Shy, quiet, cute girls who are also disgusting little perverts.
You glance out the window of the limousine curiously to see if you can assess the driver's reasons for stopping. In the next instant, you press your hands and face against the window for a better look. Your heart is racing, and you are grateful for the one-way tint that your boyfriend's limousine affords.
"Babe, all of your fans have swarmed the car!" Your voice is breathless with the realization, but anyone can see that you aren't exaggerating.
Being at the center of such a crowd is enough to make your head spin, but you know you are safe and out of sight sitting in the expansive backseat of the limousine. There is no chance of anyone getting in, much less confirming that you and Jimin are the passengers hidden away inside.
Still, traffic has ground to a standstill, and you are nervous about arriving in time for your date.
"Come here." Jimins cool voice invites you away from the window, and you blush, the glass of the window suddenly feeling like a sheet of ice against your hot cheeks.
Your breath fogs the glass a last time as you draw back and do as he instructs. All throughout the drive you have been sitting beside each other, holding hands, but in your nervousness that's as far as you've allowed things to progress.
Now, as you turn to reclaim your seat beside your boyfriend, something in Jimins intense expression makes you freeze.
The heat you find in his deep, dark eyes compels you to watch, transfixed, as he pats his lap smiling gently. You know what this invitation means. Your breath catches, and you run a tongue across your suddenly dry lips, but you can't resist him.
You sit obediently, and gasp a little at what you find. Jimins cock is beneath you, his erection pushing against the too-tight cotton material of his expensive dress pants.
"You know I can't resist the view from behind," he intones as an explanation for the rigidity of his length.
You realize that by rising to look out the window, you've also given Jimin an occasion to rise.
You squirm a little, feeling self-conscious, but right when you are about to settle back into sitting still you feel his hands on your waist, right at the junction where the ass he so admires gives way to creamy, naked thigh.
You wore a tight miniskirt today, and to say you forgot to wear underwear would be an exaggeration for the sake of modesty. You were hoping that Jimin would notice the lapse in dress code, and there's no way he won't notice now with you perched in his lap.
You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as his hands guide your hips, pushing and pulling you back against his bulge.
You can't help it, he's hitting your right in the spot where you've touched yourself on the lonely nights, and to thoughts of him so many times before.
"Don't fret about anyone outside," he says. "And don't worry about being late for our dinner reservation.
"Do you think we won't find a way to pass the time?" He breathes the question hotly on the back of your neck, and you shiver and arch in helpless response.
"I know your filthy imagination," he continues, and you feel the nip of teeth against your skin.
"That's why I love you baby."
"I love you, Jimin," you gasp the words as if in worship.
A part of you trembles at what this man can do to you, but there is another part that overpowers your distress every time. It's the sexual deviant inside of you, the unwholesome woman that begs and pleads and rakes her fingers at the public mask you must assume as if she is running them deliciously down a lover's back.
