Anything goes with Rose. From the moment she set foot in the upscale gentlemen’s club, the owner knew he was in for a wild ride. Her black latex bodysuit hugged every curve as she sashayed across the stage, eyes locked on the wealthiest patrons.
One man, a retired oil mogul, couldn’t resist approaching the enigmatic performer. “Take me to your bedroom,” he growled, handing her a crisp hundred-dollar bill. Rose merely smirked, looping her arm through his and leading him away.
Once inside the lavish suite, she wasted no time. Her hands roamed his thick frame, unfastening his tailored trousers and freeing his throbbing cock. She knelt before him, tongue darting out to lap at the pre-cum glistening on the head.
With a deep, throaty moan, she swallowed him whole, her skilled lips and tongue coaxing forth a torrent of semen. As he came, she continued to suckle, milking every drop.
As their bodies joined in sweaty, lustful abandon, Rose’s fingers found her own clit, stroking it in time the thrusts of his hips. The room filled with the sounds of their primal coupling: her keening moans, his grunts of pleasure, and the wet slapping of flesh.
In a frenzy of passion, Rose reached back to grasp his hair, pulling him into a searing kiss even as she climaxed, her walls clenching around him. Anything goes with Rose, and tonight, the world had borne witness to her utter domination.
