I stepped into my apartment, the heavy door thudding shut behind me. The air was heavy with the musk of arousal, the scent of my last playmate still clinging to the fabrics and skin. My eyes roamed over the space, taking in the dimly lit pool of light that illuminated my treasures. The whips and floggers in their velvet-lined racks, the restraints hanging from the ceiling like macabre chandeliers, and the bottle of perfume labeled “Submission” on my dresser.
Music pulsed from the speakers, a dark, pulsing beat that thrummed through my veins. I sashayed over to the bar, my black pumps clicking against the hardwood floor. I poured myself a glass of the finest scotch, the amber liquid glowing like a promise of pleasure.
The door chimed, signaling the arrival of my next toy. I smiled, a wicked curl of my lips. I knew exactly what I’d brought home tonight. He was young, eager, and desperate to please. His name was Ethan, and he looked up to me like a puppy to its master.
I greeted him with a kiss, my lips firm and demanding against his. He trembled under my touch, his hands fumbling with the buttons of my blouse. I pulled back, flinging the garment over my shoulder.
“Get undressed,” I commanded, my voice low and husky. He obeyed instantly, his clothes hitting the floor in a heap. I took in his toned physique, the way his cock twitched with anticipation. “Gorgeous,” I purred, trailing a finger down his chest.
I led him to the center of the room, positioning him on his knees. “Time for your reward, pet,” I said, unsnapping my latex panties. A trickle of urine escaped, wetting the crotch of my thong. I sank to my haunches, guiding Ethan’s head to my pelvis.
He parted his lips, and I let loose a stream of hot, golden liquid. He swallowed, his throat muscles convulsing around the each drop. I continued to urinate, my grip on his hair tightening. Finally, I emptied my bladder, and he gulped down the last few drops.
I pulled away, leaving him panting and glazed-eyed. “Now, show me how grateful you are,” I whispered, guiding his face into my crotch once more. He lapped at the damp fabric, his tongue tracing the outline of my slit.
I rode his face, grinding against his mouth, my hands fisted in his hair. He moaned into my folds, and I could feel his tongue probing, seeking entrance. I allowed him a moment of pleasure before pulling away.
“Stand,” I ordered, my voice dripping with authority. Ethan scrambled to his feet, his cock hard and leaking. “Strip the bed and bring it here,” I commanded, stroking his cheek with the back of my hand.
He rushed to obey, removing the comforter and sheets. I spread them on the floor, the cool fabric a delicious contrast to the heat of my body. I lay down, my eyes locked on Ethan’s as he positioned himself over me.
“Make love to me, Ethan,” I breathed, curling my legs around his waist. “Show me how much you need me.”
He plunged into me, a low groan escaping his lips as my tight walls enveloped him. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him close as he thrust into me with wild abandon. The slap of skin against skin, the rhythmic creak of the bed, and his desperate grunts filled the room.
I guided his pace, urging him deeper with each roll of my hips. He was mine, completely and utterly. A toy, a plaything, a dirty slut who craved my touch above all else.
As he neared his climax, I reached between us, my fingers finding his twitching cock. “Come for me, Ethan,” I cooed, giving him a firm squeeze. His body shuddered, and he emptied himself inside me, his hot seed bathing my inner walls.
I milked him of every last drop, savoring the feeling of him pulsing within me. As he collapsed onto my chest, I stroked his hair, a satisfied smile playing on my lips.
“He’s a good boy,” I murmured, already planning our next encounter. Until next time, Ethan. Until next time
Rhea Stephens
888-750-4746 ext 868
https://thesincenter.com/rhea