Dirty Me/Ignore him, the tea is too tempting

From Create Your Own Story

While Pepsi is your favorite, you decide you are too thirsty, and the green tea is what will really help your parched throat.

Your dress rises up as you bend over, riding up, above your ass, showing off everything below.

Just as you grab the bottle, you feel a hand firmly grab your ass cheek. Startled, you stand up quickly, confronting your groper.

He leers down at you, causing you to flush crimson. Not in lust, or joy, but pure anger.

Your free hand whips around, the palm sliding along the rough surface of his facial hair, almost like sandpaper. His head snaps to the side under the force of the blow. His head snaps back, his lust replaced by rage, and it seems even loathing.

"Fucking slut bitch," you heard from him, his mouth as foul as the hand that just groped you.

You see his free hand come up, balled into a fist, as he takes a swing at you. You jump back, causing him to miss, but so close you can feel the air shift behind it.

He glares at you. "Looks like you are just some little whore," he says, contempt dripping from his words. "Guess I should call the police, unless you want to find some way to make it up to me."

Make what up to who, you think to yourself.

"You're the one who grabbed my ass!" You reply to him in utter disgust.

He laughs. Not a pleasant, fun laugh, but an ugly, disgusting laugh.

"Yeah, we will let the police decide who is the whore here." He reaches for you before you can respond, putting his hand under your dress, pulling it up, exposing your airstrip shaved pussy. "I think you can definitely make it up to me."

The guy is definitely sick, and the thought of doing anything with him is enough to make bile creep up the back of your throat.

You quickly move away from him, down another aisle, as you see him pulling out his phone. Shit, he is right about one thing, no matter how little sense he made, What the fuck would I owe him for? He is the one who grabbed me. I did nothing to him, you also understand that the police here would not work out to your benefit, since you were indeed flashing people. One look at your dress, and lack of panties, might end up with you in lots of trouble.

You take the money out of your shoe quickly for the cashier to ring you up and throw it on the counter, not even noticing his looks, and his eyes roaming over your body.

You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. You run home, not to show off, but to get home and hide from this miserable experience. Fucking dirty, disgusting pervert.

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