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Her head bobs back and forth as she takes the baton deeper into her mouth with each movement and moans as she does, her eyes locked on mine. I try to hold on to my anger, to my fear, but she is sucking it all the way down her throat with her deviance, and her soft red lips and those sexy little moans, and I can’t think straight as I watch her, mesmerised by the fucked-up spectacle before me.
She pulls the baton from her mouth and licks her lips before she guides my hand. The baton traces a slick wet line down her neck, between her breasts, and down her flat stomach before she pushes it down into her underwear, and I can’t help myself as I slowly push it inside her. She gasps and moans all at once, and I am rock hard as my hand starts to move of its own volition.
My other hand clinches her neck, and I push her against the wall, pinning her against it as I fuck her with my baton. Watching her eyes widen then shut, watching her mouth grimace and pout, watching her be violated by me and loving every fucking twisted minute as her body urges me on. My hand speeds up as I push inside her, fucking her hard. I want to punish her, and yet the harder I push, the more she moans, the more she urges me on. Till she whimpers and her breaths grow into harsh pants and her body arches and shakes as I bury the baton deeper inside of her.
Her moans turn to feral screams as she comes violently, her body seizing and convulsing as she tries to find more, grind more, go deeper, harder. For a few beats I stand there in awe as she unravels before me. Amy is limp in my arms as I release her and pull the baton out. It glistens with her cum. She’s leaning breathless against the wall in her post orgasm euphoria, and I hate that she looks insanely sexy, and that I enjoyed her twisted little game.
“Oh, Joe.” She pulls away from the wall and tries to rush me, her hands out, needing to hold on to me.
Maybe it was her voice, or her sudden movement that broke the spell, but suddenly I remember why I am here and what needs to be done. “This changes nothing, Amy. Stay away!”
I don’t give her another chance to speak or protest, but I get out of there, slamming the door behind me. It’s too late when I realise my baton and my hand are still covered in her cum, slick and sticky as it begins to dry.
“Fuck.”
I make my way to my car and throw it on the seat. It will have to dry off. Her smell fills my car, and I pull down the windows, waiting for the cold to suck away the heat inside my body. I have never been so hard or so turned on, and no matter how fast I drive or how far I get, I can’t get the image out of my head.
This changes nothing.
