I felt his presence even before I heard his footsteps behind me. That’s how he always appeared: Suddenly I heard him, even though my door was double locked, and my apartment was on the fifth floor.
I was prepared for his coming, wearing only a miniskirt and a blouse, less to keep warm than to please him: He loved to rip my clothes off. Not that he didn’t own me anyway, but to flaunt this fact every day anew gives him enormous pleasure.
Already I felt his hands wrapped around my breasts from behind. His palms produced small sparks of pleasure even through the fabric where they touched me. He ruthlessly squeezed my tits between his hands, like stress balls, completely ignoring me. Still, I felt myself getting quite warm between my legs.
He must have felt it too. Casually, he bent one knee forward. As soon as I noticed this, I shifted my weight back and pressed my hot crotch against him. I felt the fabric of his jeans. Like an animal in heat, without thinking, I began to rub myself against his leg in hasty back and forth motions. I was sure that at that moment his winning smile appeared on his lips, which meant something like: I knew it, little one, you just can’t resist!