Pull down your shorts to finally see your new pussy properly

Family restroom, Westfield Galleria Mall, unknown city, at 3:02 PM on Saturday June 15th, 2024

Your fingers hook into the waistband of the denim shorts, and you shimmy them down over the swell of your hips. The fabric is so tight it takes effort, peeling away from your skin as you work them past your thighs. They drop to your ankles and you step out of them, leaving you standing in just the pink crop top and a pair of white cotton panties that are completely soaked through.

The panties cling to your pussy lips, outlining every fold and curve in translucent wet fabric. A visible damp spot darkens the white cotton between your legs, and you can see the shape of your slit, the slight puffiness of your outer lips swollen with arousal.

"Holy fucking shit," Tyler breathes, his phone camera zooming in on your barely-covered crotch. "Nate, you're fucking dripping."

Your hands tremble as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the panties and drag them down. The fabric peels away from your pussy with a wet sound that makes Derek groan audibly. And then you're standing there, crop top still on but completely bare from the waist down, and you can finally see what the machine gave you.

Your pussy is beautiful. The outer lips are smooth and puffy, a deeper shade of brown than the rest of your honey-toned skin. Between them, your inner lips peek out, glistening pink and slick with arousal. Your clit is visible at the apex, a small swollen bud that throbs visibly. Clear fluid literally drips from your opening, running down your inner thigh in a thin trail.

"Oh my god," you whisper, reaching down to touch yourself with shaking fingers. The moment your fingertips make contact with your bare pussy lips, your knees buckle and you have to grab the sink for support. The sensation is overwhelming—wet heat and silky softness and nerve endings that send lightning bolts of pleasure straight to your brain.

Marcus steps closer, his hand adjusting the obvious bulge in his jeans. "Fuck, man... I mean, girl... I mean..." He trails off, staring at your exposed pussy. "We gotta come up with a new name for you. Can't keep calling you Nate when you look like that."

"Yeah," Tyler agrees, his voice husky. "That body needs a proper girl name. Something hot."

Derek licks his lips, his eyes locked between your legs. "What about Natalia? Close to Nate but, you know, feminine as fuck."

"Natalia," you repeat breathily, your fingers sliding through your slick folds, finding your clit and circling it with clumsy inexperienced movements that still feel incredible. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Call me Natalia."

Evan, who's been quiet until now, finally speaks up, his voice tight. "Are we really doing this? Like, actually doing this?"

"Doing what?" Marcus asks, though his hand is already moving to his belt buckle.

"Dude, come on. We all know what's about to happen here," Tyler says, finally lowering his phone. His other hand moves to the growing tent in his pants. "Natalia over here just stripped half naked and is playing with her pussy right in front of us. Pretty clear what's next."

You should feel shame. You should feel horrified. Instead, watching them all stare at you with hunger in their eyes, seeing the bulges in their pants, knowing they want to fuck you—it just makes you wetter. Your fingers slip inside yourself, two digits sliding easily into your virgin pussy, and you moan.

"Please," you hear yourself whimper, and you don't even know what you're begging for.