As the meet and greet wound down, the energy in the room was electric—men still cheering, eyes glued to Stiles’s cum-streaked, flushed body in her tiny bra and thong. Mr. Argent stepped on stage with a microphone, grinning sleazily. “Alright, gentlemen, we’ve saved the best for last. A special announcement: One lucky fan wins a private session with our shy star Stiles tonight! All ticket holders are entered—let’s draw the name!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, whistles, and chants of “Private fuck! Private fuck!” An event boy wheeled out a glass bowl filled with slips of paper—names of every paid attendee. Stiles, still shyly wiping cum from her tits, reached in with trembling fingers, pulling out a slip. She unfolded it, pink lips parting. “The winner is… Peter!”