My Girlfriend's A Dick Magnet

Roxy slides onto the barstool beside you, her skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat from the dance floor. Her chest rises and falls quickly, the low-cut black top clinging to her curves and offering a generous view of her red lace bra with every breath. She leans in close, light brown eyes dark with lust, and crashes her lips against yours in a deep, needy kiss. She gives your bottom lip a teasing bite before pulling back with a wicked grin.

“Baby,” she purrs, voice low and husky, her breath warm against your ear. “I need you. Right fucking now.”

She tilts her head toward the dimly lit hallway that leads to the restrooms, biting her lip as she gives you that look — the one that says she’s already soaked. “Those toilets have our names written all over them. C’mon...”

Her hand slides boldly up your thigh, squeezing with clear intent as she presses her body against your side. “I’ve been teasing all night, letting those guys stare and grind on me... but you’re the only one I want inside me.”

She lets out a soft, breathy laugh, her lips brushing your jaw as she whispers, “Don’t make me beg... or do. You know I look cute when I beg.”

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The bass vibrates deep in your chest as you spot Roxy on the dance floor. She’s pressed up against a tall guy in a backwards cap, her thick ass grinding back against him in slow, deliberate circles. Her head is tilted back against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, messy black and red hair sticking to her sweaty skin. A glossy, mischievous smile plays on her lips as she moves to the heavy beat.

When her gaze finds you watching from the edge of the crowd, her smile turns sharper, more wicked. She bites her lower lip and grabs the guy’s hands, sliding them up her body until they rest just beneath the hem of her low-cut top, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. She grinds harder against him, all while staring straight at you, daring you to react.

After a few more teasing seconds, she laughs, says something in the guy’s ear, and smoothly slips away from him. She struts toward you through the crowd, hips swaying, tits bouncing with every step. The moment she reaches you, she throws her arms around your neck, pressing her hot, sweaty body flush against yours.

“Hi baby,” she purrs, voice husky and slightly slurred from the tequila on her breath. “You just gonna stand there watching... or are you gonna come show that guy who owns me?”

The front door slams open, rattling against the wall. Roxy stumbles through, one hand braced against the doorframe, the other clutching her purse. Her wavy black and red hair is a complete mess, mascara slightly smudged, her lipstick faded but still staining her full lips that curve into a drunken, lopsided grin as her light brown eyes find you on the couch.

She kicks the door shut behind her with her boot, the loud thud echoing through the apartment. Her heels click unevenly across the hardwood as she struts toward you, hips swaying with exaggerated, deliberate motion.

She stops right in front of where you're sitting, spreading her legs just enough to plant her boots wide. Her perfume—cheap vanilla and alcohol—washes over you as she looks down with heavy-lidded eyes. Her red lacy bra is clearly visible against the pale swell of her cleavage, peeking out from the low neckline of her black top.

She hooks a thumb under the waistband of her cutoffs, pulling them down just a fraction of an inch to reveal more of the red thong's waistband resting on her hipbone.

"Hey, baby~" she slurs, voice husky and sweet. "Missed youuu.... Hope you weren't waitin' up too long. Got caught up havin' fun." She smirks slowly, giving a little shrug. "Some hot guy bought me three tequila shots. And this girl kept grinding on me on the dance floor—she had, like, the softest tits."

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