Reeling you in, Mr. Carlson - don't fight it.
Mr. Carlson: For fuck's sake Chelsea get your fucking clothes BACK ON and get the fuck OUTTA here....NOW!
Chelsea: O.k, sure. But first I want you to PROVE to me that you have in fact DEFEATED me, Mike, by being MAN ENOUGH to actually take a good, long, loving look at this pussy, a pussy that you won't be able to get out of your mind now, when you go to sleep tonight, then tomorrow night, then the next night——..the pressure, Mike———it grows———and grows——..and grows, Mike, until your balls get so fucking blue, each and every fucking night, keeping you up, keeping your prick up, which keeps you awake, Mike, night after night, unable to get my image out your head———this sweet, open pussy, Mike, that you COULD have fucked, COULD have pounded, COULD have found out how addictively my cunt muscles, Mike, can seduce your cock, and fucking brainwash you into another one of my gift givers.
Mr. Carlson (with a halting, huskier voice): Huh? What the- ——gift givers?
Chelsea: Yes, Mike. Gift-givers. And if you give me enough nice trinkets and thongs and perfume and shit, then I can maybe "put out", and let you just bunny-hump me as much as you want, which'll get you even MORE addicted, Mike, the more I let you fuck me, which then gets me even MORE gifts from you, you see? Do you like how that works? Obviously that HUGE fucking bulge coming out the front of your pants agrees with me. Just let your brain and your heart follow your COCK, Mike. Let your cock take the lead, then I can grab onto it like a leash, o.k.? And I'll take things from there, and I'll lead and lead and fucking lead you around, Mike, like I lead around all my other boyfriends——Just ADMIT IT, Mike, I mean GAWD, it's too late for you - I know it - you're never gonna forget my nice big, wet labia, Mike—. every night, thinking about them, they way they're a little bit——open—.Mike. For your cock. And gettin you sooooooo stiff as you begin to ob-SESS over them——.YES!.....MIKE!.....YES! Now THAT'S what I want to see."
Mr. Carlson (can't unbuckle and unzip fast enough, looking at Chelsea like she was the final, ultimate fantasy he was always waiting for): You little skank.
Chelsea: Uh——.exCUSE me?