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She hopped off of her makeshift seat, made eye contact with me, and cocked her hip to the side. “I’m not going to--”
“Don’t even start with the innocent girl act.” I reached for my belt. “Take off your shorts.”
“What makes you think--”
“Ever since this little interview of yours started, you’ve been lookin’ at me like you want to eat me. Well, here’s your fuckin’ chance.”
“I’m not some whore. Your little finger-bang thing in the bar was--”
“Did I say you were a whore?”
“No, but--”
“I’m done talking about it. Either take off your shorts, or I will,” I demanded. “All these questions are pissing me off, and your eyes are drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”
She chuckled a light laugh. “My eyes?”
I nodded. “Yeah, your eyes. Now get fuckin’ naked.”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said with a tone of authority. “If these shorts come off, it’s going to be because I want them to, not because you do.”
Her willingness to stand up to me wasn’t something I was accustomed to, and I glared at her in disbelief. She returned my stare without an ounce of emotion. After standing in wait with a stiff cock for what seemed like forever, I broke the silence.
“Well…”
“My pussy, my rules,” she said.
I chuckled. “I’m listening.”
And, for the first time in as long as I could remember, I was willing to listen to what a woman had to say.
