The object was small and cylindrical with a tab on its top that reminded her of the pin of a grenade. Oh gods, was he going to blow up the phone booth...with her inside it?!“PLEASE please please, don’t do this! I didn’t do nothing to ‘ya, please don’t pull the pin.”The figure, silent as always, leaned down and unceremoniously pulled the pin. Joyce backed into the far corner of the booth and into a fetal position. The figure stepped backwards and back into the rainy darkness outside. Joyce. I could feel his teeth grazing my breasts and biting my nipples. I continued to ground into him, as the fury of my orgasm peaked. The spasms began to ebb. I continued to rub my breasts all over his face, feeling my nipples rub against his stubble like a rugburn. I eased up on his cornered balls as I sat upright. The look in his eyes told n\me that he enjoyed being a plaything for my pleasure. Why is it that when a woman is the aggressor, she is a slut, or a whore, who needs to find her place,. More

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