In a twist of fate she never saw coming, Theressa found herself in a situation she would have never expected – begging for sex. The man before her, the same one whose mere presence had irked her from the start, had disrupted an opportunity that had left her feeling miserable and deeply disappointed in herself.
In this moment, Theressa didn't resist as the man gave orders, commanding the stranger to release her. She offered no assistance to the stranger, a fellow victim, as two other men in black suits forcibly removed him from the scene. Instead, her response was limited to soft moans as they carried her into a waiting car.
"Leave. I will drive myself" As she lay in the passenger's seat, she heard the familiar, dominant voice order. With a click, the car doors sealed her in, leaving her alone with her turbulent thoughts. Restlessly, she shifted and turned in her seat, attempting to regain some semblance of composure, her mind racing with a complex mix of emotions.
In the midst of the dimly lit car, Theressa struggled to keep her senses intact. She was aware of the man beside her, his voice seeping into her consciousness like a seductive whisper. "I knew you were stupid, but not this stupid to get drugged," he remarked, the words hanging in the air. Normally, those words might have cut deep, striking at her pride, but his tone was luring her in. In her clouded state, she found herself strangely drawn to him, her thoughts muddled by the potent concoction coursing through her veins. Her panties, was probably soaked.
"Please," Theressa managed to murmur, her voice barely audible above the purr of the engine. Her eyes fluttered open, pleading with him, though her thoughts remained disoriented.
But she was persistent, desperate. Her whole body pleading to be relieved. Her identity? Theressa had totally forgotten her identity, her pride. She wanted this man to do things to her, he could handle her. She was so certain.
She would submit to him if he desired, she didn't care, her mind was too fuzzy to care about anything.
"Just shut it," he commanded, his voice firm, a stark contrast to the increasingly alluring tones he had used moments before. "Don't start something you can't finish."
Her vision blurred as he continued to focus on the road, leaving her helpless in her vulnerable state. She felt herself being carried, cradled by the very man who was supposed to be her CEO. But the absurdity of the situation didn't faze her at all. Her desires were overriding her judgment, clouding her reason. All she could think of was the overwhelming desire to have him inside her, a primal urge that pushed aside all rational thought.
"No one knocks on this room door," Marcelo's voice cut through the air, his tone commanding and authoritative. Theressa could hear responses from what seemed to be more than one person, creating an ominous atmosphere before she was gently deposited on the bed.
However, Theressa refused to release Marcelo. Her hands remained firmly wrapped around his neck, preventing him from moving away. He hovered above her, his face betraying a raw hunger that mirrored her own. It was evident that their needs were not one-sided; he wanted her just as much as she desired him, and the evidence was not only in the expression on his face but also in the unmistakable bulge in his crotch.
With a seductive smirk playing on her lips, Theressa's hand ventured downward, boldly pressing against his already hardened crotch. Her eyes met his with a knowing look, and she couldn't help but bite her lip, her desire simmering just below the surface.
"Go to sleep," Marcelo commanded, attempting to regain control of the situation. His hand moved to remove Theressa's fingers from his neck, but she was reluctant to let go. In a defiant act, she tightened her grip on his crotch, causing Marcelo to release a throaty moan, a testament to the passion and desire that raged between them.
"Get a hold of yourself Theressa" Marcelo commanded, squeezing her jaw tightly.
"But, mmh…It hurts down there…ah" Theressa cried.
"I can't touch a woman who's intoxicated" His words offered no comfort to Theressa, but at that moment, she didn't care about comfort. All she desired was him, an urgent need that consumed her.
Before Theressa could utter another word, he abruptly pushed himself up, leaving her with a heavy sigh. Without sparing her another glance, he walked out of the room, his exit final and resolute. Theressa could hear the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock, sealing her inside.
Left with no other option, Theressa had to rely on herself to quell the overwhelming desire that coursed through her. She hastily lifted her midi dress to her chest and lowered her soaked panties, her fingers trembling as they found their way to her core. She began to rub herself, desperately seeking release, but the pleasure remained insatiable, an unquenchable fire within her.
Hours stretched by as Theressa struggled with the relentless, unfulfilled need that held her captive. It felt like an eternity before she could finally close her eyes and surrender to the blissful darkness, the tantalizing ache temporarily subdued.
Theressa lay in the dimly lit room, shrouded in the soothing embrace of slumber. The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft rustle of curtains brushing against the window frame. A veil of drowsiness enveloped her, and her dreams danced in the shadows of her subconscious.
In that hushed moment, as the night held its breath, Theressa sensed a gentle touch tracing its path down her form. It was a sensation as delicate as the whisper of a breeze, a hand moving softly, tentatively, over the fabric that cloaked her.
She was going to regret this later. Her insides yelled at her in embarrassment but she was too weak to think. And so she lost consciousness leaving the problem for the breaking dawn of the next day.