Begging for my cock...well, now you're gonna get it! But first...we're gonna have some fun..."His hand stopped for a moment then surged forward into ...y crotch, rubbing, squeezing. I squirmed and moaned, bucking my hips, not wanting to like it, but loving every bit of being m*****ed. He stopped and laughed as I sat panting in the chair."I think you like this, don't you?"I nodded and then begged to be let go. Truly begged. Sincerely. Aroused but scared. I begged and begged and begged.He. What I sensed in her placid expression was angst; something I had rarely witnessed from her. As I led her into my apartment, a flourish of moments, mostly only scant seconds long, flooded my memory: those connections when we talked, those slight glances towards each other that lingered maybe a bit too long, the extra tight squeezes when we hugged. Most of all, those times when we walked along the sidewalks, chatting, the backs of our hands brushing one another, thinking nothing of it at the. More

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