Her silence says it all.

"I'm a married woman..." she finally says, dodging the question entirely. "Who's twice your age."

"Your age doesn't make you any less hot," you say, pulling her hips towards you. "In fact, it makes you even hotter."

You press yourself up against her, letting her feel the hard cock beneath your pants.

"I-I just came here to t-talk about Kevin," she stammers, trying to change the topic. "And to sort out this mess."

"Didn't we just sort it out?" you say, slipping a hand underneath her t-shirt. She trembles as you run your fingers against her skin, up and over the top of her bra, squeezing at her soft tits. "Besides, these aren't just the hands of a fighter. Let me show you what they can do."

You lean down again and kiss her, massaging her breasts as your tongue presses up against hers. She doesn't resist this time, her body going limp in your arms as you crush her up against the door. Soft moans escape from her lips as you kiss, and you take the opportunity to slip your fingers underneath her bra, feeling the warm flesh of her breast and the hardened tips of her nipples. After a few minutes of making out, you reach down and undo the top button of her jeans, sliding a hand down the front of her pants and underneath her panties.

Both of her hands reach down and grab you by the wrist to stop you, but it's already too late, with your fingers pressed up against her outrageously wet pussy.