She instinctively put a hand on his chest. She shook her head. “Don’t,” she said turning away. She looked toward the elevators, god was she hot... but man was she nervous. “Don’t kiss me.” She pressed her ass back into his crotch. “Fuck me,” she said looking over her shoulder at him. “Use me.” She pouted and bit her lower lip. “Cum in me like I’m a dirty whore.” He reached down and lifted one of her legs, placing her foot on the chair rung. She leaned forward and put a hand on the table,. In fact, if she hadn’t shown up at my doorstep dressed like Elvira, the Mistress of the Dark, screaming “girl’s night out” I’d be watching part two of the Mark Twain/ Data’s head episode.Instead, I found myself staring at her raw sexual beauty, low cut dress, newly-dyed, black hair, and actually smiling every now and then. It was Tuesday evening and we were in one of those middle-grade steakhouse type restaurants. This one had a sort of nostalgic theme with black and white photos on the walls,. More

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