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You remove your hands from covering his eyes, a smile beams across his face, as he sees you have taken him up to your room. His soft brown eyes turn to yours and he looks at you deeply, intensely. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, a light note, still fresh from the evening.
Things began earlier that afternoon.
You checked into the hotel for a work thing the following day. Modern interior, plush furniture and a decent bar. He was further along the counter, talking to another receptionist, giving his name and looking for a table at the restaurant. You noticed his muscular build, dark hair and the way he stood with authority.
Normally you aren’t the type to eat in the hotel restaurant, preferring the adventure of exploring whatever city you arrive in. Tonight you contemplate making an exception.
You head to your room, dump your bag down beside the bed, pick a few nice things out of it and lay them out. You move to the shower and start to freshen up, delicately forming a foam in your hands and dipping your nipples into it. They respond and tighten, rising up to meet the cool of the foam, against the warmth of the shower. Your thoughts turn back to him and you wash the foam from one hand, before slipping it between your thighs. Your eyes close automatically and your fingers begin to trace the outline of your clit. In your mind your hand is his. He is rubbing at you and desperate for you, begging, pleading for the chance to be inside of you. Just then you let your finger slide inside of you and then pull it out, flirting with yourself. You try this a few more times and feel the wetness inside of you.
Your other hand reaches up to your nipple and starts teasing, forefinger and thumb close and begin to tug it this way and that. Hard enough for you to feel a tingle inside, but not so hard as to be painful. The rest of your hand cups your breast and you sink your fingers into the flesh. Gently pulling at your tits, as if it were him.
Back to the hand between your legs, your pussy lips have swollen and now you are sliding your fingers up and down, deftly pulling your lips apart. You slip one finger inside and then back out to rub your clit, working it, as it begins to redden and flush.
In your mind, he is desperate, his hands grabbing at you, his cock plunging towards you as you deny him entrance, you are in control and loving it. He wants you so badly and it is within your grace to grant that pleasure, or deny it. You love to tease and make him wait.
On your clit, your mid-fingers are closed together, making small circles, pressing hard and moving fast. Your clit is swollen and the nerve endings are responding to your touch. You feel the hot water of the shower against your back, you hear the low moans coming from within you.
You lean forward, resting your head against the wall, lift one leg and place the sole of your foot against the shin of the other leg, exposing your pussy to the stream of water running over your shoulder and down your tummy. The heat hits your pussy and urges you onwards.
One hand still grabbing at your tits, with the other you slip two fingers inside of you and use the heel of your palm to rub at your fully engorged clit. The fingers inside of you curl and pull your palm harder against your clit. Rubbing faster, ferociously, you feel a tingle building inside of you, as your thigh begins to twitch.
In your mind, he is reaching the final stages, he is deep inside of you, happy to be alive, gleeful to be so close to you. You begin to swing your ass back in time with his thrusts making each one deeper.
The tingle inside of you spreads down your thighs and your legs feel numb, uncontrollable. Small waves at first, spreading to your pussy, then as you thrust with your fingers the waves build, becoming larger and more frequent. Rapidly increasing in speed and intensity, almost unable to stand, you push your fingers in again, curling them and pulling your palm hard down on your clit. Again and again, slapping harder at your clit until, “UuuuhhhhhhhhHHH” you cum and the warm sensation begins to spread to the rest of your body.
Your mind comes back and you regain your senses. The lighting is moody in the shower room, sleek and modern. The cubicle is huge, all glass. Soap dispensers are built into the tiled wall, and you once again lather up your hands, this time for more mundane purposes.
You dry off and pay attention to your hair. Looking in the mirror, you see that you have a certain healthy glow about your face. Would people in the bar notice? Surely not.
You slip into the clothes you had laid out previously. A white blouse, black skirt. Work wear, but classy and tailored to fit your slim figure. Make up and some accessories and you are out of the door, on your way back downstairs.
You head straight to the bar and order a gin and tonic from a gormless looking barman. It must be his first day, he doesn’t know which gins he has in, and can’t find slimline tonic. Whilst you are distracted, doing your best to guide pendik escort him to make you the perfect drink, Mr check-in turns up at the bar next to you. Finally you get your drink, and decide to stay at the bar whilst he places his order. Food and drink for two. You look around the room to see the empty seat where he was and a thin, prissy looking woman is sat waiting.
The bar-man struggles on, moving at snail’s pace and unable to identify his red wines from one another. Mr check-in looks at you and your eyes meet. He rolls his eyes and nods towards the bar-man, indicating disdain. You open quietly, so as not to be overheard, “It took him ten minutes to make my G&T, I can’t wait to see how long yours take.” Check-in laughs back.
He looks like just your type, strong but gentle, tall, with broad shoulders. Shame he is with somebody, you would have enjoyed breaking him in this evening. Teasing him, making him submit to you, please you whilst being denied himself.
“Hi I’m Ness” you say.
“Mike” he returns, holding his hand out. You place your hand in his and shake, noting the softness of his skin and firm gentleness of his grip.
After a little more small talk, he looks at his feet, nervous, drinks still not ready.
As he returns to his table, the reason for his nervousness becomes clear. His next twenty minutes are spent being berated by his girl. You can hear snippets from where you are stood. “Why did it take so long?,” “This wine isn’t right,” “You should have made sure,” “Who was that woman.” Her voice gets louder and more grating each time she opens her mouth.
She is walking all over him, calling him useless, pathetic, a loser. Perhaps she has the same game plan in mind, break him down publicly and then make him please her in the bedroom.
Newcomers arrive at the bar and you become distracted checking the size of their thighs, shape of their butts and cut of their clothes. You engage in conversation, one or two flirting attempts are made, but your heart isn’t in it.
Every now and again the conversation quietens and you can hear Mike’s girl still going at him. You glance his way and in the early part of the evening, he is stone-faced, gritting his teeth and trying to get through it. As the night wears on you can see that he is worn down.
Eventually the newcomers leave and you glance back at Mike’s table. He looks distraught, his eyes glistening, barely holding back tears. The authority in his posture completely gone. She is stood at the table, drink in hand, looking like she is about to leave. He is looking up at her, all puppy dog eyes and quiet as a church mouse.
Scornfully, she throws the contents of her drink at him, turns and walks off.
OK, so maybe not the same plan as you had.
He remains at the table, head down, clasped between his two hands. Quietly weeping. She has broken him. His vulnerability entices you.
A part of your mind wonders what the poor sap did wrong. Whilst another, more sexually predatory part suggests you go over and console him.
Mike looks up as you sit down next to him and place your hand in the middle of his back. You look into his eyes and offer him a consolatory smile. He can’t bring himself to smile back, but seems to appreciate the gesture.
“She hates me” he splutters.
“I don’t think she hates you Mike. I think she just has high standards.”
He looks at you incredulously – did you really just say that.
“You see Mike, sometimes a man just isn’t good enough. Sometimes he has to be taught how to treat a lady.”
His look changes from incredulity to confusion. Where are you heading with this? His brain is befuddled and emotional.
“Do you need to be taught how to treat a lady, Mike?”
He looks at you, not sure what to answer.
You continue, “Do you, Mike?”
The silence hangs for a moment and he is compelled to fill it. Eventually he relents, demurely, lips quivering “Yes.”
You seize your chance.
“That’s yes, Mistress, now be a good boy, pick yourself up and follow me.”
You head to the lift, he follows, unsure where this is going. You point to a spot on the floor beside you and usher him to walk to it. As he does, you press the lift button, close your hands over his eyes and whisper to him, “I have a little something in mind for you.”
When you remove your hands from covering his eyes, a smile beams across his face, as he sees you have taken him up to your room. His soft brown eyes turn to yours and he looks at you deeply, intensely. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, a light note, still fresh from the evening.
You ask him to open the mini-bar and pour you another gin, neat this time. He puts down two glasses and brusquely you tell him that there will only be a need for one. “Remember, you need to be taught how to treat a lady.”
He brings the glass of gin to where you are sat, in the only chair. You place both legs to one side, making room and again, tuzla escort you point to a spot on the floor beside your legs and usher him down to your level.
He looks at you hopefully and then kneels.
You take a sip of the gin and deliberately let some slide down the side of the glass. Forming a few drips on the bottom. You lift the glass towards his face, and upwards, so that as he looks up the drips fall on his skin. He gets the idea quickly and opens his mouth as the first drip falls in. His tongue comes out and he licks the remaining drips from the bottom of the glass.
Reassuringly you say “Good” and whilst his face is upwards you tip some of the gin into his open mouth. He swallows and coughs into his chest in the way of one not accustomed to drinking spirits.
You repeat the process several times, becoming a little more careless each time you tip the drink into his mouth, so that some of it is running down his neck and his shirt becomes uncomfortably wet.
You tell him to take it off, and his trousers, shoes and socks. He is a broken man, but hope springs eternal.
He is kneeling before you once more, now with just his cotton boxer shorts on. You lift your glass, he looks up and you use one finger to gently close his eyelids. You pour the gin down his face and drink it from his chin.
It goes everywhere and you spend a couple of minutes licking it gently from his neck as he looks upwards. He emits a couple of small moans as you do so, it sounds like he is enjoying this. You look down to his shorts and the evidence meets your eyes, he clearly IS enjoying this.
You reach down and feel the bulge in his shorts. With a little manipulation, his member is standing out straight, you take it in your hand and lazily yank it back and forth. He lowers his gaze to look into your eyes. You see desperation looking back as you tug at his cock.
“Not yet,” you say to him.
You push him back to sit on his heels, his member standing straight up. You raise your hips and lift up your skirt, looking him in the eyes all the while. Your engorged pussy lips are outlined through the sheer black underwear. You take your glass with one hand and use your other hand to pull your knickers aside. Carefully you pour a small amount of gin onto your pussy, the cold makes you shiver as the liquid runs down over your lips.
Quickly he leans forward and begins to lap at it. His tongue working quickly along your lips and deftly flicking at your clit. You pour more gin on the same spot and he laps it up, this time his tongue runs up and down your pussy lips, spreading them as he does so.
He pushes his head forward and his top lip exerts pressure on your clit, whilst his tongue is probing between your lips.
Working quickly, his tongue darts in and starts lapping at you. His head moving back and forth in tiny amounts, so that his upper lip never leaves your clit, but the pressure changes in waves.
He gains confidence and his tongue begins to probe deeper.
This is just as you had hoped. A strong muscular man, on his knees, broken before you, working to please you. In his place.
You lift a knee, bend your leg around the back of his head and pull him in. With a thrust, his tongue is fully inside of you, exploring. You grab his hair and begin to manipulate his head, pulling it back and forth, using his tongue like a dildo. You pull him in hard and tighten your leg around the back of his head, his tongue deep inside of you. He cannot breathe, but is so broken he does not struggle. Foolishly, he trusts you and continues probing with his tongue, relentlessly. His face begins to redden and you ease your grip on him, giving him breath once more.
His mouth is pleasing, but you need more. Something to really open you up and fill you. You release your leg and push his head away from you, breaking contact with your pussy and pushing him back onto his heels. He looks up quizzically wondering if he has done something wrong.
You stand and bend over to whisper in his ear, “On the bed.”
As he makes to stand up, you push down on his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
“You didn’t ask permission to stand up, what do you need to say?”
“Sorry mistress,” he utters.
“You will be” you retort.
You lead him forwards, using the handful of hair, crawling on his hands and knees.
As you reach the top end of the bed, you pull his head up and push him on to it. You position him so that he is sat upright with his back against the headboard. His manhood is hard and still sticking out of his shorts. You tell him to take them off, and as he does so, you stand beside the bed and remove your knickers, followed by the rest of your clothes. You examine your catch. Tanned, muscular and a massive boner. He is broken, confused, a toy for you to use.
You climb onto the bed and stand astride him. With a slight bend to your knees, your pussy is in his face and he begins licking ataşehir escort again. He clearly enjoys this and his cock begins to pulse as you look down over your shoulder at it.
His mouth feels good on your pussy, his hands are stroking your legs, but you need more.
You ease back and bend your knees, slowly lowering yourself down onto him. Your tits are level with his face and you lean forward to smother him. You can just feel his cock against your thigh. You put a hand down to straighten him up and carefully place the head between your pussy lips. Ever more slowly you ease it inside of you, lubricating it with your pussy juices. Deeper and deeper, stretching you open. Then you lift up and plunge down on him, starting your rhythm of hard deep thrusts, heading for only one thing, your pleasure, not his. He squeals a little and you pull your tits away from his face. He looks up and pouts, wanting to kiss you. “No” you firmly say, then use one finger to point to your neck. He begins kissing, working his way up towards your mouth as you ride him. As he crosses the boundary of your jawbone, you pull back and place a hand at his throat.
“Don’t even think it, bitch” you growl at him. You tighten your grip on his throat as he looks at you and then he relinquishes, stuffing his head back down between your tits and gently nibbling at your nipples.
You put both hands back on the headboard and use the leverage to help you thrust up and down on top of him. Your pussy rising and falling, bouncing off of his balls. Your tits swaying back and forth, gently slapping him in the face. You adjust your position to maximise your pleasure and look down at him, beginning to sweat and completely lost in the moment.
His body heat increases and his cock becomes rigid inside of you. You can feel it pulsing each time you thrust down on it. He is getting close, you recognise the signs. You quicken the pace, grinding your clit against his lower stomach, sliding up and down his manly member.
He starts to groan and you push on, thinking only of yourself. The head of his cock spreading you wide with each thrust, stretching your pussy, sliding in and out. The sound of your pussy slapping down onto his crotch, your tits against his face. You feel the tingle in your stomach as the heat builds inside of you. Eyes tightly closed you concentrate on building the feeling.
You hear sounds and come to realise they are words. Opening your eyes, you look down and realise he is saying something. All the while you are riding him, pleasing yourself.
“I’m going to cum” he says.
“Not until I say you can” you respond. You lift your bum slightly higher this time and he slips out of you. Immediately you sit down, his cock pushed down to his legs, sat in the crack of your butt. You think of a way to bring him back from the edge.
With forefinger and thumb you take hold of his nipple and start to pinch it, pulling it away from his chest and twisting slightly at the same time.
“Oww,” he protests.
You stuff your breasts into his face again, muffling his noises.
After a couple of minutes, his urge has passed. You still feel the need for satisfaction and decide to change position. This time you are on your knees and he is behind you with your ass facing him.
He moves forwards, ready to engage, keeping his hands behind him as you instruct, whilst you reach between your legs and grab a hold of his cock. You guide it to your pussy and slide it gently up and down against your sopping lips, thrusting back at just the right moment and he is inside again.
You feel for his balls and grasp his sac, pulling it towards you and setting the timing. You thrust against him.
Now it is you who is close to the edge.
You feel in control, your muscular slave boy thrusting at you whilst you push back with your hips to meet him. Each time he starts to moan, you squeeze his balls in your hand. Keeping the rhythm, but delaying his orgasm. You are training your pathetic slave, he WILL learn endurance and YOU will cum first.
You feel him push his weight against your ass, thrusting faster, this time its not for his pleasure, but for yours. As he quickens his pace, you feel his desperation to please and the tingle begins growing inside of you, satisfied that he has been put in his place.
The sound of skin on skin, gently slapping his muscular stomach against your ass as he goes balls deep inside of you. His member stretching your pussy, sliding inside, back and forth.
Your thighs grow warm and you feel the cool air on your back making hairs stand up. You feel the control slipping from you and animal instincts take over.
You thrust back at him, changing pace and taking control. Each push taking you closer to your end-goal. As your bodies slap together you can feel the depth of his penetration, filling you completely. There is no stopping you now, your legs begin to tremble, your face flushes and blood races around your body.
Your hand leaves his balls and concentrates efforts on your clit instead. So sensitive, that only the lightest touch sends you into convulsions. Waves of pleasure start to form inside of you and you hear yourself moaning. On and on you please yourself, your fingers working your clit, his cock inside of you, the slipping sliding sensation taking over your emotions.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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