She wasn't sure what the hooded man wanted when he cornered her in the parking lot. She had made sure to stand directly in the security camera's view, but the second she turned her back to open her trunk and drop her belongings inside, he was behind her.
The boxes slipped from her grasp. His heavy frame pinned her against the car, his arms grabbing hers and swiftly pinning them down on the trunk. Behind her, she felt something hard press between her asscheeks. His shadow towered over her.
"Wh-what do you want?" she squeaked. "I don't have any cash!"
The man laughed but said nothing. Instead, he moved her arms so he could hold them both in his left hand, and with his right hand, pushed his way up her flimsy t-shirt. His fingers wrapped around her breasts.
She squirmed. His nails were cold against her perky nipples, and she did everything in her power to hold back her moans as he flicked and pinched.
"Don't t-touch me!"
His breath brushed her ear. "I can feel you trembling," he chuckled. "Feels good, doesn't it? Getting groped by a stranger?"
"No!" She tried to free herself, but he pressed her against the car.
"Sure. That's why you're grinding on my dick, right?"
She gasped, indignant, and her face warmed. "I-I was not! I was trying to push you off, not--"
"Cute." He pinched her hard. "Watching you deny your lewd body was always so interesting, you know?"
Suddenly, he lifted his weight. But before she could react, his arms wrapped around her, lifting her onto the trunk. She was bent at the hips now, chest pressed against the car as her legs dangled helplessly. One of his hands rested on her lower back, keeping her down.
Something wet slowly swiped up her neck. "I've been watching you shake your hips every time you walk down the street like some whore just begging to be fucked. Like a bitch in heat." He grabbed her ass. "But you just keep walking and going to work as if you were a good, honest girl. Even when you go home every night and run straight to your vibrator. Seeing your eyes roll back as you abuse your poor clit was always the highlight of my day. I liked it better when you used your dildo, though. I liked pretending it was my cock stretching you out like that."
Dread bubbled inside her. Knowing someone was watching her every move terrified her. Her skin crawled--how hadn't she noticed him before? What else did he know? How long had he been watching her?
But what terrified her more was her body. She could feel the familiar wetness between her legs, the dull, warm ache in her lower stomach growing as he dug his fingers into her, wandering closer and closer to her core. Her face flushed.
"Don't you go to the office with that toy of yours sometimes?" he continued. "You don't think they know? I see your coworkers sneak glances at you and jack off in their seats while you're hunched over your desk and shaking from your orgasms. Your boss puts your seat near his just to hear you gasp and hold your moans back when anyone asks you a question. You're just another whore that enjoys the attention."
"I'm not a whore."
"You don't even have panties on," he laughed. "You're wearing nothing but thin leggings. And you're still trying to fuck yourself on me."
Without knowing, she had been lifting her ass in the air, arching towards his touch as he berated her. She pulled away. "I didn't mean to. You're forcing me!"
"Sure, sweetheart. That's why you're wet, right? Because I'm forcing you to be?"
"Yes!" she shot back. "It's a biological reaction to these--"