James hold your bottom as you straddle him in his car. This is the first he’s ever taken a woman home with him, a vixen at that. He didn’t know what to do.

He’s already popped your buttons and blouse. At this point, he wants to Monica Lewinsky all over your dress.

He can already picture the mascara running down your cheeks, lipstick smeared everywhere.

He wanted to take all of you. Devour you brut he was a nervous man. He was scared to make the slightest move. Making you uncomfortable was not apart of his agenda.

“What…what-what do I do?” he looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration and hidden lust.