Brenda
.
.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
Tommy just smiled, his hands creeping up my thighs until he reached the band of my pants.
“Remember we had a deal, you’re my slave,” he said, “yet, I’m the one on my knees, trying to please you.” His fingers fiddled with my thong.
My eyes widened, the sharp sound of fabric ripping as he tore it off my waist.
“Are you an animal?” The veins on my neck were taut as I tried not to scream at him.
Tommy brought my wet, torn thong to his nose and sniffed it. “f**k, you smell nice.”
“You’re f****d up,” I said, my voice quivering.
What was more f****d up was how it turned me on. The way he ripped it and brought it to his nose. It made my skin tighten with this warmth.
Tommy began rubbing his head against my thighs, his breath hot against my
