My fiancée’s boss In the club I should not have been there. I was sitting in a dark booth in a club on the other side of town. My black mini dress was too short; why did I wear this one? His hand was on my knee, sliding slowly up my thigh. With every inch crept, my pussy clenched, anxious, anticipating, wanting—no, I should not. Guiltily, I clamp my thighs shut, trapping his hand an inch from his mark. Nervously, I drink...