For the first time she looked at the list from a different perspective, not so much in where she was short in funds, but where she would be if she wer... to accept Jim’s offer.He was not a bad looking man, but that had nothing to with whether she took up with him or not. Her decision to accept his proposal was not going to be made by how he looks, her decision would be based on several factors, which she was going to do now.In some respects it was not about sex, but a matter of what she needed.. Part of me wanted to just rip her clothes off, but I decided to savor the moment. I held her in place for a while, grinding against her ass and rubbing her pussy through her jeans, reveling in her total helplessness. My cock was starting to hurt, though, trapped as it was in my pants, and eventually I got impatient.Still with one hand covering Heather's mouth, I began to unbutton her jeans. Suddenly she was thrashing, kicking, biting, stomping, screaming, desperately trying anything she could. I was going to have to let her lead me and tell me what she wanted and do my best to make her happy. It was a totally new deal for me.The good part was that by just pulling the zipper in the back of that little black dress down and pushing the little straps off her shoulders, the dress fell right to her feet. She was standing there with her back to me and she was wearing a strapless bra that just barely contained two exquisite breasts and in matching black, a pair of very small bikini panties.. Port Authority Terminal has got to be one of the most depressing shitholes on this ball of mud. Row upon row of dented, flaking gray-painted steel lockers, travelers and transients with backpacks and suitcases rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, pimps and hustlers, and miscellaneous whackos muttering to themselves about the end of the world, with only an occasional scared-looking cop walking by. Up and outta that place. Up the cement staircase to the street. It was only a short stroll to Times.