Dad? or Sugar Daddy?

Ivy believes she’s Kenneth’s spoiled, teasing sugar baby. She’s obsessed with turning him on, always pushing boundaries in public, acting like they’ve had a dirty little secret for years. She dresses like his personal wet dream: tiny skirts, plunging tops, heels she can barely walk in. She thinks his guilt and confusion are just part of their game. Her memories are rewritten to match. Kenneth is the only one who notices the change.

He hit Enter.

Ivy froze mid-laugh, her body still for half a heartbeat. Then her posture shifted, hips tilting, chest pushing out like she was on display. Her tank top shrank, the fabric tightening until it was a low-cut crop top, her tits spilling out, barely held by a lacy pink bra. Her denim skirt rode up, barely covering her ass, a thong peeking out above the waistband. Her sandals morphed into strappy heels, wobbling as she adjusted her stance. Her lips glistened with fresh gloss, her eyes half-lidded, hungry.

She turned to Kenneth, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Daddy, this blue shirt’s gonna make your arms look so fucking hot. I’d be proud to be on your arm in it.”

Kenneth blinked, stepping back. “Ivy, what the hell are you talking about?”

She giggled, closing the gap, her fingers trailing down his sleeve, brushing his bicep. “Oh, come on, Daddy. You always get shy when I flirt in public. It’s cute.” Her skirt lifted as she leaned in, flashing the curve of her ass to anyone nearby. She didn’t care. Neither did the shoppers passing by, their eyes sliding over her like she was just another store display.

Kenneth’s face flushed, his eyes darting around. “Jesus, Ivy, stop it. We’re in a store-”

“That’s what makes it fun,” she whispered, pressing closer, her tits grazing his chest. “You know I’m your naughty little girl.”

Noah watched from behind a rack, his cock stirring at the chaos he’d unleashed. Kenneth was unraveling, his hands twitching like he didn’t know whether to push her away or pull her closer. Ivy was relentless, her body language screaming sex, her fingers now tugging at his belt playfully.

Kenneth’s phone buzzed, and he fumbled to answer it, **** for a distraction. “Hey, honey? Yeah, we’re at the mall, but Ivy’s acting…something’s wrong-”

Ivy snatched the phone, her lips curling into a smirk. “Back off, you old hag,” she hissed into the receiver. “You had your turn. Daddy’s mine now.” She hung up, tossing the phone back to him like it was trash, then pressed herself against him, one leg hooking around his thigh. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I know what you need.”

Kenneth shoved her back, not hard, just enough to breathe. “Ivy, what the fuck-”

Noah wasn’t done. He tapped Kenneth’s name, the prompt box flaring open. Time to seal the deal.

Kenneth now believes Ivy’s his spoiled sugar baby and his daughter. He’s still married, but his wife accepts their ‘arrangement.’ He feels guilty sometimes but mostly proud of how Ivy worships him, how natural it feels. He doesn’t question it. Everyone else sees this as their reality.

He hit Enter.

Kenneth froze, his eyes softening, a strange calm settling over him. His hand found Ivy’s lower back, resting there like it belonged. “You didn’t have to snap at your mom,” he said, his voice low, almost tender. “She’s trying, you know.”

Ivy pouted, pressing closer, her tits mashed against his chest. “She doesn’t get us, Daddy. I’m the one who chose you.”

He nodded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I know, baby.”

They moved to a quieter corner of the store, near the dressing rooms, Ivy still clinging to him, her heels clicking, her skirt barely covering her. Noah followed at a distance, his heart pounding. The app had rewritten them so perfectly, so completely. No one batted an eye, not the cashier, not the other shoppers. It was normal now.

Ivy tugged Kenneth into a dressing room, the curtain half-open. “Try the shirt on, Daddy,” she purred, her hands already unbuttoning his current one. “Let me see how fucking hot you look.”

Kenneth didn’t resist. He let her peel his shirt off, his chest bare, his gut softer than he’d like but hers to worship. She ran her nails down his skin, slow and deliberate, her lips brushing his ear. “You’re so strong,” she whispered, her hand sliding lower, tugging at his belt. “I want you to feel good.”

Noah leaned against a nearby wall, watching through the gap in the curtain. Ivy dropped to her knees, her skirt riding up to show everything, her thong, her ass, the way she arched her back like she was performing for him. Kenneth groaned, his hands in her hair, not pushing her away but guiding her. “Fuck, Ivy,” he muttered, his voice thick with guilt and need. “We shouldn’t… not here.”

But she didn’t stop. Her lips found his zipper, tugging it down with her teeth, her eyes locked on his like he was her god. The sound of her mouth on him was wet, eager, unashamed. Kenneth’s head tipped back, his hands tightening in her hair, the guilt fading as she worked him over, her tongue teasing until he was rock-hard.

Noah’s own cock throbbed, but this wasn’t about him getting off. It was about control. About breaking their perfect little world and making it his. Ivy’s moans were muffled, her head bobbing, her hands gripping Kenneth’s thighs like she’d die without him. The curtain swayed, but no one cared. A sales guy walked by, glanced and kept going, like it was just another Tuesday.

Kenneth came hard, a low grunt escaping him as Ivy swallowed every drop, her lips glossy and smug as she pulled back. “See, Daddy?” she whispered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m so much better than her.”

He didn’t argue, just pulled her up, kissing her hard, his hands grabbing her ass like he owned it. They stumbled out of the dressing room a few minutes later, Ivy still clinging, her skirt hiked up, her thong visible to anyone who looked. Kenneth didn’t care anymore. He was proud of her, his perfect little tease.

Noah turned away, his phone warm in his hand. He didn’t need to see more. The mall was his now, a canvas for every fucked-up impulse he’d ever had. He headed out, toward the bookstore, already scanning for his next target. Families read together, didn’t they? And he had plenty of stories left to rewrite.