I shoved Oliver away with all my strength, my anger reaching its peak.
"Oliver, what do you take me for?"
"You're nothing but a slutty prostitute." Boris' smile widened into a mocking grin. "Admit it, Peter. We have proof of your little escapades."
"What proof?"
Boris pulled out a few photographs and handed them to me.
In the photos, my face was flushed as I bent over the bed, my expression twisted with agonized desire. A man with a blurred face stood beside me, gripping my hips while thrusting into me. My arousal was unmistakable.
"This isn't me!" I tore the photos into pieces, enraged. "These are obviously AI-generated photos!"
'After all, I couldn't possibly get an erection!'
"Stop trying to weasel out of this." Boris turned to Oliver. "Oliver, why are you wasting time with such
