The doorbell rings.
You sigh, “Can’t the world just leave me alone?”
The doorbell rings again.
“Damn it,” you mutter to yourself under your breath. You heave yourself out of your computer chair and start waddling to the front door.
The doorbell rings again.
“Coming!” you yell at the door. Your pace is slow.
You are a very obese man. Your sedentary lifestyle and your indulgent diet have contributed greatly to your obesity. You live alone by yourself, and you work remotely for a government-funded research institution that conducts top-secret experiments. The pay is extremely high, but no amount of money can buy friends, a social life, or happiness. You spend most of your time sitting in front of your computer, either deep in scientific research or watching porn in lonely fits of masturbation.
You do not mind it so much though. You are used to this life. Growing up, you have never fit in with your peers. At school, you had been academically gifted and super intelligent, but you had always been socially awkward. As a result, your peers have always labeled you a nerd, and you have always been bullied to no end. After years of this type of treatment, you have made peace with the fact that you will never fit in with people. You have decided it is probably best if you stop trying. Instead, you decided to spend your time focusing on your studies and earned a PhD in biology, which landed you this remote research position.
Now, at the age of 53, you have grown to consider human interaction more and more bothersome. You just want to live out the rest of your life in your house in isolation.
Finally, you reach the door and open it. Your face lights up when you see your next-door neighbor Trish standing there.
“Trish!” you exclaim.
“Hi!” she says with a smile.
“Wh… What are you doing here?” you stutter.
Shuffling to the door has taken so much breath out of you, and you gasp as you try to regulate your breathing. You suddenly feel embarrassed that you are wearing a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt with cheese stains on it.
If there is one person you do not mind interacting with, it is Trish, your beautiful 21-year-old neighbor. She is a fresh college graduate who moved into the house next door a couple of months ago. The moment she arrived, you had noticed her.
Trish has the body of a goddess. Her giant breasts are firm and defy gravity in their form. Her thin waist perfectly contrasts her round ass and thick thighs. Her hips have an enchanting swing when she walks, almost as if they are begging for a violent spanking. Her blonde hair is a thick, soft blend of butterscotch and honey. Her tan skin is a perfect mixture of creamy caramel and sparking gold. It gleams in the sunlight as if God himself has sprinkled a light layer of cinnamon over her radiant rind.
Trish also has the face of an angel. Her almond-shaped eyes are a mesmerizing hazel color. They are both piercing and soft at the same time. Her tender, heart-shaped lips gleam with a natural pink color and pout with a juicy succulence.
“Sorry to bother you,” she smiles, “I am baking some cupcakes, and I ran out of powdered sugar. I was wondering if you had any I could borrow.”
You let your eyes wander up and down Trish’s amazing body. She is wearing a pair of white knee-high stockings. Around her waist is a very short pleated skirt, with a plaid pattern of pink and baby blue. Tucked into the skirt is a tight button-up shirt that hugs her body, outlining her flawless figure. The shirt is white, but not entirely opaque, and you can see a white lace bra underneath, clasping her giant breasts together. Her bust is so large that several of the shirt’s top buttons cannot be buttoned, revealing her provocative cleavage. Around her neck is a small golden necklace with a cross, which rests between her voluptuous breasts.
Based on her appearance and the way she dressed, Trish is often mistaken for someone who is very sexually active, but despite many attempts from many men, Trish has maintained her virginity. She is a devout Christian, and at the ripe age of 21, she has never once given herself to a man, although she has driven a lot of them crazy. Her soft and flexible body is a curvaceous playground of fun, with tons of never-been-used parts designed to fill an excited boy’s heart with ecstasy.
Trish notices your eyes checking her body out, and she lets you consume the visual feast that she is for a brief moment. After all, what good is being this irresistibly sexy if she doesn’t tease a hopeless pervert every now and then.
“Ahem,” Trish clears her throat after about a minute.
“Oh, of course!” you answer eagerly, “Come in. I’m sure I have some in the kitchen.”
Trish walks in and follows you towards the kitchen.
“Sorry, it is so messy,” you gasp between heavy breaths as you shuffle your way across the living room.
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t judge,” Trish responds.
Of course, she is lying. She is definitely judging. Her eyes wander around your living space as she courteously walk slowly behind your dragging amble. There are empty Mountain Dew cans, greasy pizza boxes, and candy wrappers across the floor. The entire place has not been cleaned in months. It is filthy.
Trish noticed that you have a computer desk in the corner of the room, which is where you had been sitting before the doorbell sounded. The desk is cluttered with even more empty cans and wrappers, along with notepads that seem to have sloppy notes scribbled all over them. The computer itself is a colossal tower, hooked up to three giant monitors. The two side monitors are displaying what looks to be schematics, undoubtedly some kind of scientific research. The middle monitor is displaying a paused porn video.
Trish cringes from the sight of it. It looks like the girl in the video is getting fucked and choked at the same time. The girl does not look like she is enjoying it at all. She appears to be mid-scream, but not the kind of blissful orgamsic scream a girl would emit when she is being sexually pleased. It is a scream of horror and pain. Her hands are clawing at the arm that is choking her in a feeble attempt to pry the man’s grip from her throat. Is she screaming or gasping for air? Trish cannot tell. Probably both.
Even more unnerving is the fact that the girl in the video seems to have an uncanny resemblance to Trish. She has similar hair, a similar figure, a similar complexion, and similar facial features. Trish shudders.
She shifts her focus to the man in the still frame of the paused video. His mancing eyes seem to be fueled with resentment, and the expression on his face is a mix of violent pleasure and evil rage.
With a disturbed shiver, Trish turns away from the monitors and continues following you as you shuffle towards the kitchen. She feels a little grossed out. The fact that you, a fat man who is old enough to be her father and disgusting enough to be a troll, has been watching a seemingly violent porn video of a girl who looks strikingly similar to her makes her feel very uncomfortable.
“Here we are!” you exclaim as you enter the kitchen.
Trish spots a jar filled with white powder on the counter. She walks over and picks it up.
“Is this it?” she asks.
“I think so,” you answer, looking around, “We might want to make sure though. A lot of powdered ingredients look the same, and I have not cooked in a long time.”
“Maybe we can give it a taste test,” Trish says. She tries to open the jar, but the lid does not seem to twist off. She puts more effort into her twist, leaning over the counter to giving herself leverage. She can feel your eyes checking her out from behind. While it makes her uncomfortable, it also gives her a feeling of powerful control, which she enjoys having over men.
“Let’s give this slimeball a show,” she thinks to herself.
She leans deeper into the counter and wiggles her ass around as she tries to untwist the lid, letting the bottom hem of her pleated skirt rise up enough for you to almost see underneath. While she feels a growing feeling of disgust by your gawking gaze, she also feels an even stronger feeling of excitement. She is the unattainable object of your salacious desires, and she knows it.
“Do you want help with that?” you ask.
“Yeah, could you?” Trish whines in an overly innocent voice.
Before she even knows it, you are behind her. Your arms reach around her body and take the jar. She knows you are pushing against her ass with your crotch intentionally, but she decides not to mention it.
You let out a grunt as you twist off the lid, deliberately thrusting your crotch deeper into her ass as you do it. You place the jar on the counter in front of her.
“Sorry, it is a bit tight.”
“You like things tight, don’t you?” Trish giggles.
You blush sheepishly and begin to walk away. Trish grabs your arms and pulls you back, pressing her back into your belly and her ass into your crotch.
“What… What is going on?” you stammer.
Trish guides your arms around her waist. Then she dips her finger into the jar of powdered sugar and moves her finger slowly over her shoulder and towards your lips.
“Taste test,” she whispered, “Let me know if it is the right stuff.”
You shift a bit, unsure of what to do.
“Do I just… “
“Lick it off,” she answers, “Don’t be scared. It’s just my finger.”
Trish is surprised at herself. She is getting so much amusement from toying with you like this.
“Okay, I will just… “
You lean your head forward and slurp the sugar off of Trish’s finger.
“Sugar?” Trish asks with an innocent expression across her face. She blinks a few times to add an even more dramatic childlike effect.
“Definitely sugar,” you say, clearing your throat.
“Good,” Trish giggles. She wiggled her ass against your crotch, and your arms instinctively clench around her waist as a reaction. You inhale deeply and exhale loudly. Your crotch pushes forward, rubbing against her ass through her pleated skirt.
“Oh, Daddy,” Trish giggles, “Thank you for opening that jar for me. You have such strong hands.”
“D… Daddy?” you stammer.
“What’s the matter?” Trish laughs, “Do you mind if I call you Daddy?”
“No, not at all,” you answer quickly.
“You’re definitely old enough,” Trish mutters, “You sleazy, disgusting pig.”
You don’t know if you should be offended, but before you have time to think about it, Trish pivots her body at the hip, arching her back and launching her haunches deeper into your crotch. You let out an uncontrollable moan. Your cock grows inside of your pants, pressing and sinking further into the firm warmth of her backside. Your grip tightens around her body. Your clammy palms squeeze her soft skin through her thin shirt.
“You’ve never held a girl like this, have you, Daddy?” Trish asks, looking back at you and biting her lip, “Does holding me like this excite you?”
She begins to slowly move her hips around, grinding into your throbbing penis. The rotating motion pushes her skirt up, and through the thin layer of your sweatpants, you can feel the thread work of her lace panties rubbing into your cock.
“Aren’t you glad you worse sweatpants today?” Trish teases, sinking her body deeper into your crotch and smothering your erect member with the overwhelming embrace of her cushiony ass cheeks.
“Oh my God,” you grunt.
With her rotating ass still pressed deeply into you, Trish leans her head back, letting your face rest in in the small of her neck.
“Why are you doing this?” you ask, taking in a deep breath and inhaling Trish’s scent. She smells like strawberry ice cream, and you can only imagine how delicious she tastes.
“I just want to have a little fun,” Trish whispers, “Don’t you want to have some fun with me, Daddy?”
Trish guides one of your hands further up her body to her breast.
“Squeeze,” Trish commands, “Squeeze as hard as you can.”
You grope Trish’s breast and clench your hand. Her soft flesh yields to your clasp. You exhale heavily onto her neck.
“Harder,” Trish moans, “Squeeze harder.”
With all of the grip strength you can summon, you clench your hand around her breast even harder. Trish lets out a feeble whimper, and you feel a rush of power surge through your mind. Your tight grip begins to twist, and you feel her delicate breast contort in your hand with your wringing motion.
“Ouch,” Trish whines, “It hurts… “
“You drive me crazy, Trish,” you confess, taking another deep unhale of her neck, “You smell so good.”
“I saw the porno you were watching,” Trish whispers, “You left it up on your computer screen.”
“I… I was… “
“Shhhh,” Trish interrupts your embarrassed stutter, “That girl looks a lot like me, and I can’t help but wonder, were you thinking of me when you were watching it?”
“Well, I mean… you… “
Trish’s grinding becomes more vicious. The movement begins to pick up pace. Your twisting grip on her breast tightens.
“Do you fantasize about me, Daddy?”
Her hands guide your other hand to wrap around her hip, move under her skirt, and grasp onto her upper inner thigh.
“I do,” you admit with a sputtering groan, “You are the girl of my dreams.”
You hug her tighter, clenching hard onto her supple thigh and pulling her body into you with every ounce of energy you have.
“The man in the porno looked so mean and angry,” Trish whispered, “And the girl in the video looked so scared and helpless. I am wondering, when you think about me, do your fantasies ever go beyond just sex?”
“What do you mean?” you ask with another deep inhale of Trish’s strawberry-scented neck.
“You know what I mean, Daddy,” Trish teases, squirming her body in your tensed grip, “Do you ever fantasize about hurting me?”
You cannot believe this is happening. You cannot believe Trish is asking you this. You have no idea how to answer.
“I… I think… “
“Come on, Daddy,” Trish purrs, “You see me prancing around the neighborhood. You know you will never actually get to have my virgin body, and it drives you insane, doesn’t it?”
“You’re a virgin?” you ask in disbelief.
“Yes, Trish answers, “I am saving myself for my Prince Charming. That’s definitely not you.”
You moan uncontrollably as Trish grinds into your erection.
“You are a fat, disgusting scumbag,” Trish giggles, “Who will never, ever, ever get to tear into the perfect slice of untouched heaven between my tender thighs.”
The fact that the girl of your fantasies is a virgin makes her even more appealing to you, and for some reason, the blatant insults she is hurling at you make you even more horny. Both of your hands grip onto her soft skin as tightly as they can, kneading her flesh with your fingers.
“Doesn’t that make you want to hurt me, Daddy?” Trish taunts, “Don’t you want to hurt me for being the stupid cocktease that I am?”
“I do!” you roar as you feel another surge of power run through you, “You deserve it!”
“Oh no!” Trish shrieks with a sense of faux panic in her voice, “Do I?”
“You do, you little bitch!” you growl.
You push your cock deeper against her ass and begin furiously rubbing it harder into her inviting bum, “You deserve to be fucked, and forced down, and beaten!”
You wrap your lips onto the side of her neck and taste her quivering nape. It is a luscious mosaic of savory and sweet flavors. Your hands savagely claw at her thigh and breast, gripping her body tissue into fleshy torsion.
“Well, I am not going to let you fuck me, you sicko,” Trish says sternly, pulling her neck away from your mouth’s slobbery grip.
She turns around and looks at you in disgust. You are panting like a hungry dog and glaring like a diseased zombie. Your cock is standing straight up in your sweatpants. Your body helplessly shakes with rage.
“But,” she says, pushing her ass back into your crotch but with a much slower rotation, “I am going to give you a little thank you gift for the sugar.”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as her soft ass presses slowly and deeply into your pulsating cock again.
“Wh… What are… “
“I am going to give you one entire minute to spank me,” Trish whispers.
She grabs the hand you had clasped on her thigh and moves it around the outside of her hip to her ass. You fingers run across the lace of her panties, gripping tightly to the round shape of her ass cheek.
“To… Spank you?” you stutter.
“Yes,” Trish moans, “As hard and as many times as you can in one minute, Daddy. You wanted to hurt me, you filthy dog. Here’s your chance. 60 seconds. Go.”
You are astonished.
“Tick tock, Daddy,” Trish yawns, “The clocking is ticking.”
“Do I just… “
“You’ve only got 55 seconds left,” Trish taunts, wiggling her ass around.
You pull your hand back and smack Trish’s supple butt. A satisfying smack sound echoes through the air, and ripples oscillate through her ass cheek.
“That’s all you got?” Trish smirks, “50 seconds left. Better make good use of the time, Daddy.”
You raise your hand and give Trish’s ass a harder smack, followed by another one, and another one. Each smack is harder than the last.
“Yeeow!” Trish shrieks, a bit surprised by how sharp the pain is starting to feel.
“You like that, you sexy bitch?” you ask, smacking her ass cheek again. It was beginning to feel warmer now.
“It doesn’t matter if I like it, Daddy,” she answers, her lips quivering, “For this entire minute, I have no choice. Spank me as hard as you want. This stupid, helpless bitch can’t do anything about it.”
“You know how to make a man feel powerful, baby,” you grin.
You give her ass another hard smack. Trish lets out a high-pitched scream.
“That’s right! Scream, you beautiful bitch!” you roar, “I’ve still got 40 seconds to beat your perfect ass into a sweltering pulp!”
“It’s right here waiting,” Trish giggles, wiggling her ass and letting it bounce up and down, “Punish me, you sick pervert.”
Smack!
The strikes keep getting harder.
Smack!
“You’re going to regret letting me do this,” you hiss as a sensation of dominant rapture overcomes you.
Your fingers grip into the mesh of Trish’s lace panties. With a swift yank, you tear one side apart, exposing the bare ass cheek that you are spanking.
“Hey!” Trish shrieks.
Like a monster is a fugue state, you begin smacking the naked ass cheek as hard and as fast as you can. Without her panties as a barrier, Trish feels the stinging bite of every strike even more. She shifts uncomfortably.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Only 30 seconds left.
Your hand slides down to the upper thigh below her exposed ass cheek. You feel Trish’s hamstring tense underneath your hand as you touch it.
Smack!
You slap her thigh as hard as you can.
“Ouch!” Trish yelps in genuine pain, “Not there! That one really hurt!”
Your eyes light up with delight. Her reaction is completely authentic. It is not the taunting whimper from the smacks on her ass. It is not the teasing giggle that suggests she is secretly enjoying this. It is just raw pain.
You begin to thrash at her thigh harder. Her body squirms in a feeble attempt to free herself.
“Oh no, you don’t,” you sneer.
You use your other arm to force her body to bend over the counter and drive your forearm into her back to press her down into that position, holding her down. Your hand blasts her thigh again with more stinging lashes.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
25 seconds left.
“I said not there!” she squeals. You pay no attention to her pleas and continue targeting her thigh, flogging it harder with every strike with your open hand.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Those thigh shots hurt too much!” Trish frantically shrieks in a shrill tone, “I said… “
“There were no rules about where I could spank you, bitch!” you cut her off, “20 more seconds. Take the beating you deserve!”
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Ouch! Please! Stop it!”
Her legs begin to flail, but you hold her body in place. Your eyes widen even more with lustful glee and your heart fills with carnal wrath.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Please! I am begging you! I’ll give you anything you want!”
“Anything?” you ask, pausing your assault, “Are you going to let me fuck you?”
“What, no!” she responds immediately.
“Then shut the fuck up and take it, you snide bitch,” you grunt, resuming your rapid attack.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
15 seconds left.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Tears stream down her pretty face. The stinging sensation shoots through Trish’s body harder with every spank. She did not anticipate this much pain.
“Oh, you’re so sexy when you cry!” you exclaim.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
10 seconds left.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Her legs kick frantically, but you press her body down even harder with your forearm and continue your ruthless assault.
“I love feeling your virgin body wiggling under me, Trish!” you slaver.
Smack! Smack! Slack!
9 seconds left.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Trish’s upper thigh is bright red now. It feels like it is on fire. It is burning.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
8 seconds left.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Trish tries to use her other leg to cover the thigh you are whacking. She hopes that the sight of a fresh, unbeaten thigh might distract you and tempt you into beginning to beat that one, which would give the scorched thigh you have been beating a break.
“No!” you bellow.
You shove the fresh leg out of the way and place your leg in between her legs, so she cannot cover the target thigh again. While the sight of the fresh thigh is tempting, you know that if you start spanking that one, it will not hurt her as much as continued wallops on the red hot thigh you are already beating. You only have a small window of time to hurt this poor girl, and you are going to inflict as much pain on her as you possibly can.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“7 more seconds, you perfect bitch!” you hiss.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
As you realize your time is coming to an end, you fire the lashes out even more rapidly, beating the thigh in a blaze of relentless fury.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
6 seconds left.
“Oh, you are so sexy when you squirm, Trish!” you moan as you watch her thigh bounce with every slap.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
5 seconds left.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
It is as if the thigh has a life of its own. It jerks desperately with every flog. It twitches frantically. It writes in pain. It has no escape. It is helplessly exposed.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
4 seconds left.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Your cock is at its zenith now. It is standing straight up from your sweatpants. You can feel it pulsating furiously. You are at your apex, and you cannot hold it in any longer.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
3 seconds left.
Smack! You give the thigh one last strike before straddling her twitching thigh and dry humping it like a panting dog. Your cock sinks into the burning plushness of her beaten pelt.
“You are amazing,” you moan into her ear.
2 seconds left.
You feel her hamstring muscle flinching underneath your cock.
“Here it comes,” you grunt, before locking your lips back down on her delicious neck. Your tongue swirls across her pulse. She cringes as she feels the disgusting sensation of your coarse tongue careen over her sweet neck with a whirlwind of muggy saliva. A mix of emotions sweeps through her mind. She feels relief that the spanking has stopped, but she also feels disgusted from knowing what you are about to do.
1 second left.
You explode. Your body shakes with uncontrollable intensity as an entire arsenal of semen shoots out of your penis and floods your pants. It is an overwhelming rush. A moment of sheer bliss that you have never felt in your entire life. None of your past experiences of ejaculation even comes close to this euphoria.
You let out an unintelligible growl as your body goes limp. A thick coat of sticky fluid glues your crotch to Trish’s beaten thigh. Your body collapses on top of her, still feverishly shaking.
“That was the most fun I’ve never had,” you gulp.
“I bet,” Trish sighs.
She feels your penis still uncontrollably quivering and erupting continually with late squirts against her thigh.
“My cock doesn’t know what to do,” you laugh, “It’s never had this much fun. It can’t stop.”
Although Trish is still disgusted, she also feels a great sense of accomplishment. She drove you to the edge of insanity with her sexy body, and ultimately, that is what she desires. In her heart of hearts, in spite of her Christian values, Trish wants to drive men crazy. She wants you to drool when you see her. She wants you dream about her pretty virgin body, and she wants you to know you can never have it, and there is nothing you can do about it. She wants to build frustration, animosity, and anger in your heart.
“Let’s empty that tank,” Trish giggles, wiggling her thigh a bit underneath your throbbing cock. A few erratic bursts spatter out.
“Empty?” Trish asks.
“Yeah,” you answer.
She tries to move out from under you, but you grab her and hold her in place.
“Wait, no,” you groan, “Just one more, you priceless bitch.”
You grip her leg tight, pushing it into the sticky mess that your dick is swimming in. Trish feels a final discharge. It pelts into her thigh like a missle, exploding on contact.
“There we go,” you grunt heavily.
“Alright,” Trish giggles, “Time to get off of me.”
You climb back to your feet and exhale heavily. Trish pushes herself off the counter and looks at you. A giant blotch of sticky wetness surrounds the crotch of your sweatpants.
She grabs a paper towel. A significant amount of semen has permeated through your pants and onto her thigh. She wipes it clean, but it still feels scorching hot.
“Do you have an ice pack?” Trish asks, “You really beat the hell out of my thigh.”
“Yeah, of course,” you nod, still trying to get your brain back into a stable and sane place.
Even though you have just busted the biggest nut of your life, you still feel the urge to grab this sexy virgin and beat the ungodly fuck out of her again. It is taking every bit of self-control not to do it.
You open the freezer and hand Trish an ice pack. She immediately applies it to her thigh and exhales a moan of pleasure. Your cock immediately rises again from hearing her sexy moan.
“Are you still hard?” Trish asks in a shocked voice, as she notices your cock standing behind the wet blotch on your sweatpants.
“I just,” you stammer, “You moaned and… I mean… Damn. That was fun.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Trish mutters, “You’re certainly never going to get to do that again.”
“Unless you have to borrow more sugar,” you joke.
“Trust me,” Trish laughs uncomfortably, hobbing to the counter to grab the jar of sugar, “I will just buy more sugar next time.”
“Awww,” you bawl jokingly, “But you have a whole fresh thigh, waiting to be beaten like the other one!”
Trish turns to you and glares.
“Only next time, I am going to charge you for five minutes,” you continue to joke without acknowledging the sternness of her glare.
“Don’t you even think about touching my delicate, virgin body ever again,” Trish demanded.
“This was the best 60 seconds of my life,” you grin, “I might never get the opportunity to do this ever again, but you better believe I am going to be thinking about this forever.”
“Psychos like you need to be chemically castrated,” Trish shudders.
You smile. She is not wrong. You are a psycho. Even right now, you are thinking about grabbing her again. A sinister smile spreads across your face as you imagine what you would do. Maybe this time, you would beat more than just her ass and thighs. Maybe you would beat that pretty little face into oblivion. You might even grab a knife from the kitchen drawer and carve her up. You might even killer the bitch. You smirk as you watch her press the ice pack into her wounded thigh. She would deserve it. What a cocktease. She knows exactly what she is doing, and her behavior today proves it.
The only thing really stopping you from grabbing her, raping her, beating her, and killing her right now is how impractical it would be. It would be too difficult of a mess to cover up. Once she goes missing, it would not be hard for the police to trace it back to you. It’s not worth it, you think to yourself.
Trish notices you grinning at her with a sadistic twinkle in your eye. She shivers with fright and starts walking to the door.
“Uhhh… “
“What is it?” Trish turns back to you with a frustrated look on her face.
“Your panties,” you point, “I tore the side of them, and now they’re dangling under your skirt. Maybe you should fix that before you walk outside, and everyone sees you. I just… “
Trish puts the sugar down, grabs the panites, and tears them off of her body.
“Here you go,” she says, tossing the torn lace to you, “Use them next time you think about me.”
You catch the panties with an astonished look on your face.
“Jack yourself off into them thinking about me, you sicko,” Trish laughs, picking the jar of sugar up again and opening the front door.
You tuck the panties into your pocket.
“Oh,” Trish says, turning around one last time, “I hope you enjoyed your 60 seconds.”
You nod.
“Because you’re never going to get to touch me with your filthy hands for another single second for the rest of your pathetic life,” she says.
You gulp.
“You mad about that, you twisted psychopath?”
You nod, not sure what your response should be.
“Good,” she responds snidely.
She turns around and slams the door behind her.