdance. Perform that, and we can talk bitch.”

Mara really wants to experience Dre again, so she obeys after an internal conflict. She pulls the outfit on. She didn’t wear panties today because she prepared for a quickie, which isn’t ideal because this outfit was super short.

Making her way to the pervert, it didn’t take much to convince him to allow the sexy adult cheerleader to give him a lap dance. She was in her twenties, but in the pervert's mind, he probably went elsewhere.

Mara was in the middle of the lap dance and in the zone when she heard a familiar voice, “What’s up, Snowbunny!”

She looks up and sees Dre. Filming. Her shaved pussy was fully on display because the old perv had been pulling it up throughout the dance.