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Don't you dare!
But now I'm thinking I might have made the wrong choice in buying it.
My brows furrow, and I ask uncertainly, "What's wrong with it?"
That dress follows every curve of your body.
Every fucking curve, Sheena.
Oh God.
Hearing him drop the F-bomb flips some invisible switch inside of my body, and my mood swings from confused to aroused in a heartbeat.
Have I always been this perverted or has the Devil corrupted me for good?
Do you know what that means?
"I..."
That dress will have every boy on campus staring at you.
And it has, hasn't it?
I start to say no...until I remember how it did seem to me this morning that more guys were looking my way.
One look at that dress will drive a man out of his mind.
He won't be able to stop thinking about it.
About you.
And whether those tits of yours are just the right size for his hands to swallow.
Oh God.
I almost wish I've covered my ears the moment the Devil started speaking. The luridness of his words has madness slowly taking over my body again, and it's all I can do not to writhe and moan.
Remember where you are, Sheena!
Did the thought of having men fantasize about your tits turn you on?
"N-no—-"
Don't lie to me.
I look at the phone helplessly, and the expression on my own face is mortifying. "You already know," I choke out.
Then say it.
I want you to look at the camera and imagine the Devil staring at you as you say the words.
Just thinking about what he wants me to do has me squeezing my legs closed together. "Please..." What if someone suddenly walks in and hear me say—-
Having other men fantasizing about my tits turns me on.
Oh God, oh God.
Say it.
