"Sure, sounds like fun!"

"Sure, sounds like fun!" You say, making up your mind.

Dan may be a bit of a dick, but he's not too bad on the eyes and you could use the money. You tell yourself it's just a one time thing.

"Get in!" He says with a grin.

He reaches across the passenger seat and unlocks the door. You hurry around to that side and then slide into the cool leather.

"Buckle up!" Dan says, obviously eager to get to the stripmall.

You do as he says and he screeches his tires. You glance out the window on your side and you think you see Maria peeking out of the window at you as you pull away.

Dan's attitude becomes even more overbearing as he navigates the winding roads of the Hollydale subdivision. He places a hand on your thigh and squeezes it through your pink pyjama bottoms. His hand slides up to your waist and his pinky begins to rub against the crotch of your pants.

"Oh yeah," he says, "I bet that's tight."

He looks over at you and winks. You're really getting sick of his winks.

"Show me those big fat tits of yours," he glances down at your breasts. "Come on."

You feel some of the fun escaping this deal, but you comply. You stretch the neck of your tanktop down so he can see your D-cups and your pink lace-fringed bra.

"Niiice," he says.

Dan squeezes your left breast hard, but not painfully hard. He steers the BMW with one hand and uses the other to massage your breast. His fingers slide into the top of the bra and find your nipple. He pinches and tugs on it.

"Awesome tits, Joy," he releases his hold and steers the car onto Willow Street.

You can see the stripmall up ahead. You're getting butterflies in your stomach. Despite his crude behavior and his rough handling you can feel yourself growing aroused.

Dan wheels the BMW into the lot, past the kinky adult store, the coffee bar, the record store, the liquor store, and some weird store you've never seen before. He pulls around the side of the stripmall. He stops the car not too far from the dumpster behind the liquor store.

"Alright," Dan reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

He unzips his pants and lifts up off the seat to slide them down around his ankles. His hard cock is sticking up through the flap of his flannel boxers, only, just barely.

He has a tiny dick. It might not make any record books, but it looks to be somewhere between two and three inches.

"What?" He asks.

You try to keep from laughing.

"A deal is a deal," he says, obviously growing irritated.

Do you go through with it? Tell him to go to hell? Demand more money?