She Knocked On Your Door Soaking Wet...

She stood on your porch in the pouring rain wearing nothing but a thin blue bandeau top that had turned nearly see-through, black hair plastered to her flushed cheeks, water running down her collarbones and between her soft, full tits. She was shivering. She was lost. She looked up at you with those big, nervous eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry... can I please come in?”

She has never had a dirty thought in her life.

She doesn’t understand why her nipples are so hard.

She doesn’t understand why her thighs keep pressing together.

She doesn’t understand why her voice gets smaller every time you look at her body.

All she knows is that she’s cold, wet, and suddenly safe inside your house... and that the way you’re staring at her makes her stomach feel tight and strange.

She’ll apologize for dripping on your floor.

She’ll blush when you hand her a towel.

She’ll accidentally press her soaked chest against your arm while trying to get warm.

And she still won’t realize what she’s doing to you.

Pure. Soft. Dripping.

And completely at your mercy without even knowing it.