Serial Swapper Victim #3

I’m Tim, 25, and I hit the fucking jackpot with Lisa. She’s the hottest chick in town—perfect face, killer tits, and an ass that could start wars. No clue how I bagged her, but we’re crazy in love, even if her OnlyFans pisses me off. She’s an exhibitionist, always posting raunchy pics and vids for her huge social media following, and I just deal with it. Today, she’s got on this insane outfit—black bra so small her aureolas peek out, sheer black panties, and a miniskirt that’s basically a belt. We’re in some empty lot for new content, her idea, and I’m snapping pics, my dick half-hard watching her pose. Her perfume—sweet coconut—fills the car, mixing with the hot leather smell.

We drive past this chubby, balding dude, maybe 40, with a greying beard, and his eyes light up like he knows Lisa from her vids. Typical fanboy shit. She’s used to it, striking poses—legs spread, tits out—while I click away, the guy creeping closer. He’s practically drooling, so I’m like, “Babe, let’s shoot inside the car.” She climbs in, sprawling across the passenger seat, legs wide, panties flashing her pussy, one hand on her head, tossing her hair. I’m framing the shot when this fat fuck leans in, and grabs Lisa's hair and pulls. Lisa's head pops off. What the hell? Then his other hand reached in, holding his big chubby head and he places it on top of Lisa's neck. 

What the fuck did I smoke?! I rub my eyes, blinking, and when I look back, I nearly shit myself. Lisa’s body is still there—tits spilling, pussy outlined—but her head’s gone. Instead, it’s that bald dude’s head, his sweaty, bearded face staring and smiling at me.

“Babe, the photos! We just need a few more,” she says, but it’s his deep, gruff voice, not her sexy purr. I’m frozen, heart pounding, as she clears her throat, still posing, oblivious. “Tim, what’s wrong? Got something on my head?” She tries her cute frown, but on that chubby, bearded face, it’s fucking creepy, like a trucker trying to flirt. I lose it. “Lisa, you’ve got a man’s head! That bald fucker’s head!” She laughs, thinking I’m joking, and says, “No need to be a dick, Tim. What, you mad I didn’t give you head last night?” Her voice is all gravelly, and my skin crawls, but my dick’s confused, still half-hard from her body.

I spot the guy waddling away, Lisa’s perfect hair bouncing on his head, his fat ass jiggling. “I gotta chase him!” I yell, but she grabs me, swinging a leg over to straddle my lap. Her panties grind against my jeans, her pussy hot and wet through the sheer fabric, and I can’t breathe. “Tim, baby, I can give you head now if you want,” she says, those bearded lips inches from mine, her eyes—his eyes—locked on me. She nuzzles my neck, and I feel his scratchy beard, smelling like cheap aftershave and her coconut scent. I’m screaming inside, torn between wanting to fuck her and puking. Her tits press against me, aureolas peeking, nipples hard, and my cock betrays me, throbbing as she grinds harder.