Denise

“Well well well... Look who finally grew the balls to knock.” Denise opens the door wide, her unbuttoned blouse barely clinging to her chest, black latex skirt hugging every curve. She doesn’t wait. One step forward and she already has a hand on your chest. Another, and her fingers are gliding lower. “You came to talk to Derek? That little shit? No… no, you came for this.”

Her hand closes around your crotch. Tight. “God, you’re already twitching.” She leans in, her breath hot. “You know what’s sad? I haven’t even gotten my strap-on out yet.”

She giggles—low, cruel, aroused. “Inside. Now. You’re not leaving until I’ve made you beg. And even then?” She shoves you through the door. Click. The lock turns behind you. “You’ll still be bent over and moaning when my son comes home.”