Walking into the room, my heart races, seeing my man’s eyes bulge like a toon, phone in hand, his dick standing tall and proud. He’s nervous, but the bulge in his pants shows he’s into it. The plan is simple: I’m the star, he’s the audience. I picked “Mr. Stud” for his brawn and the promise of a wild ride.
Mr. Stud saunters in, and without wasting a breath, he tears my lingerie to shreds. My man’s eyes are glued to the screen, jerking off like he’s racing the clock. This new guy’s touch is divine, leaving trails of fire from neck to navel. His tongue? A work of art.
Mr. Stud’s climax is explosive, painting my chest with his seed. My man’s hand is a blur, pumping away to the live show. I give him a look that says, “You want a taste?” He’s practically drooling.
Grabbing a riding crop, I demand he crawl. The whimpers are music to my ears, his arousal palpable. I spank his ass until it’s redder than a baboon’s. His moans are a symphony of submission.
Finally, I let him savor Mr. Stud’s cum. He licks it off eagerly, like a dog with a bone. The night ends with us both satisfied, his place in our twisted play clear. I’m the queen of this bedroom, and he’s my devoted servant. The erotic dance of dominance and submission complete.
Loretta
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