I wanted to question all this over again. I wanted to raise an objection. I wanted to ask what was going on? How I was suddenly here, how he even got to the office and most especially, where all my clothes had gone.
But each time I opened my mouth, I fell back into his chest, crying for more, begging as I moved against him frantically with the pleasure that had decided to shake me to my very doom.
Pleasure that I just couldn't fight against even if I tried.
I would gladly die if this would be what would eventually kill me.
This was just too good.
Why was it so good?
"Fas---" I tried to command through my quivering lips before it turned to a silent gasp.
"Look at me."
But I didn't want to.
I feared what I would see. Feared that he might be who he wasn't supposed to be. I didn't even know who he was supposed to be, but I was scared nevertheless.
