“I’m only eighteen,” she reminds me, looking a little bashful as if I’ll be upset at the reminder. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. Her innocence shines to me like a beacon in the dark. Her small frame and barely five-foot stature call to a primal part of me, all of it corruptible by someone evil enough to do so—namely me. “When you’re finished eating, I want to fuck your face and cum down your throat. I think if you’re old enough to swallow my seed you’re old enough for a glass of champagne, don’t you think?”
