"He's right, Jim," Sharon said. "I can't go back to my old job, and I need my special cigarettes. There's nothing we can do. I have to do what he asks."
Jim stammered. "But -- but --"
"No, Jim," Sharon sighed, with a look of resignation on her face, as she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for trying to help, but there's no other way. It's the only thing I can do now."
What Sharon neglected to tell Jim was that she was already wet, and getting wetter every second as she imagined herself giving blow jobs to strangers. She never would have thought that way before. But ever since she'd put on the costume, she'd started to feel... different. Hornier. Sluttier.
And now that the salesman was telling her she'd be a whore, she wanted it. Craved it. She knew it was probably another magical effect of her outfit, but it didn't matter. It was turning her on like nothing ever had. She had to go out and fuck strange men, suck their cocks, take it up the ass. And she was going to start by sucking the salesman, who was looking better by the minute. She knelt down before him.
Thu Jul 25 20:39:24 2002