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“Give me everything you’ve got.”
Stepping back from me, he takes my leg and puts it on his shoulder.
He spreads me, making me visible, and I love it.
Not to mention, he looks like a fucking servant, bowing to the pleasure of his queen.
If the shoe fits…and it does, nicely.
His gaze stares down the length of my leg, and lands at my wet cunt. Watching him makes me wet and eager.
Taking a hand, he unhooks my stocking and begins to roll it off me.
Throwing it aside, he makes his way up my thighs and reaches my lace thong.
He fingers the etching, taunting me.
His eyes flicker with delight as he outlines my handiwork.
“Like what you see?”
He tucks a finger into the fabric and strokes it, delicately grazing over my cunt, taint, and ass.
“I want it,” he says, sharply. “I want it all.”
My hips buck against his torturous fingers, and he moves the thong to the side, gliding a finger into my slit.
I moan loudly, needing that pressure.
“I’m going to fuck you here.” He moves closer, lifting my leg up with him, and inserts two more fingers.
Moving them in and out in an agonizingly slow pace, I reach for the edge of the dresser, clutching on to it.
This is a glorious game.
Retrieving his fingers, he traces my taint and circles my ass.
“And I’m going to fuck you here.”
He inserts the tip of his finger there, and I feel needy, yet full. A sharp shiver rushes through me, igniting me, and I reel from anticipation.
“Yes…” I mumble out, trying hard to focus on him.
I need him to fuck me.
“Every fucking inch of you will be filled with me. Up for the challenge?” He asks, like he’s reading my damn mind.
“Always,” I whimper, wanting him to deliver that promise.
He rips my thong off and dives head first into me.
My hips writhe against him instinctively, and I wrap my legs around his head.
His force pushes me back against the wall, and a flower vase and lamp on the dresser crashes to the floor.
I don’t fucking care.
His tongue licks my clit, rubbing it in deliberate circles.
