She's made no secret of her dislike for me and my "lifestyle". The whole world knows about it. What the whole world doesn't know, however, is what goes on when the cameras stop rolling, and when we're alone together...
Being hated never felt so good...
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"But it is your problem, now." On that note, she pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it lazily to the floor.
My mouth was open a crack as I took in her perfect breasts spilling into her bra, the toned arms and stomach. Her body made me appreciate being alive! Made me forget every hateful, callous thing she had ever said or done to me.
"I have a date in less than an hour," I said, my voice slightly shaky.
"Fuck your date!" she said, sinking to her knees. "I'm not letting another woman enjoy your body tonight before I get to." She unfastened the remainder of my buttons and slipped my blouse off.
"You don't have the right to decide that," I said, unconvincingly. Fact was, she had the right to do anything she wanted to me. I wasn't going to stop her. I couldn't stop her. My body wouldn't allow it. The pulsating sensation taking over my pussy in its state of arousal wouldn't permit me to. I wanted it.
Her mouth was already on my stomach, pressing harsh kisses to my flesh, her hands stroking my breast through the fabric of my bra, before releasing it from the cup, and doing the same to the other.
"After I'm done with you, then she can have you . . . if there's anything left." She worked my jeans and panties down with a sort of hurried energy, as though she was on the clock. Then she shoved me backwards against the bed. She stood up again, looking down at my bare pussy, a glint in her eye.
"What I'm going to put your pussy through, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy," she said, climbing out of her jeans.
I bit my lower lip and raised myself up a little, resting on my elbows. I thought I was her worst enemy. I was much more aroused than I should have been upon hearing that. Fear should have been my first reaction. But fear wasn't an emotion she understood.
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