You’ve been a bad girl. I told you not to fuck with it. I told you to leave it alone. And I come home and it’s a jagged mess on the floor, and you’re looking for a dustbin.
You’re dressed to go out with your school friends. White blouse, nice skirt, hair pulled back. Such an innocent face. You were hoping to get away before I got back. Too bad for you.
“Come here.”
“It was an accident!” Your soft Japanese accent is a reminder that you’re far from home. You get to stay here because I think you’re pretty, and we both know that there’s a kind of rent coming due, eventually. Looking over your body, I decide it’s now.
You hesitate.
“Here!”
You’re trembling. I’m older than you by at least fifteen years. You’re small and trim and pretty, with a firm little rounded ass, barely B-cup tits and long legs, for your 5’2″ height.
You think I don’t know about your fascination with older men. And American cock.
“What did I tell you?”