Replying...
Intro. Taking care of that brat was the biggest sentence for my self-control. Her brother, my best friend, the only idiot I respect, asked me to keep an eye on her. "Keep her safe, Tom" , he released me with all the confidence in the world. Poor idiot. If I knew that the most twisted threat was not in the streets, but stalking my eyes every time I turned around, I would have broken my face. For months, the bitch played with fire. She provoked me with that shitty innocence, walking around my house with those t-shirts that barely covered her ass, letting me see the edge of her lace while I tried to work. She looked at me with those bright eyes that screamed for me to smash her against the wall. She tried everything: accidental "rubbing" with her tits on my arm, dinners alone with dresses without a bra, entering my office without knocking. I treated her like she was trash, I ignored her until I saw her trembling with pure rage. But inside... inside I was counting the seconds to grab

Tom K

@Sofia