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And this, of course, had her chanting in her mind again.
Screw my pussy, I mean, screw me, screw me, oh my God, is this because I've never had sex, and that's why it's all I can think of even when my boss is trying to have a serious conversation with me?
If she kept thinking of such things, the next serious conversation they'd be having was between his cock and her pussy.
Michalis shifted in his chair and told himself to focus. "Can you think of anything that might've caused this change?"
"There was this old woman I saw on my way to work..."
Michalis took careful note of every nuance and inflection of her words as she told him of her encounter, but none of it indicated any attempt to deceive him. The only emotion he could glean from her was of worry, and Michalis was disconcerted to feel in himself the urge to comfort her.
"The Priestess card usually foretells the revelation of secrets," he said gruffly. "She has nothing to do with death, so you may set your mind at ease about that."
A smile of relief broke over her lips, and the pulsing between her legs started to match every twitch of his cock.
Michalis had to take another deep breath before he could speak again. "Do you have anything you'd like to ask? Anything you'd like to clarify?"
"I want to know everything about the change in me. How did I end up having it? How do I get rid of it?"
"I don't have any concrete answers to give you, unfortunately. This is my first time to come across anything like it. But if you're willing to submit samples of your blood—-"
She was already nodding even before he finished speaking. "I am."
Michalis had not been willing to admit this to himself, but this was what he had been hoping to hear. A refusal to have her blood tested could've meant she was hiding something, and that would've been a great pity, since Michalis drew the line against fucking the enemy, no matter how "magical" that enemy's pussy was.
But since Catalinadidsay yes to having her blood tested, and he didn't think he'd be able to stay sane without fucking her...
"May I ask you something, Catalina?"
"Of course, sir—-"
"Michalis."
Her expression was one of shock, but the way she was snapping her legs close under the table spoke of something else.
"Since I'd like to ask for your permission to fuck you, calling me by my name might be more...suitable, in the event that you'd say yes."
He allowed for another moment to pass, and only because he was the kind of man whose idea of pleasure was tormenting the woman he desired, and she was certainly tormented now, with the way she was adorably struggling to keep herself from getting wetter and wetter.
He would have wanted to prolong her torment more, but since her own pussy was also driving his cock mad with the way it was pulsing faster and faster—-
"What will it be, Catalina? Do I have permission to fuck you?"
