? With a sultry look, I stare him in the eye and ask if he ever had a dirty whore.? He shakes his head, stunned with disbelief.? He can't help himself...but to stare at the huge ring in my nose.?I push him back into a dark corner.? Inside, I am beside myself.? I still can not believe what I am doing, but there isn't much of a choice.? I am forced to be this slut, this whore.? But what's this?? I can feel my pussy, completely wet with the idea of what I am going to do.? What is wrong with me??I. June was a great barista and she ran a fantastic café, but she needed to remind herself how to be more sincere.Marissa changed all that: there was no hint of nervousness as she pushed my hot glass across the counter the first time and that soft smile was more rousing than anything the coffee could do, more arousing than I thought possible from two seconds of parted lips. I had often stopped by on my way through but not every day — until Marissa arrived, and then I made sure I always got my. More

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