8 hours ago
"You're going to fuck her aren't you?" asked Pooja, her voice holding just the trace of a moan as she pumped her slim hips up and down Rakesh's cock. "That stuck-up designer... That's the point of hiring her, right?"
Rakesh laid back, scrolling through his phone as Pooja claimed her reward for helping out today. He had needed a very particular type of woman from his stable to make the perfect impression on Kusha, and she had fit the bill perfectly: smart, professional, and gorgeous. The fact that an objectively beautiful accountant had been willing to fuck him had definately planted some important seeds in Kusha's subconscious.
"Hmm?" he said, eyes flicking upward briefly to where Pooja bounced and whimpered above him. "Yeah, that's the plan. Why? Feeling a bit jealous? Or just nostalgic for the time when I first manipulated you into bed?"
"You fucking bastard..." panted Pooja, but her hips just bounced faster, her pussy gripping his cock with needy desire. "You get off on it, don't you? Aahhhh.. Dragging women down into the mud…"
"Don't pretend you don't love it," said Rakesh fondly. He tossed his phone aside and put his hands on the slim accountant's hips, smoothly taking control. "Do you remember what first got you to fuck me?"
Pooja’s eyes glittered down at him, antagonistic, but full of helpless lust as her hips squirmed and writhed down onto his cock.. "I don't even understand how you did it," she admitted breathlessly. "You just acted like an asshole. Always criticizing something about my clothes or my hair. I think I finally just snapped and had to prove you wrong."
"Your wardrobe has improved a lot since then," said Rakesh with a wicked smile.
"God, it's fucking humiliating," gasped Pooja, her hips bucking wildly now as the sorts of things Rakesh made her wear crossed her mind. "I swear half the men in my building stop what they're doing and just enjoy the show every time I walk by in those skirts you love so much."
"Maybe you should stop wearing panties," teased Rakesh as Pooja neared orgasm. "The wind blows wrong a little and all those men will get a real fucking show."
"Don't... God! Don't fucking jooooke about that, asshooolllle!" moaned Pooja, gasping and grunting as she came all over Rakesh's cock, imagining further exhibitionist humiliations.
Rakesh figured there was a fifty-fifty chance Pooja would actually quit wearing panties. Corrupting the sassy accountant had let a seriously kinky side of her off the chain, and she might not resist the urge. He’d won her over by putting her down… classic negging, that old pick-up artist move.
It wasn't as broadly useful as some people thought, but for a certain type of proud woman, it could be a great wedge to get your hooks in. Women who assumed they were above Rakesh just couldn't stand it when he acted like the opposite was true... and sometimes it could lead them to do desperate things to address that mental imbalance.
Maybe a similar approach could work with Kusha. And Rakesh thought he had just the topic that Kusha would be most insecure about. Not clothes like with Pooja. No.
He was going to insult Kusha's taste in men.
Rakesh laid back, scrolling through his phone as Pooja claimed her reward for helping out today. He had needed a very particular type of woman from his stable to make the perfect impression on Kusha, and she had fit the bill perfectly: smart, professional, and gorgeous. The fact that an objectively beautiful accountant had been willing to fuck him had definately planted some important seeds in Kusha's subconscious.
"Hmm?" he said, eyes flicking upward briefly to where Pooja bounced and whimpered above him. "Yeah, that's the plan. Why? Feeling a bit jealous? Or just nostalgic for the time when I first manipulated you into bed?"
"You fucking bastard..." panted Pooja, but her hips just bounced faster, her pussy gripping his cock with needy desire. "You get off on it, don't you? Aahhhh.. Dragging women down into the mud…"
"Don't pretend you don't love it," said Rakesh fondly. He tossed his phone aside and put his hands on the slim accountant's hips, smoothly taking control. "Do you remember what first got you to fuck me?"
Pooja’s eyes glittered down at him, antagonistic, but full of helpless lust as her hips squirmed and writhed down onto his cock.. "I don't even understand how you did it," she admitted breathlessly. "You just acted like an asshole. Always criticizing something about my clothes or my hair. I think I finally just snapped and had to prove you wrong."
"Your wardrobe has improved a lot since then," said Rakesh with a wicked smile.
"God, it's fucking humiliating," gasped Pooja, her hips bucking wildly now as the sorts of things Rakesh made her wear crossed her mind. "I swear half the men in my building stop what they're doing and just enjoy the show every time I walk by in those skirts you love so much."
"Maybe you should stop wearing panties," teased Rakesh as Pooja neared orgasm. "The wind blows wrong a little and all those men will get a real fucking show."
"Don't... God! Don't fucking jooooke about that, asshooolllle!" moaned Pooja, gasping and grunting as she came all over Rakesh's cock, imagining further exhibitionist humiliations.
Rakesh figured there was a fifty-fifty chance Pooja would actually quit wearing panties. Corrupting the sassy accountant had let a seriously kinky side of her off the chain, and she might not resist the urge. He’d won her over by putting her down… classic negging, that old pick-up artist move.
It wasn't as broadly useful as some people thought, but for a certain type of proud woman, it could be a great wedge to get your hooks in. Women who assumed they were above Rakesh just couldn't stand it when he acted like the opposite was true... and sometimes it could lead them to do desperate things to address that mental imbalance.
Maybe a similar approach could work with Kusha. And Rakesh thought he had just the topic that Kusha would be most insecure about. Not clothes like with Pooja. No.
He was going to insult Kusha's taste in men.
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