I know you enjoyed my last visit.
Now you know who I’m not; be a good girl and show me how good it made you feel.
Slowly.
I gesture with my hand for her to proceed. She bites her lip and peels back the rest of her covers.
“Which one would you like me to use?” she asks.
Fuck, if submission were a color, she would wear it well. If it were a collar, it would be tightly around her neck with a chain in my hand!
Hmm, she does have a collar.
She holds up the first, a bullet. I shake my head.
The next, a skinny vibrator with a protruding nub.
I shake my head again.
She holds up a vibrating butt plug. This discovery in her drawer both surprised me and instantly made my dick throb.
I shake my headnoagain.For now.
Then she holds up the last, a thick silicone cock. My mouth waters at the thought of that stretching her apart. I nod, feeling my cock begin to tent in my pants.
“I need to be wet,” she confesses. The vixen is teasing me. I can smell her arousal across the room.
I motion for her to come to me. She stands and slowly struts over to me, standing in front of me. I place my gloved thumbs in her panties and pull them down.
Her wetness glistens on her thighs, but I’ll indulge her. Grabbing her hips, I spin her around and guide her to bend over for me.
Lifting my balaclava, I kick her legs apart wider.
Her scent assaults me. Her perfectly pink cunt – So wet. So inviting. So edible.
All. Fucking. Mine.
She’ll never go without again. Neither will I.
I groan at the sight. The things I want to do to this tight, pretty pussy.
I want to devour her.
Gritting my teeth, I fight my growing urge to impale her with my hard cock. From this angle, she’d have nowhere to go. Only up and down. Grinding. Screaming. Her ass and curves putting on a show for me rocking to my rhythm. I’d grab her by the hair and slide her down to the base of my shaft, feeling her tight heat throb around me. Feeling her quiver and coat every inch of my dick.
I’d fill her. Claim her. Ruin her.
Fuck, I need to have this woman!
I silence my cravings and tease her in kind with a nibble here and a light kiss there. She wants more and tries to arch her back but is unable to get the leverage required.
This is torture.
For me. For her.
Her whimper and begging weaken my defenses. They haunt my waking dreams.
She’s getting frustrated, her moans becoming more needy. So, I give my little pipsqueak what I must–a long, meaningful lashing of my tongue up the length of her slit. She sighs with relief, instant satisfaction as I tend to where she desires most. She’s the sweetest thing I ever tasted, with a delicate balance of flavors on my palate that I could never tire of.
