She looked down for a second and noticed something bulging between his legs.She thought, Oh fuck, I want him. Does he want me?He caught her staring at...his crotch and gave a slight chuckle.It was on.She “accidentally” dropped her pencil beneath the table. She went down to pick it up. When she turned around, still under the table, she saw his hand adjust the tent in his pants.“I saw that,” she teased.“Ha, did you want to see more?” He laughed.Her hand grabbed his chair, inches away from his. Too dangerous he said. I remember gawking at how ridiculous that sounded. But he was right. I wasn’t from around these parts. I didn’t know what I was dealing with. Yet. Coffee, I wondered as I added a spoonful into each mug, does he think that is that code for sex? I hope so.As the kettle boils and we’re making small talk, I look out the window into the darkness at my back garden. I’m thankful that out here in the remote countryside I’m surrounded with trees and not houses. I haven’t had time. You grip my forearms and flip me onto my back. Your eyes are so dark, your face so taut with desire. I realize what you're doing, and my pussy pulses and creams for you. You split my thighs roughly and kneel between them, your cock poised at my weeping slit. I undulate beneath your hands and moan your name. I beg you to take me. Now. Please. Your smile is ruthless as you grip my hips and thrust yourself into me. You've sheathed your entire length in one quick thrust and the sudden sensation is. Henry room is even bigger than ours; it'sdecorated in an art deco style and has lots of things to flaunt whovisit it. He's laid on his bed wearing a black robe; it looks like hejust got out of bath."So, Allan, how are you these days?" he asks me using my real name and Irealize that it's even more humiliating to me.Off course I'm not okay. I'm hating every single minute of my existencesince he did this to me, but I guess it's not the answer he wants andsince I decided to play his game for a.