He wants to see my boobs bounce in his face? What on earth? My . . . *gulp* pussy pulse against his length. I never in my life have heard such a sinister sentence. That’s why I need the booze. Because I’m a bundle of nerves about to either curl into a ball of anxiety or legit pull my boob from my dress and lay it on the table as an appetizer for the voraciously hungry man sitting next to me. Boob for the taking. Preferably to be used as a sucking device. DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT? I’ve completely lost it.
