She rolled over onto her hands and knees, tucking them under her belly. Her back arched like a cat's as she took in a deep breath to calm the sizzle of raw nerves. Truly, she was at his mercy. He was a man of careful words, who wielded them as if he were in the midst of combat and his weapon of choice was a fencing foil. He had the precision to strike her softly or harshly with simple prose. Sometimes he chose to inflict the tiniest nick, but other times he cut deep to the bone. It made her forget how to breathe for a moment. She listened, waiting for his next command.
"Please what?" There was an audible smile on his lips.
Her imagination got carried away with the sound of his breathing. It was hypnotizing. A feminine giggle escaped from her throat with a sultry lilt. "I'm sorry. What?" She was not accustomed to begging for things. Most gave her what she wanted, if for no other reason than because she weaseled it out of them. She knew how to wear men down until they gave in. Why was this one such a challenge?
"Please what?" When he spoke with authority, it sent a raging fire of sensation down her spine that ended between her thighs; she panted softly. He could hear her, every sweet breath she took. His cock was beastly hard from it, but he could never allow her to know that she had such an effect. No, he knew she would unravel him if she ever managed to get the upper hand. The trick was to always be two steps ahead.
"Please... Fuck me." Her head was swimming. It was so hard to puzzle out the thoughts, to pick and choose words that were meant to arouse him. "Hard. I want to be fucked so hard, like a greedy cock-hungry whore. Please? I deserve it. I have been good!" She sounded like a petulant child, nasal and whiny.
He wanted to slap her across her face with his cock for it. My, did that thought make his erection twitch under the cloth of his boxers. "You want me to fuck you like a greedy whore? Is that it? Present yourself to me. Show me your cunt." There it was again; she sounded so delicious when her breath shook. He imagined her reaching between her legs, fingers lingering at the cusp of her pussy. He had to admit that she had excellent discipline. His was better. "Beg, whore. Beg for my cock. Tell me how much you want it buried inside of your nasty cunt."
His voice was so perfect. He had an accent that set her body on fire and nearly melted all of her resolve. The cadence and melody in how he spoke was maddening. With a single word, he could make her come buckets. Her mind raced, frantically trying to think of how to wrest control back from him. How could he have so much power over her with only his voice?
Finally, she decided to give him what he wanted. "Please, fuck me hard. I need it so bad. You don't understand. My pussy aches. It needs your cock. Please?" The words came tumbling out of her mouth in a flood, all of the things she resisted yet so desperately craved. "Oh, please can I have it? I need your cock." It felt like she was falling, such an intense rush. "Slide it inside and fuck me how you like, just please fuck me. Use my pussy for your pleasure." She could not see him but she knew he was smiling. Better, she knew that he had begun to caress the length of his thick, exquisite cock. She felt so victorious.
He ordered her to pleasure herself as he revealed his wicked intentions. "I am going to fill your greedy cunt with my cock and I want to hear you panting like a bitch in heat." He was going to fuck her so hard she would be able to hear his thrusts as his flesh met hers in brutal passion. "Now, come."
She did. Her fingers caressed her clit in feverish urgency, and her other hand pumped an ice blue dildo n and out of her slippery little cunt; to be a woman who squirts is both a blessing and a curse. She could feel the pressure building in her stomach, and finally it was releasing all over her bed sheets. All that she could think of was that she had accidentally referred to her friend as "master," a definite Freudian slip, and she wanted him to fuck her raw. She screamed his name to the top of her lungs, over and over, until she grew hoarse and choked on it.
"I want to taste myself on you. Please, allow me to suck your cock and taste myself." She was getting the hang of pleading. Her voice rose in a wanton, sultry fever-pitch the second time she said it, finding power in obedience. "Please, can I suck your cock and taste myself? I love the taste of my own pussy. I know, I'm so greedy." She admitted with a coy laugh. "But please? Can I? I would like to lick up one side of your huge cock, swirl my tongue along the little cockhole and lick down the other side. I want to taste you too. Can I, please?" There was purpose in her choice of words. Finally, she understood the true position of being submissive.
He breathed out slow and steady. It was hard for him to keep control by now; his balls were heavy and tight. His fingers caressed the throbbing shaft. Quietly he stroked himself, making certain to be slow so he did not miss even a whimper from his favorite fucktoy. His silence was so heavy between them.
She wanted to know what raced through his mind. Did he want her nearly as much as she wanted him?
At last, he described to her what she wanted to hear. "I am going to shove my fat cock deep into your throat, because you are my whore and I can."
She moaned sharply in response and begged him. "Can you please fuck my face? Please? I would like that very much. Fuck my pretty mouth, use it like a pussy and fuck it until you come down my throat." She paused, knowing her request would take him by surprise, especially since it was so eager and blistering hot. "Please come in my mouth. I want to taste you, all of you. Oh, god. I just know you taste good, like fucking heaven. Your huge cock is the best. Please fuck my face! Please!" She said every word with scorching desperation and reckless abandon.. For a woman who claimed to never beg, she certainly was making a sweltering debut.
He felt light headed. The tip of his marvelous and gorgeous cock glistened. It felt hot to the touch. How was he going to deny her now? She heard his breath catch as he grunted. She was silent, waiting and listening, precariously teetering on the knife's edge; her heartbeat was deafening in her ears. "I am going to slide my fingers into your hair and grab fistfuls of it while I slam my cock so far down your throat that you gag on it." It sent her into a frenzy, just as he knew it would.
"Can I come with you, please? I really want to. Please?" Her voice was sweet, syrupy and hopeful. She was biting it back, waiting for him to purr his command into her ear.
My god but this bitch loved his cock. He loved hearing her beg and how it fucked with her mind. "Yes." He said it slowly, dragging it out with the accent he knew drove her mad with lust. He felt his cock and tightly wound balls seize in his hand, spitting out rope after rope of white come. It fell against the rust colored hair along his stomach and he simply left it there after squeezing it all out. His head lulled back against the throne-like office chair, and listened to his new fucktoy come one last time.
She became unhinged, all but sang his name while she pushed back on the ice blue cock that was suctioned to the headboard of a king size bed. Her shapely ass cheeks smacked violently against the piece of furniture, which threatened her with a loud crack. Her body quaked and quivered as she felt the drip, drip, drip of her come soaking the backs of creamy thighs. Unable to do anything but be still with it still buried deep inside, she listened to him, waiting. Her cheeks went red with shame when she realized she was waiting for his next command.
