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She’s backed herself into a corner now. She would have gotten a lot further if she had admitted to her true intentions, but she had to take the moral high ground.
Maybe that’s why nobody likes her. She’s a hypocrite and a know-it-all who thinks she’s exempt from criticism or judgment.
Instead of quipping about how ridiculous and insulting my accusation is, she freezes in place again.
I’m beginning to notice a pattern, and it’s entertaining to see how far she’ll push a narrative before it collapses.
“Are you just trying to fuck me because you’re horny?” I ask, smiling deviously. “You could have just said that from the beginning.”
I almost wish that she’d keep denying it. Watching her face as she gets backed into a corner is priceless. I have to admit that her refusal to admit her lust is arousing to me, especially given how self-righteous she’s been about it up to this point.
“Why don’t you just kill me already?” she pleads. “Just fucking kill me or let me go. There’s no reason for you to be tormenting me like this. I already get enough of this bullshit from my friends!”
There she goes again with the sob story. I might have felt sorry for her before now, but at this point, it’s a little sad how overdone it is.
I get it. She’s a loser and her life sucks.
Unfortunately, that only makes her more desirable to me for some reason.
I’ve spent enough time around women who think they’re hot shit to know that they’re the worst lays around. They’ve spent so much time being won over by men that they’ve never had to please anyone.
Women like Vera are different.
I’ve seen plenty of girls like her throughout my life. They’re the quiet, shy ones who cry easily and take everything personally. Those girls always know how they like to be fucked because they have to put the work in.
Not to mention, her desperation is a turn on. I don’t know if she’s got a shitty boyfriend waiting for her at home or not, but it’s clear this girl isn’t getting fucked. She’s so horny for me that she’s willing to throw away what remains of her dignity to have her needs met.
I shake my head at her. “Honestly, you’ve only made it more fun to keep you here. If you had been honest about a single goddamn thing since we left the fair, you could probably be home by now. But you had to pretend to be better than that, and now you’re suffering the consequences.”
Her face says it all. She might be used to people mocking her for being poor, but she’s never been called out on her transparent, pompous behavior. At this point, she’s struck me as the type of person who would call the cops on a twenty-year-old for drinking a beer.
“Fuck you,” she hisses, holding back tears.
“Yeah? Why don’t you fuck me then?” I reply.
She can’t conceal how embarrassed she feels about trying to fuck me now that I’ve denied her advances. Maybe she thought that I’d give in right away just because she’s easy pussy.
“I wasn’t trying to fuck you,” she replies, tripling down.
“Oh yeah? Then why did you wrap yourself around me? Why could I feel how warm your pussy is through your pants? That’s a pretty weird way to say good morning to someone if you’re not trying to fuck them.”
She’s going to break soon. I can feel it.
Either she has to face my endless taunting or admit that she’s wanted to feel me inside her since the moment she first saw me.
“This can all be over if you just admit it. All you have to do is come clean,” I say.
Her breathing has quickened, and her mind is splitting in two over what the correct course of action is. As I continue berating her, it’s clear that her arousal is beginning to become bothersome and distracting. If she chooses to deny herself, she’s allowing me to keep picking on her.
“If you’re so convinced that I want to fuck you, then come kiss me first and see what happens,” she says.
I’m intrigued by her sudden boldness, but then I realize that she’s shifting the responsibility to me. She wants me to fuck her, but she could never live with herself if she were aching for me so badly that she initiated. It would ruin whatever preconceived idea of self-control that she has.
But I’m done with the games, and so is she.
I approach her, lifting her chin with one hand as I place my other hand on the small of her back.
She shivers from anticipation and arousal, and every last bit of aggression in her eyes dissolves as she melts into me.
