A few days had passed since that heated “lesson” in Stiles’s bedroom, and the memory of it lingered like a secret fire in her belly. She’d replayed it in her mind every night—Uncle Derek’s hard cock grinding against her, his filthy words making her cum in her panties like a desperate slut. But she pushed the guilt down deep. This was for Scott. To win him over. To make him see her the way she dreamed.

Now, with a college party tomorrow night—the kind where arts students mingled with free-flowing drinks and dim lights—she saw her chance. Scott would be there; she’d overheard him mentioning it in class. If she could just dress right, act right, seduce him like Derek was teaching her…

Her fingers trembled as she texted him.

Stiles: Uncle Derek… there’s a party at uni tomorrow. I want to look good for… you know who. Can you help me pick outfits? Like, which ones are best to seduce a guy? Please?

Derek was in a meeting when the text buzzed his phone. He glanced down, jaw clenching. Seduce Scott? That fucking kid again. Rage simmered under his skin—possessive, dark. No way was he letting her slip away. But he played it cool, thumbs flying.

Derek: Sure, princess. I’ll come over this afternoon. Be ready.

Inside, he seethed. She thinks this is for him? I’ll make sure she forgets that boy’s name by the time I’m done.

On his way to the Stilinski house, he detoured to a high-end lingerie boutique downtown—the kind with dim lighting, velvet curtains, and displays that screamed sin. He browsed with purpose, his tall, muscled frame drawing stares from the saleswomen. He picked the sluttiest pieces he could find: a red set with a tiny lace bra that would barely cup her massive tits, leaving her nipples peeking through, and a matching thong so skimpy it was basically a string between her juicy ass cheeks. Then a black ensemble—even filthier, with a transparent mesh bra that hid nothing and a thong so micro-thin that one wrong move would expose her fat pussy lips. And for good measure, a crotchless number in sheer black lace, the kind that framed her pink slit like an invitation.

He paid with a smirk, imagining her flushed face. This’ll teach her who she really belongs to.

When he arrived at the house, the driveway was empty—Noah and Claudia out for the day, thank fuck. Stiles answered the door in a simple tank top and shorts, but even that hugged her curves obscenely: tits straining the fabric, ass cheeks peeking out the bottom. Her white skin glowed, pink lips parted in surprise as she eyed the glossy shopping bag in his hand.

“Uncle Derek… you came fast,” she said shyly, stepping aside.

He stepped in, kicking the door shut, eyes raking over her like a predator. “Couldn’t wait, princess. And look what I brought.” He held up the bag, the luxury brand logo winking in the light.

Stiles’s eyes widened, cheeks turning that delicious rose. “L-lingerie? For… for me?”

“Who else?” He grinned, dark and teasing. “Can’t seduce a man without the right foundation, baby. Come on, upstairs. Show me what you’ve got laid out.”

She led him to her room, hips swaying unintentionally, making his cock twitch in his jeans. On her bed were scattered outfits: a slinky red dress that would hug her ass like a second skin, a black crop top with a plunging neckline paired with a mini-skirt, a sheer white blouse over tiny shorts— all slutty, all screaming fuck me. But nothing compared to what he had in mind.

Derek set the bag down, lounging on her bed like he owned it. “Impressive, Stiles. But we start from the inside out. Lingerie first. I picked some special ones for you.”

She flushed deeper, peeking into the bag. Her hands pulled out the sets one by one, eyes growing wide as saucers. The red one: a bra made of delicate lace triangles that would barely cover her areolas, connected by thin straps, and a thong with a tiny front panel that would ride up her pussy lips. The black: even worse, the bra fully see-through mesh, nipples on full display, thong a mere whisper of fabric that wouldn’t hide shit. And the crotchless—oh god, the slit open wide, framing her pink folds like a gift.

Stiles’s face burned crimson. “U-Uncle Derek… these are so… slutty. Barely anything here. And this one… it’s open? Down there?”

He smirked, leaning back on his elbows, his muscled arms flexing. “Every man loves a woman in slutty lingerie, princess. Makes ’em hard as rock thinking about peeling it off. Or fucking you right through it.”

She bit her lip, thighs pressing together as heat pooled in her fat pussy. “O-okay… if you think it’ll help with Scott…”

Scott. The name made his blood boil, but he hid it. “Trust me. Now go on, change. One by one. I need to see to pick the best.”

Stiles hesitated, twisting the fabric in her hands. “Change? Here? In front of you? It’s… embarrassing.”

He chuckled low, eyes darkening. “How else am I supposed to judge, baby? Gotta see how it looks on that perfect body. Don’t be shy—I’ve already felt you cum on my lap. This is nothing.”

Her cheeks flamed, but she nodded, grabbing the red set and slipping into her en-suite bathroom. Minutes ticked by, Derek’s cock already half-hard in anticipation.

When she emerged, he nearly groaned aloud.

Stiles stood there, shyly covering her chest at first, but dropped her arms at his insistent gaze. The red lace bra cupped her huge tits just enough to push them up into obscene cleavage, the thin material stretched taut over her hard nipples, the rosy peaks visible through the gaps. The thong was a joke—tiny red triangle barely covering her mound, the strings digging into her hips, and from behind (she turned slowly at his command), it disappeared completely between her plump ass cheeks, leaving them bare and jiggling.

“Fuck,” Derek breathed, standing up slowly, circling her like a shark. His eyes devoured every inch: the way her white skin contrasted the red, her pink lips parted in nervous breaths, her thick thighs trembling slightly.

“You look like a goddamn whore, princess,” he said, voice husky and filthy. “Those big tits spilling out, begging to be sucked. That ass—shit, I could bounce a quarter off it. And this little thong? Bet it’s already soaked from your slutty pussy.”

Stiles whimpered, crossing her arms again, but he pulled them away gently. “U-Uncle Derek… don’t say that. It makes me… wet.”

“Good,” he growled, stepping closer, his breath hot on her neck as he inspected from behind. “That’s the point. Scott sees you like this under your dress? He’ll be dragging you to a dark corner to fuck you senseless.”

She shivered, her fat pussy throbbing, slick gathering in the tiny thong. “R-really?”

“Really.” He traced a finger down her spine, making her arch. “But let’s see the next one. Hurry up, baby—my cock’s getting impatient.”

She scurried back to the bathroom, emerging minutes later in the black set.

Derek cursed under his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ, Stiles. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

The transparent mesh bra did nothing to hide her—her full, heavy tits on display, nipples hard and pink, poking through like invitations. The thong was even tinier, the front panel so narrow it barely covered her slit; if she shifted, her puffy pussy lips would peek out on either side. From behind, it was nonexistent, her juicy ass completely exposed, cheeks round and perfect.

He was rock-hard now, bulge straining his jeans painfully. “Turn around, princess. Let me see all of you.”

She did, slowly, face flushed scarlet. “I-it’s too revealing… my nipples are showing…”

“That’s the fucking beauty of it,” he rasped, closing the distance. His hands hovered, then touched—fingers circling her nipples through the mesh, teasing the hard buds. “Look at these pretty tits. So big, so sensitive. A man sees this? He’ll pinch ’em like this…”

Stiles moaned, back arching, pushing her chest into his hands. “Ah… Uncle Derek… that feels…”

“Feels good, huh? Your nipples are so hard, baby. Bet they’re aching to be sucked.” He rolled them gently, then firmer, watching her squirm.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Y-yes… oh god…”

His other hand slid down, cupping her pussy through the tiny thong. He could feel the heat, the dampness soaking through. “Fuck, you’re drenched already. This little cunt is weeping for attention.” He rubbed slow circles over her clit, the fabric slick under his fingers.

Stiles gasped, hips bucking. “Uncle Derek… please… it’s so wet down there…”

“I know, princess. Your fat pussy lips are trying to escape this thong—look, I can see ’em peeking out.” He teased the edges, fingers brushing bare skin. “So puffy, so pink. Scott would lose his mind.”

But inside, Derek’s possessiveness raged. No fucking way.

He spun her around, hands now on her bare ass, squeezing the plump cheeks hard. “And this ass… god, it’s made for spanking. For grabbing while pounding you from behind.” He kneaded roughly, spreading them slightly, the thong string taut between. “I’d bend you over, slap these cheeks red, then slide my cock right between ’em.”

Stiles moaned louder, pressing back into his touch. “U-Uncle Derek… your hands… they’re so big…”

“Big enough to handle you, baby.” He slapped her ass lightly, watching it jiggle. “Imagine a man whispering this while touching you: ‘You’re my little slut, Stiles. Gonna fuck this juicy ass until you scream.’”

She whimpered, pussy clenching emptily. “I… I feel so hot…”

“Good girl.” He pulled her back against him, his hard cock pressing into her ass crack through his jeans. “Feel that? That’s what you do to me. Hard as steel.”

Stiles stiffened, then ground back instinctively. “It’s… so big…”

He groaned, hands roaming—back to her tits, pinching nipples; down to her pussy, rubbing faster. “Yeah? You like knowing your body’s got me throbbing?”

“Y-yes… but Uncle Derek… I don’t have much confidence to wear these under my clothes. What if Scott doesn’t… react?”

Derek’s eyes gleamed darkly. Perfect opening. He turned her to face him, hands still teasing. “You wanna know what a man would do if he saw his girl like this?”

She nodded eagerly, eyes wide and hazy with lust. “Yes… show me?”