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You work for my pleasure

 Denzel grasped her skirt at the waist and tugging it. With a pop of buttons and a rip of fabric, it tore free. She tried to protest, but he roughly grabbed her chin, turning her face to his. “No!” he said, then, more gently, “I’ll buy you another one.”

The ragged cloth of the beautiful skirt is cast to one side. And next, he reached for her panties, pulling and tearing, ripping them off her.

She still wore the bra and stockings, her breath rising and falling irregularly.

 “You can keep those on,” he said, then kissed her fiercely.

There seemed to be nothing tender or gentle in his kiss. His mouth was hard on her lips, forcing her mouth open.

He dropped to his knees, facing up close, pulling her pussy lips apart and wrapping his tongue around her clit, working it mercilessly.

She moaned, trying to struggle,

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