“I did what you asked. I charmed your mother’s pants off in there. You’re mad,” she steps closer, tits brushing my chest, “because of this.” Without warning, her hand cups my half-hard dick. In a blink, I have her pressed into the couch, her wrist trapped in my hand. “Don’t,” I warn, my skin feeling spread too tight. “Do not fucking push me.” It takes everything—every single morsel of my self-control—to not bend her over this couch, wrench her panties aside, and shove my cock into the nearest and able hole.
