Marcus's heart pounded like a war drum in his chest as he slipped through the creaky side door of the sorority house, the cool night air clinging to his skin like a secretive whisper. The old Victorian building loomed around him, its wooden floors groaning under his weight, and the faint scent of lavender and vanilla potpourri mixed with the musty aroma of aged carpets, creating an intoxicating blend that made his pulse quicken. He'd been dared by his fraternity brothers to pull off this classic panty raid, a rite of passage that promised bragging rights and a boost to his standing among the guys. But as he crouched in the darkened hallway, his sneakers silent on the plush runner, Marcus couldn't help but reflect on the thrill of it all—the forbidden excitement of invading this feminine sanctuary, where laughter and secrets lingered in the air like ghosts of past parties.

His mind wandered to the task at hand, igniting a flurry of fantasies that sent a warm flush creeping up his neck. What kind of panties would he find? Silk ones, soft and shimmering like moonlight on water, or perhaps lace-trimmed cotton that hinted at the wearer's playful personality? He imagined sliding open a drawer to reveal a rainbow of colors—pale pinks, bold reds, maybe even something daring like black satin—and the thought made his fingers tingle with anticipation. Marcus had always been drawn to these intimate glimpses into women's lives, a secret curiosity that simmered beneath his bold exterior. It wasn't just about the prank; it was the idea of holding something so personal, so close to the skin of a woman he might never meet, that stirred something deeper within him—a mix of adrenaline and a subtle, unnamed desire that made his breaths come quicker as he crept further into the house.

The hallway opened into a labyrinth of rooms, each door a potential treasure trove, and Marcus moved with the caution of a thief in the night, his eyes darting to the shadows where moonlight filtered through lace curtains. His hands trembled slightly as he pushed open the first door, revealing a cluttered bedroom bathed in the soft glow of a streetlamp outside. He rifled through a dresser drawer, his fingers brushing against silky fabrics that sent electric jolts through his body—the smooth texture of nylon, the delicate edges of elastic, each item whispering tales of the women who wore them. His heart raced, a symphony of thumping beats echoing in his ears, as the erotic tension built like a storm on the horizon. The air felt heavier here, charged with the faint, lingering perfume of its occupant, and Marcus paused for a moment, savoring the rush of vulnerability and power that coursed through him, wondering if this was what it felt like to dance on the edge of exposure.

Just as he snatched a pair of pale blue panties from the drawer, their fabric cool and inviting against his palm, a floorboard creaked behind him. He froze, the world narrowing to the sound of his own ragged breathing, before a voice cut through the silence like a knife. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The words were sharp, laced with amusement rather than anger, and Marcus spun around to face the source. There she was, framed in the doorway like a vision from his earlier fantasies—Lucy, her dark hair tousled from sleep, wearing nothing but a oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her curves. Her eyes, a striking green that caught the dim light, widened in initial confusion, then narrowed with a spark of recognition as she took in the scene. She was taller than he'd expected, with a confident stance that made the room feel smaller, and the way she tilted her head, a smirk playing at her lips, sent a shiver down his spine.

Lucy's gaze dropped to the panties clutched in Marcus's hand, and her expression shifted from surprise to something more playful, a mischievous glint that made his stomach twist. "Oh, I see," she said, her voice low and teasing, stepping closer with the grace of a cat. "Fraternity boys and their little games. You're from Alpha whatever, aren't you? Sneaking in here like some amateur spy." Marcus opened his mouth to stammer an excuse, his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and an unexpected thrill at her proximity. She smelled of fresh soap and something faintly floral, and as she reached out to pluck the panties from his grasp, her fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. There was an undeniable attraction in the air, a magnetic pull that made his knees weaken, but Lucy's dominant presence kept him rooted in place, her eyes locking onto his with a challenge that promised more than just a simple confrontation.

As the seconds stretched, Marcus felt a wave of humiliation wash over him, yet beneath it simmered a strange, intoxicating pleasure. Lucy circled him slowly, her T-shirt swaying with each step, and he couldn't help but notice the way her confidence radiated like heat from a fire. "You know, most guys would run right now," she murmured, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of flirtation, "but you're still here. Interesting." Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities, and Marcus's mind raced with the realization that this encounter might lead to something far beyond his original plan—a night of teasing and self-discovery that could unravel the layers of his impulsive nature. The room seemed to pulse with tension, the faint rustle of fabric and their shared breaths filling the space, as Lucy's playful dominance began to weave its spell, drawing him deeper into the erotic adventure he never saw coming.

The room seemed to pulse with tension, the faint rustle of fabric and their shared breaths filling the space, as Lucy's playful dominance began to weave its spell, drawing him deeper into the erotic adventure he never saw coming. She took another step closer, her green eyes locking onto his with a predatory gleam that made Marcus's throat tighten, the air between them thick with the scent of her floral shampoo and the underlying musk of his own nervousness. "So, what's it going to be, frat boy?" she purred, tilting her head as her oversized T-shirt slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of smooth skin. "You can strip naked right here for me, or I can call the campus police and let them deal with your little burglary attempt. Your choice—but I have a feeling you'd rather keep this between us." Her voice was a velvet whip, laced with amusement and a hint of challenge, and Marcus felt a flush creep up his neck, his mind racing with the implications of her words. The ultimatum hung in the air like a dare, stirring something primal within him—a mix of fear and forbidden excitement that made his pulse throb in his ears.

Marcus hesitated, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he tried to muster some semblance of bravado, but the way Lucy's gaze roved over him, assessing and appreciative, shattered his resolve. He shifted on his feet, acutely aware of the growing heat in his groin, his cock stirring traitorously against the fabric of his jeans as if it had a mind of its own. "I—I don't know," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, attempting to adjust his stance to hide the burgeoning bulge, but Lucy's smirk widened, her eyes flicking downward with a knowing glint. "Oh, come on, don't be shy," she teased, stepping even closer until he could feel the warmth radiating from her body, her breath a soft whisper against his cheek. "I can see you're already getting into the spirit of things. Now, strip—slowly—or I'll make that call." The command in her tone was irresistible, and with a surge of humiliated arousal, Marcus began to comply, his fingers fumbling with the hem of his shirt as he pulled it over his head, exposing his chest to the cool air. Lucy's laughter was light and mocking, her eyes drinking in the sight of his toned muscles and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, her words a playful taunt that only fueled the fire building inside him.

As he tossed the shirt aside, Marcus felt his arousal intensify, his cock hardening further with each passing second under her watchful gaze, the fabric of his jeans growing uncomfortably tight. The room's dim light cast shadows across his body, highlighting the way his breaths came in shallow gasps, and he couldn't help but confess in a rush of vulnerability, "This... this turns me on, okay? The humiliation, the control—I've always fantasized about it, but I never thought it'd happen like this." The admission spilled out unbidden, raw and honest, deepening the erotic charge between them as Lucy's expression shifted to one of intrigued delight. She bit her lower lip, her own breathing quickening, and Marcus sensed a spark of genuine connection in her eyes, a shared understanding that this was more than just a game. His heart raced, a cocktail of shame and exhilaration coursing through his veins, making his skin tingle as if her gaze alone could set him alight.

Lucy circled him once more, her fingers trailing lightly along his arm, sending shivers up his spine as she savored the moment. "Slower, Marcus," she instructed, her voice dropping to a husky whisper that wrapped around him like a caress. "I want to enjoy this—take your time, let me really look at you." He obeyed, his hands moving to the button of his jeans with deliberate hesitation, the metallic click echoing in the tense silence as he slid them down his legs, leaving him standing in just his boxers. The fabric strained against his erection, the outline of his cock clearly visible, and he felt exposed in a way that was both terrifying and intoxicating, the cool air brushing against his bare skin like a lover's teasing touch. Sexual tension coiled in the air between them, thick and palpable, as Lucy's eyes roamed over his body, appreciating the way his muscles tensed and his chest rose with each breath, her presence amplifying every sensation.

Then, without warning, Lucy's hand darted forward, hooking into the waistband of his boxers with a swift, playful tug that yanked them down to his ankles in one fluid motion. His cock sprang free, bouncing slightly in the open air, the sudden exposure making him gasp as it stood erect and throbbing, the head flushed a deep red. Lucy burst into excited laughter, her eyes widening with delight as she took in the sight, her voice ringing out in a mix of mockery and genuine arousal. "Oh my god, look at that! You're practically springing to attention for me," she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on his rigid length, tracing the veins along the shaft with a hungry curiosity. Marcus's face burned with shame, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself, but the way her words washed over him—teasing, probing—only made his cock twitch and grow harder, the humiliation fueling his desire in ways he couldn't comprehend.

Lucy's teasing escalated, her words a sensual barrage that gauged his every reaction with precision. "You're loving this, aren't you? Standing here naked, your cock out and begging for attention—it's pathetic, but so hot," she murmured, stepping closer until her body was mere inches from his, her T-shirt brushing against his bare skin and sending electric jolts through him. The heat from her proximity made his senses reel, the faint scent of her arousal mingling with the room's lavender air, and Marcus felt his penis swell even more, defying his efforts to remain composed. He was trapped in the web of her dominance, his body

[CFNM/ENM] The Panty Raid