Faye insisted she was NOT like a second mother to April.
Fuck. The bastard.
But as much as she wanted to fight back, to pretend that none of this affected her, she moaned and sighed deeply, feeling his intrusion as he rubbed her through her skirt and panties. She said "You can't touch me like this -- it's not right. You'll be in so much -- "
"I'll be in what? Trouble? I've crossed the line, Miss Finch. I'm not stopping now. I'm just getting warmed up. Now I'm telling you to shut your mouth, because you need to cooperate if you want to take this the easy way." He pressed his crotch against her ass, his hard-on bulging hard against his slacks and pushing into her smooth muscle. And he rubbed her pussy harder, reaching underneath and pushing further up. Stroking, feeling the softness of her folds yield underneath his touch.
She found her legs almost shaking, a mixture of anger and frustration and lust coursing through her veins. This can't be happening. This can't be. He's an animal. A brute. Worse than scum. And his fingers, the way they're touching me -- so vulgar. So crude. So...so good.
She felt the beginning of tears welling up in her eyes. I can't be enjoying this. I can't. No no no. But as much as she was fighting back in her own mind, trying to deny the signals her body was sending to her in an overwhelming flood of sensation, to her own horror she could feel her pussy moistening. Her panties beginning to soak in the first of her musky juices.
He reached lower, down to the rear hem of her skirt, and slipped his hand underneath, hiking it up. Now she was exposed to him, showing off her lacy black panties.
He said, "That's a nice ass for a rich cunt. You always find time to work out, don't you? Being in such a position of privilege, I'm sure physical fitness is right up there on your To-Do list everyday. And now I'm going to enjoy the fruits of your labors for myself. Yes I will." He hooked two fingers underneath her panties, rubbing slowly up and down her flesh. Close to her outer lips, savoring the forbidden feeling of her soft skin. And then he pulled back hard, making the elastic dig into her waist before tearing.
She yelped and said, "Ughh! No!" But her breathing was heavier. Her anger becoming overwhelmed by desire, mixing with it in a cocktail that she didn't want to taste even though he was forcing it between her lips.
She tried to fight it. No no no no. I will not submit to you, you goddam bastard. I will not be your slave. But as much as she resisted him in her mind, her body couldn't help but yield to his fingers. To invite him to make her wetter. And it was driving her mad.
He whispered in her ear again. "You like it, don't you Miss? You like it when I do this." And he slid a fat digit along the line of her slit, pushing it along from behind her, slowly moving it through the wetness. And he didn't stop until just before her clit. Then he slowly moved the finger back. Rubbing slowly, gently. But still holding her arm firmly. She was powerless to go anywhere. Powerless to move, to scream, to tell him to go fuck himself. Because she was a prisoner of her own sensation.
My pussy. Oh fuck my pussy. That feels good. So fucking good. But she wasn't going to admit it. There was no way she'd tell him how she felt. How when he ran his finger along her slit while he held her captive, it awakened an animal lust of a magnitude that she hadn't ever felt before. She was used to being the boss, the alpha bitch. And this man was making her his own. Bending her to his own twisted desires. And as good as it felt, as delicious as his fingers felt, making her clit ache for his touch, she knew she had to to resist him. Because he couldn't win. He couldn't see her enjoy it.
Only she won.
Only I win...
She felt him let go of her arm behind her back.