After I pulled her purse away, I heard the canister clatter to the floor. I instantly knew what she was attempting to retrieve. Over half the women that carry mace never get to use it, and about half that do end up spraying themselves, overcome with fear. She should be grateful, as kicking the can behind me prevented her from making the same mistake, enveloped by her fear. Speaking of which, this woman was beginning to sink in it – her words less confident with each one spoken. She stuttered about her husband, but it was as if she couldn’t even get the word out at first. Glancing at her hand now hiding her cleavage I noticed she didn’t even have a wedding ring on. For all I knew, she didn’t even have a husband. I needed to teach this bitch a lesson.
I swung her purse around behind me and let it drop to the floor, hearing it land on the mace canister. I lunged at her, first grabbing her arm and pulling her hand way from protecting her cleavage. “What are you hiding there bitch?” I asked her, grinning. I knew what she was hiding – some very ample breasts – ones I intended to sample very soon. She swung an arm at me, lashing out to strike me. I won’t deny it – she hit me. Her strength was on par with an average woman of her size and weight, which is to say the impact hurt initially, but was not any type of deterrent she had intended. I pushed her roughly against the elevator doors and used one hand to pluck another button from her blouse, which gaped open further, fully revealing her lacy bra.
“I see what you’re hiding now,” I hissed at her, pinning her shoulders against the doors. I looked down the gaping blouse in near awe. They were nicely rounded and full-bodied. “You should hide something as beautiful as those” My god, they had to be double Ds or better. I couldn’t wait to open that bra up, letting them spill out into my waiting hands.
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