Your hand remained firm on my shoulder, holding me back against the floor, in my awkward kneeling position, your cock only a few inches from my face. ...You've always been a slut, haven't you? A whore for every Goddamn man that has a hard-on for a married slut." Your fingers released their hold of my shoulders and quickly entwined themselves in my hair. "Would you like to be my whore? To be fucked by my cock like a common slut? A tramp?" I nodded, not because I enjoyed this odd treatment coming. I was still standing right in front of him. I looked at his eyes while I sipped from the glass. “You like?” I asked him. Of course, I knew I had a nice body. My legs were long, slender and toned. My 34 C tits weren’t bad either.“Absolutely! You’re gorgeous!”I giggled, and then sat down and continued sipping my drink. Even before I was finished with it, my body was tingling all over. “So, Paul, tell me, what do I have to do to earn one more?”He seemed to actually be considering it. I could. More

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