After Nolan left, Clarice tried to maintain her composure and ignore her wet pussy, which was clearly begging for a chance to devour a cock.
The problem was that after having seen Nolan's immense size, nothing else impressed her. And just thinking about doing it with another man made her lust dissipate.
She didn't want to admit it, but she would be forced to accept that man's proposal. She would have to be his obedient little whore and fuck only with him, while he had a harem of other women.
Clarice's pride told her that she shouldn't surrender so easily, not so quickly, but her pussy continued to pulse with an almost uncontrollable desire for that man. And what could she do at that point?
Clarice even tried taking a cold shower, but nothing could extinguish the fire burning inside her, especially after seeing Nolan with that random blonde whore.
How she wished he would break down her door, invade her apartment, and rape her until she became his little whore.
But she knew he wouldn't do that, as the man seemed to take sadistic pleasure in dominating her little by little. And, as he already knew she would eventually beg for him, Nolan decided to just wait.
"Fuck, why do I need to be so horny?" She asked herself, as she lay on the bed.
Clarice took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of such thoughts. She was a prideful woman, and even though she wasn't strong, she had managed to survive all this time.
She had even earned an important position in the government's safety department, one of the few non-combatant women ever to achieve such recognition.
As such, she should never be under a man, never…
However, as soon as she closed her eyes to try to sleep, memories of all the times she saw Nolan attacked her at once. The enormous size of his penis, the dominant way he kissed her before the terrorist attack, everything. She remembered the way his firm hands grabbed her heavy breasts.
The aggressiveness and force with which he dominated her during that kiss were still etched in the woman's mind. And Clarice tried to replicate that pleasure, grabbing her own breasts tightly while remembering that moment.
Then Clarice closed her eyes and saw an even more sensual scene unfold in her mind: Nolan, strong and dominant, with that blonde woman bent before him, submissive and surrendered.
She remembered every detail: the shine of the woman's skin under the dim light, the way Nolan kissed her with a mixture of desire and control, and, of course, his cock, what a cock! She couldn't stop thinking about that hard, imposing, almost intimidating cock.
The image of him entering and exiting her, relentlessly raping Ana's pussy, made Clarice tremble just thinking about it. Even the mere memory of that scene led her into a frenzy of desire, something her pride tried to fight, but which her body seemed to crave more and more.
"Fuck me," she whispered into the empty room, as if he could hear her. "Turn me into your slut. Ugh... fuck! I'm a slut, I'm a slut, I'm a slut!" Her moans echoed as her fingers worked frantically between her legs, trying to replicate the intensity she had seen on those emergency stairs.
Suddenly, she dropped to her knees, as if expecting him to be there in front of her, ready to thrust his cock into her mouth. But he wasn't. Reality hit her like a bucket of cold water, yet the desire didn't fade.
"Master… master, please…" The words slipped from her lips almost unconsciously, echoing what the blonde had said that night. It was humiliating, but also thrilling.
Her fingers moved rapidly inside her, while her other hand squeezed her breasts hard. She knew her breasts were more sensitive when she thought of him, and the mere idea of Nolan sucking them forcefully made her even wetter.
Squeezing them made her moan louder, and teasing her nipples could push her to the edge. But none of it was enough. Nothing compared to what she had witnessed.
She knew all too well that Nolan's magnificent cock had ruined any other experience for her. She had been with many men over the years, but none came close to satisfying her like that.
But he was different, she could feel it just by watching him. He could fuck harder, faster, and better than anyone. His hands were more skilled, his touch more versatile.
He commanded respect and obedience with a natural ease that left her intoxicated. And his cum… she wondered what it would taste like, imagining the blonde swallowing every drop with devotion.
Clarice pictured Nolan standing over her, his huge, hard cock ready to release on her face, her breasts, her body. She could almost feel the warmth of his cum dripping down her skin, electrifying her, driving her to an explosive orgasm.
At that point, her fingers were still providing some relief, but every time she thought of him, the desire only grew, leaving her more desperate for him. She knew soon masturbation wouldn't be enough.
She knew she'd continue to suffer like this. Nolan had plenty of women at his disposal, and he wouldn't turn his gaze to her unless she humiliated herself and begged. But her desire was too overwhelming to ignore. Her pride no longer mattered.
"Maybe I should," she sighed to herself, as her fingers kept moving and her other hand gripped her breasts harder. She decided she wouldn't deny it anymore.
If she had to sacrifice her pride to have that experience, to feel that strength, that intensity, then she would. She would beg for him, for that big, thick cock, and surrender completely, just as the blonde had.
And so, Clarice waited for a long time until she heard the sound of the elevator stopping on her floor. She quickly stepped out of her apartment, only to find Nolan standing before her.
Without a second thought, she threw herself at the man and pleaded:
"I give up, please, fuck me, make me your whore."
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