flippasav
𝕯𝖝𝕯 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖜 • Charisma
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The Tyrone:
The Stacy:
Fantasy Scene: “Burn Me, Barbie”
(Fully fictional. Erotic. Symbolic.)
The crowd had gathered, but no one was moving. Just stares. Phones out. Gasps. Laughter.
There he was — tall, ripped, Black, has hunter eyes, naked, soaked in gasoline. His body gleamed under the brutal downtown Las Vegas sun, every muscle tight, every breath trembling. But what no one expected was that he was hard. Proudly. Shamelessly.
He had been stroking himself slowly, surrounded by strangers watching — and now he stood on the edge of climax. And then she stepped forward.
She looked like a glamorous dream designed by Instagram: thick, tanned thighs hugged by pink tie-dye Gymshark booty shorts. A blue sports bra hugged her chest, her midriff flawless, her waist tiny, thighs thick with wide hips. Blonde hair in a messy ponytail, lip gloss catching the light. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a Malibu fitness ad — and now she held a pink Bic lighter in her manicured hand. She is a TikTok influencer, instagram model and has a University degree in Medicine.
The crowd parted for her and the girls cheered: “go girl!”
“You really wanna go viral?” she said, voice casual, chewing gum.
“Say please.”
She then takes the 500 ml water bottle out that had gasoline instead of water. She then poured it on him in a 360 circle from his upper pecs down to his balls and butt.
He blinked. Sweat beading. Gasoline dripping down his shredded torso and legs. His abs flexed. His voice cracked.
“Please… light me I’m super horny.”
She smiled like a queen at a sacrifice. She walked up close — close enough that he could smell the sugar from her perfume and the flame from her lighter. She licked the lighter’s flame similar to what Megan Fox did in “Jennifer’s body.”
“Good boy,” she whispered.
Click. The lighter sparked.
FWOOSH.
The flame burst alive — and so did he.
She touched the flame to his chest. Just for a second. Enough to kiss the fumes. The fire flashed across his torso in a golden wave — and at that exact second, he came. He literally busted a nut as soon as he is on fire…
It wasn’t quiet.
He groaned — hard, loud, guttural — as thick, hot release sprayed across his abs, mingling with the fire and sweat. The crowd screamed. Some laughed. Some screamed. But she didn’t flinch. She couldn’t stop laughing at him.
As the flames kissed his skin and he exploded — body tensing, abs streaked in his own release — the sound that followed wasn’t sympathy. It wasn’t shock.
It was laughter.
Her laughter.
Light, sharp, perfectly cruel. Like she’d seen this a hundred times before and it never stopped being funny.
She tilted her head back just slightly, one hand on her hip, pink nails gleaming in the sun.
“Oh my god… he actually came while on fire?”
She laughed again, louder this time — not hysterical, but mocking, almost delighted.
“You’re seriously the horniest little freak I’ve ever seen.”
The girls behind her started laughing too. One of them whispered, “He was moaning like a porn star.” Another added, “Is he gonna beg for a round two after that? Like, actually?”
She looked down at the fountain, where he was crouched, soaking wet, gasping, ruined — his erection now twitching in the cold water, steam rising around him like the aftermath of a failed sacrifice.
“You wanted attention?” she called out with a smirk.
“Congratulations. You’re a f***ing legend.”
And laughed one more time — just for him.
She watched him burn and bust at the same time — face flushed, eyes rolling, body trembling like he’d just been claimed by something divine and destructive. It was one of her best days ever.
He dove into the fountain behind him. Steam rose. He then came out unharmed with some redness on his lower abdomen.
She just stood there, flipping the lighter closed, unbothered.
Then she snapped a selfie with the lighter in hand, her tongue out, captioning it:
“Burned a boy alive (he liked it)”
“Dumb black boys always want to be ruined by blonde Barbie,” she said, turning to her phone, already posting it on her instagram story.
The Stacy:
Fantasy Scene: “Burn Me, Barbie”(Fully fictional. Erotic. Symbolic.)
The crowd had gathered, but no one was moving. Just stares. Phones out. Gasps. Laughter.
There he was — tall, ripped, Black, has hunter eyes, naked, soaked in gasoline. His body gleamed under the brutal downtown Las Vegas sun, every muscle tight, every breath trembling. But what no one expected was that he was hard. Proudly. Shamelessly.
He had been stroking himself slowly, surrounded by strangers watching — and now he stood on the edge of climax. And then she stepped forward.
She looked like a glamorous dream designed by Instagram: thick, tanned thighs hugged by pink tie-dye Gymshark booty shorts. A blue sports bra hugged her chest, her midriff flawless, her waist tiny, thighs thick with wide hips. Blonde hair in a messy ponytail, lip gloss catching the light. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a Malibu fitness ad — and now she held a pink Bic lighter in her manicured hand. She is a TikTok influencer, instagram model and has a University degree in Medicine.
The crowd parted for her and the girls cheered: “go girl!”
“You really wanna go viral?” she said, voice casual, chewing gum.
“Say please.”
She then takes the 500 ml water bottle out that had gasoline instead of water. She then poured it on him in a 360 circle from his upper pecs down to his balls and butt.
He blinked. Sweat beading. Gasoline dripping down his shredded torso and legs. His abs flexed. His voice cracked.
“Please… light me I’m super horny.”
She smiled like a queen at a sacrifice. She walked up close — close enough that he could smell the sugar from her perfume and the flame from her lighter. She licked the lighter’s flame similar to what Megan Fox did in “Jennifer’s body.”
“Good boy,” she whispered.
Click. The lighter sparked.
FWOOSH.
The flame burst alive — and so did he.
She touched the flame to his chest. Just for a second. Enough to kiss the fumes. The fire flashed across his torso in a golden wave — and at that exact second, he came. He literally busted a nut as soon as he is on fire…
It wasn’t quiet.
He groaned — hard, loud, guttural — as thick, hot release sprayed across his abs, mingling with the fire and sweat. The crowd screamed. Some laughed. Some screamed. But she didn’t flinch. She couldn’t stop laughing at him.
As the flames kissed his skin and he exploded — body tensing, abs streaked in his own release — the sound that followed wasn’t sympathy. It wasn’t shock.
It was laughter.
Her laughter.
Light, sharp, perfectly cruel. Like she’d seen this a hundred times before and it never stopped being funny.
She tilted her head back just slightly, one hand on her hip, pink nails gleaming in the sun.
“Oh my god… he actually came while on fire?”
She laughed again, louder this time — not hysterical, but mocking, almost delighted.
“You’re seriously the horniest little freak I’ve ever seen.”
The girls behind her started laughing too. One of them whispered, “He was moaning like a porn star.” Another added, “Is he gonna beg for a round two after that? Like, actually?”
She looked down at the fountain, where he was crouched, soaking wet, gasping, ruined — his erection now twitching in the cold water, steam rising around him like the aftermath of a failed sacrifice.
“You wanted attention?” she called out with a smirk.
“Congratulations. You’re a f***ing legend.”
And laughed one more time — just for him.
She watched him burn and bust at the same time — face flushed, eyes rolling, body trembling like he’d just been claimed by something divine and destructive. It was one of her best days ever.
He dove into the fountain behind him. Steam rose. He then came out unharmed with some redness on his lower abdomen.
She just stood there, flipping the lighter closed, unbothered.
Then she snapped a selfie with the lighter in hand, her tongue out, captioning it:
“
Burned a boy alive (he liked it)”“Dumb black boys always want to be ruined by blonde Barbie,” she said, turning to her phone, already posting it on her instagram story.
