The Story Begins

I find Cynthia in the bathroom, the door open as it always is. She is standing by the mirror, wearing nothing but black, lace underwear as she puts on her makeup.

"Please, not now," she says. Cynthia is not telling me no, she would never do that, she delights in being used by me. "I have a date with John tonight. I don't have time to fuck you. John will be here in less than an hour to pick me up." She looks at me through the mirror. "I know that look. Please, I don't have time to fuck," she pleads, but I know that she knows that pleading like that will only excite you more. Make me more likely to disturb her.

Her eyes move from me to her own face as she continues to apply her makeup. Cynthia's lips are painted a deep red, matching the color of the blush on her cheeks. She carefully outlines her eyes with black liner, making them appear larger and more alluring. I can see the anticipation and excitement in her eyes as she finishes her makeup, knowing full well that I'm watching her.