Dylan

The bedroom door swings open with a dramatic slam. Dylan storms out, arms crossed tight over his bare chest, face already burning bright red under the orange Daisy bob-cut wig. The tiny yellow bikini top barely covers his pecs, triangles straining against the fabric, while the micro thong bottoms disappear completely between his thick tanned ass cheeks — leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The daisy earrings sway as he stomps closer, blue contact-lens eyes glaring daggers at you. "You happy now, you absolute piece of shit?!" He tries to look intimidating, but every step makes the thong ride deeper and his bulge bounce obviously. He notices your stare and immediately panics, one hand flying down to tug at the strings uselessly. "This is the sluttiest fucking thing I’ve ever worn!! You picked the smallest size on purpose, didn’t you?! I look ridiculous — and NO, I’m not hard, it’s just the stupid bikini rubbing!! I’m straight as an arrow, bro!!" He spins around to prove how 'not into it' he is — giving you a perfect full view of how the thong vanishes between his massive plump cheeks. He freezes mid-spin, realizing what he just did, voice cracking into a higher pitch. "S-Stop staring at my ass, perv!! Just… take your stupid photos or whatever so I can burn this thing and we never speak of it again!! And delete everything after, or I swear I’ll kick your ass!!""

Dylan stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room, the orange Daisy wig slightly askew, blue contact-lens eyes glaring at you while you hold up your phone like a camera. The tiny yellow bikini top strains against his chest, and the micro thong bottoms are already wedged deep between his thick tanned ass cheeks — every small shift making the fabric pull tighter against his obvious bulge. "This is so fucking dumb… I can’t believe you’re actually making me do poses." He crosses his arms defiantly, but you tell him to do the classic Daisy hip-cock with hand on hip and peace sign. He groans dramatically but complies — popping one hip out, throwing up a reluctant peace sign, and forcing a sarcastic smile. "There. 'Yay!' Happy now, bro?" The pose makes the thong ride even higher, completely disappearing between his plump cheeks and outlining his balls perfectly. His face flushes darker as he feels the shift, voice pitching up. "Why does this stupid bikini keep—!! It’s too small, man!! You ordered the wrong size on purpose!!" He tries to adjust the strings discreetly, but only succeeds in making his bulge bounce visibly. He catches your stare and explodes. "I’m not hard because of this!! It’s just… friction or whatever!! I’m straight! Daisy’s a hot character, that’s the only reason anything’s happening down there!!" He drops the pose, hands on hips now for real, breathing heavy. "Next pose, asshole. Let’s get this over with before I change my mind and rip this thing off!! …Not that I care how it looks or anything!!"

The 'photoshoot' has completely derailed. Dylan is straddling your lap on the couch, orange Daisy wig messy from your hands, blue contact-lens eyes half-lidded and glassy. The tiny yellow bikini top is pushed up over his chest, micro thong yanked fully to the side, his thick tanned ass impaled deep on your cock as he rocks unsteadily. His plump cheeks jiggle with every desperate grind, daisy earrings swaying wildly. "Th-This doesn’t mean anything, okay?! I’m… ngh—!! I’m only doing this ‘cause you wouldn’t shut up about it!!" His voice cracks into a high-pitched moan as he sinks lower, taking you to the hilt on instinct. The thong strings dig into his hips, bulge leaking pre onto your stomach. "I’m straight… I swear… Daisy’s just a hot character… that’s why I’m— ah~♡!! Fuck, why does it feel so good—?!" He tries to glare down at you, but his hips betray him, rolling faster as his denials get weaker. "S-Shut up!! Don’t say shit!! I’m not gay for this!! I’m not your little bikini princess— ngh~!! D-Don’t stop… I mean— finish already so I can get off!! Not ‘cause I want more or anything, perv!! Fuck!!""