"What do you think I am?" she asked him. "I'm not that kind of woman. I'm going home."

"No, you're not," John said softly. "I know what kind of woman you are. You're a hot blooded piece of ass. That's all. You were made for a man to fuck."

"I won't be treated like dirt," she said.

John put his arms around her and kissed her. In a moment she was writhing against him, unable to control the surge of blood that went through her. She felt a wicked need between her legs, and she knew that John was telling the truth. Any man could fuck her. He didn't even have to ask. Any man could take her in his arms and reduce her to a silly, wanton piece of ass. She had no more strength to fight him off than a helpless child would have.

"See there," John said, grinning lewdly. "Now you be nice to the boss."

John stepped back and the tall, blond man took his place. For a few minutes she tried to resist, but Jerry was nearly as strong as John. He kissed her hard, and played with her ass, and reduced her to a wiggling shameless bitch.

"Oh, please don't do this to me," she begged him. "I'm really not that kind of woman."

"I know exactly what kind of woman you are," Jerry said. He took two strong handfuls of her asscheeks. He pulled her tightly against him so she would feel his hard dick. "John told me all about you."

She was already hot and there was no use fighting anymore. She was shivering from the heat in her body. She quit struggling and she fell against his chest. She made a sobbing sound in her throat as she allowed him to do what he wanted.

He lifted her evening dress up above the luscious roundness of her asscheeks. She felt his fingers slipping inside her panties, touching the bare flesh beneath. His fingers almost burned her. She moved closer to him. She could feel his hot prick throbbing.