I'm really not a sleazebag. I'm really not a bad person. But when an attractive woman is sitting across from you literally dripping with arousal, no one stays a saint for long.
“Grace, do you want to do something with me?”
“What?! Nnnnoooooo...” she moaned.
“Grace, you seem to really want to... don't you want to act on what you're feeling?”
“You're doing this to me, Ron,” she whined. “Stop it!”
“How can I be making you feel anything Grace? Unless you actually want me, that is.”
“Pleeeeease stop it, Ron. I'm begging you.”
“How can I stop it? But I can help you, maybe. Maybe you just need to... you know, get off?”
Grace was looking around like a trapped animal. She grabbed her phone, at this point practically panting with desire. “Henri, I need Henri to come pick me up.”
“Put the phone down, Grace,” I said calmly. I was lost – too far gone to turn back. I was fully aroused by the scene before me, and there was nothing that could stop me from pursuing it to whatever ends I wanted.
Grace put the phone down and looked at me. “Please...” she whispered. “Don't.” But it seemed like she knew where this was inevitably going.
“Come over to me, Grace, sit on my lap.”
She started crying, even as she did exactly as I told her. In her current state, she couldn't hold still, so her bottom rubbed all around my obviously erect cock. Grace closed her eyes in shame.
“Here's what's going to happen, Grace...
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