Pleasure me. Where are your manners? Please Quenen, pleasure me, fuck me. “Not here.” He gestures for me to get out of the pool. I obey and he follows behind me. His presence a looming shadow. Water drips off me and the cold air rushes over my damp body. He picks up his jacket and places it over my shoulders. “Go to my bed and touch yourself, make me believe you want it. But leave this on.” He runs his fingers from my hip up to my breast along the bodice. I want to be the one to decide to take it off of you.
