"f***k, this feels great," I blurted out in a breath.
"Then why aren't you touching me?" She asked as she dragged one hand down my chest and abs.
I looked at her, but she was too busy staring down at her hand to see. She sat up more, pushing her sweet center against me. I almost broke then and put my hands on her soft body, but I didn't. Instead, I fisted them at my sides, waiting for her to snap.
"Don't tell me that you're not going to f***k me because I'm drunk or some dumb sh.it like that," she complained as she undid my jeans.
"Depends on how drunk you are," I replied. "There's a limit. Are you coherent enough to give me consent?"
"What do I have to do to prove that I am?" She said, bringing her lips back to my ear as she reached inside my jeans. "Do I have to beg you for it, Dadd
