Nancy relished she was breathing very quickly. She should leave. He had threatened to hit her.
That wasn’t okay. Only -had he?
She could leave. If she didn’t want to be slapped, she *should* leave. And she *did not * want to be slapped, so…..
Expect that for some reason her ***** was wet. Like it wasn’t her doing it.
After all, she wasn’t the sort of girl who’d just take off her panties for a man she’d only just met.
She lifted her *** off the bar stool, slid her fingers under her short skirt, hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, to her ankles, then over her high heels and free.
She looked at them - pink , lacy panties.F**able panties. Although not , she supposed as fuckable as going without panties altogether…..
Had he hypnotised her? She wanted to think he had. Then this wasn’t something that she was doing.
It was something she was being made to do. Was it better if she was being forced? Her p*** throbbed at the thought.
It liked the idea of being forced. Only she knew it wasn’t hypnotism. It was all her. He had told her to give him her panties, and she wanted to obey.
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