Fem Dom Dresses & Waits to Fuck

Vanilla femdom dresses and waits to fuck a hunk

authors note: Lots of character back story. Hope the italics work. I wanted to try lots of internal dialogue with occasional conversation - please comment.

Standing in front of the mirror naked, the big beauty applies a final touch of vanity, after a long day.

Therapies of the self. Lancôme's Hypnôse was created by the one true female God. Showered. Post exfoliation moisturisers, cleanser and toner; creams and mixtures. Chemical powders. The alchemy of self preservation and sexual attraction, all applied with religious dedication.

With minimal make up, and little sprinkles of glitter powder that fall across womanly curves, its all in a effort to enhance the form visually, and not a centimetre has been spared.

The outfit of temptation lies across a vast bed. Cleaned sheets and fresh pillows, every surface scented and polished, the house and now the woman, is ready and waiting.

Within the lull, the tempest reaches in to her dangerously close. It's tentacles of mental poison then antidote, continuously expand and contract her private thoughts.

It shits me to consider it, but I have not been myself of late. I have been neglectful in my response to his numerous attempts to instigate intimacy. It has been a week, maybe more. I have not kept track. He is frustrated and I am sure, most eager. Excellent.

The bathroom floor is wiped clear, towels are dispensed with and fresh ones are hung out. Ones that match the other linens across the space. Lights dimmed. Music complements the mood and the natural consistency of decor throughout her home demonstrates not only an eye for detail, but the economic status of the owner.

The elegant beauty of her mature female form glides to the bedroom and begins to dress. Prepping up. Repaying what is owed, not quite.

It is my prerogative. There are valid reasons for the lack of everything not work related. I am stressed, emotional and the last thing I have wanted is some huge cock inside me telling me I am not loving enough. Not when I am not in the mood. However, he is fucking right regarding my work.

The stockings are carefully rolled and then unrolled, suctioned onto freshly waxed calves. Snap stopping at three quarters of a leg with a finger run around to ensure straight tops.

Work has been an over consuming fucking pain in the arse. Yes, all of my time in this role as blah blah Head of HR has me hooked in, and is that a bad thing?

I fucking thrive. Powerful. Respected. The fantastic renuneration and extras package. Huge bonus opportunities.

Matching lingerie is checked for flaws. Exquisite knickers slide up and snap into her delicate flower. She runs a finger under the rear string and it hugs perfectly into a ripe bum. Moisturiser rubbed in check over the plump curves.

Time outside that place is surreal. It is all I think about, and I am consumed by my affair with the industry monster. The emotional drain is unbearable. And I love it! Having to maintain composure, show care, remain calm, ooze cool. The Cunts.

The bra is hung in reverse, done up, then slid around her middle with straps that snap onto nice shoulders over arms. Cups are adjusted accordingly. Pulled and pushed for comfort.

I lost the Head of finance, and on top of my role, have been covering that role as best I can. With its little grey area of the business that requires special attention. Significant careful attention. That is until the company, i. e. me, locates someone who is, shall we say, more than forgiving when it comes to the balance of our books and issuing of invoices.

A garter belt and skirt are manipulated into compliance.

The dam payroll geeks had a major system crash, with rumours that it may have actually been a cyber breach, what ever the fuck that means, and I have two key employees that have pushed the definition of consultation work and soiled a key account with a triumvirate of sexual misconduct.

Clasps attach to stockings, and are checked to see if they line up correctly.

The two males insist this was consensual, she isn't pressing charges, yet. The fools have damaged a decade of solid client relationship with us. I have to let them go.

The skirt sits on her hips perfectly.

Further, I have a member of the senior leadership team embroiled in what only can be defined as pure corporate corruption. For christs sake, under my tough exterior that issue makes me sick with worry.

Seated on the bed, a large box containing boots is opened. Rice paper stuffing, silica gel packs and marketing paraphernalia is discarded. The first boot goes on like a finger in a bum.

Then there is the fucking internal piss ant problems. Little whinging bastards. Staff that will not conform to my process, is it really that hard? I have implemented a fucking form for everything. You do not have to reach out to me. I do not want to be cc'd into all and sundry email chain or gossiping topic. Fuck you and your complaint or gripe. Harden up and get on with your jobs.

The second boot slides on.

As for the sexual encounters between gay males in the marketing department and the apparent young executives of the sales team, how on earth the decision was made to shoot an after hours porn film on the roof of the building with full CCTV capturing every second is just fascinating to me.

She stands in front of the full length mirror and spikes up her blonde shards of hair. Elvish. Faeiry. She is dangerously beautiful. Courageous curvy and sexy.

I am to understand they shot a film and it has been called Able-semen, that crap has my inbox over-flowing with threats from building management and security. That the police should be involved. Christ.

Coming in closer to the well lit mirror, final assessments are made.

I must visit to my friend Ali in security and obtain a copy. The girls will have to come over for a gay porn and coke night next week. I'll make paella.

She turns over her finely manicured hands, assessing the exquisite job Apsara, her nail technician has done.

My little celestial nymph. I would suckle your clit daily for your service. Apsara you are truely devine.

She is waiting now. Formally. Taking a gulp of wine the vixen continues;

Fucking emails. The bane of my existence. The ability for every bimbo, harlot hating, man child and troll; or merry arse licking fairy excuse for a man, that seeks my approval by telling tall tales on the exploits of others; truely fucks with my state of mind. Either get yourself some thrush cream or grow a set of balls. Hand guns should be legalised. Please just Leave me out of it.

She twists left and right checking nothing and everything. Hardly paying attention her mind is on fire.

Seriously, I honestly bet they have vaginas, some of these guys. The girls, oh my stars, Inclusivity and racial slurs aside, I have better things to worry about than who feels mistreated, is feeling nauseous or wants a mental health day. I shall give you nausea, little Monique at reception, right in your tight little pipe.

The big exhale. She faces the mirror reasoning with herself.

The owners of the company constantly demand my reporting.

Locking her eye in the blemish free mirror seriously she tells the heart of hearts truth.

I earn fucking good money. Money I certainly won't get elsewhere. I love the challenges, stress, pace and speed at which this massive construction powerhouse runs. I have the reigns. I can taste it. I am a boss bitch, and i do not give a fuck about you.

"Yeah" Her arrogance shines out loud and proud.

Unless I require it. or it's pleasurable. Or I have to maintain it to keep it. Besides, it would be a pure slut of a task to start any of it again. I am comfortable. A Queen. Do not mess with the system.

Perfumed, benchs wiped, every trace of her presence in the bathroom is removed. She powers through to the kitchen area overlooking the great job the maid has done today.

Lilly is exceptional. This house is perfect. Not an item is misaligned. Not a single fibre of cotton lies on the vast expanse of white carpet. The entertaining area marble is so shiny I can see my underwear when i look down. I must give that woman a little extra next week. A diamond.

Without purpose she walks through each room, checking for any flaws.

"Hey Siri, set a reminder for next Friday. Extra cash to Lilly and organise some flowers for the nail salon ladies"

As Siri responds, she is already lost back into her tempest.

I am where I am because I am feared. Because I am firm. Fuck fair, and be dishonest for the leadership team when it's needed. I stand alongside them. The Irish owners are a terrifying, brutal, fun bunch of men. Keeping them out of jail and from slanderous media articles is an art that I am exceptional at.

Now alone in the kitchen both arms stretch out wide, poised on fingertips. Shoulders hunched forward. The business challenger aka MMA stance. Eyes locked at nothing in particular over the spacious food prep area.

The end of the financial year has been a thrush of a time. It is a miracle that I am across all these departments at this company. Because I am good. I pay attention to the details. Know everything.

Not happy with the cold wine stock in the fridge, she grabs more and makes space in the door shelf.

Especially finance. The Australian Tax Department is a cold, calculating killer. A viral infection that one must not be complacent around. The motherfuckers. Things cost. It's finding them cheaper and creative invoicing and payments that are the challenge. No paper trails. now that is an art.

New glass acquired, with the new used one cleaned, rinsed and put away immediately. OCD part of the furniture.

Then there is the heavy hitters from the union. Fuck. Comanchero Bikies require the right kind of manipulation. Flirtatious encouragement. Yes you Neanderthal, this was your idea. Make the site move at an ever faster pace and make sure no one, and i mean no one puts a tender against us.

She runs her talons down her waist and over her hips, adding a sultry lick of the lips.

If you be a good boy, Big bad bikie, you get a treat. I got us through that gate. Saved us literally hundreds of thousands. The boss would have eaten my shit if i had asked him to.

She laughs out loud alongside the devil who perches on her shoulder. The angel has been murdered and the cover up occurred several years ago. No one is asking questions.

Lovely, lovely wine.

Just a splash to check it. She leans onto the bench her hip holds her frame and even alone she is a dominant vixen.

I should have made the CFO eat it in the very least, and whilst he dines, stood on his neck in my Manolo Blahnik Nikanors.

Now there is a mother fucking hot covering for ones Metatarsals. They actually made me fucking wet when i saw them.

The chilled bottle fills her glass for the 2nd, or is it 3rd time. Who's counting.

Naturally, I am good. The dress and heels helped, or was it the glasses? Big bad bikies. I had that massive silverback gorilla wrapped around my pussy hairs at hello. There was a huge cock on that rhinoceros. It is a dam shame he just could not control the weapon at his disposal. All over, way too quickly, red rover.

She licks her lips, savouring the taste of Craggy Range Te Muna, a stunning Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. The beautiful Waterford Crystal long stem wine glass makes a distinct sound on the stone. Condensation circles that have appeared are wiped with a hasty finger.

The hips on these Elegance collection glasses could be a touch wider. I do love the nose on them, quite a handsome glass. I will have a touch more of the Craggy, it brings out the courage. It had want to at $400 a bottle.

Where the hell is he?

A top up again.

Anyway I can drink this like water at the moment. The numbers are staggering, and so is my pay grade. That's why i am there. They needed a ruthless slayer. A professional slut and distroyer of masculinity. Spit out their fuckin bones, on the gravel entrance to the job site, if they don't play our game.

A gulp from the glass, and dainty hands work to return the bottle to the fridge, making sure everything is in order. Subconsciously, of course. Cleanliness is next to godliness.

That private meeting scored me a quiet bonus on the side. That cock was as thick as the envelope of cash that came with it over a glass of Japanese scotch in the boss' office afterwards. That stuff is so overrated. Play the game girl. It's matured with glorious wooden blah blah blahs.

A swift glance at the Louis Vuitton bag on the Marble bench top.

Cash. Worth every fuckin minute. I haven't even counted it, and it's all hundred dollar notes. Still thick, even after I spent a vast sum of it today.

Come on, walk in the door baby. I am starting to feel chilly in this outfit. Not that I would ever show it. I do so hate the wait.

Wandering into the lounge, she looks into another room sized mirror that apparently provides the space an openness, feeling twice as large. Its edges reflecting the view over the harbour and across to the lights of the city. Fidgeting. Impatient. The seconds hand on her Georg Jensen Koppel Wall clock seems to freeze after each tick.

"Come on where are you? "

I do so love these boots. That walk into Pitt St mall and up King St into Castlereigh St, certainly Sydneys CBD best of the best, where the real shoe, bag and clothing retail outlets are. It was invigorating. Balenciaga Avenue Boots are a statement. A fucking siren. Hear me roar!

She laughs the wicked witches call.

That purchase was on equal par to the sex that I am about to have. Shit! The stool.

Stepping purposefully, she heads back to the kitchen and lifts the Litfad modern tawny calfskin rectangular stool into the centre of the space. Every surface is super clean. Organised and symmetrical.

She stands back and accesses the placement of the stool, then moves it slightly left, so it sits perfectly under the LED down lights.

Standing back she admires its square top and colour, which meet up perfectly with the decor of the kitchen. In both symmetry and shade.

Perfect. I am going to have him slam it into me over that stool. Wait, are those LED lights in white or yellow? My phone is right ... here. App. Right, Yes, they are yellow, and, brightness adjustment. There. Beautiful.

These occasional little OCD spasms are completely normal. Her brain, mouth and actions are likened to a collective of ferrets; whom have all injected crystal methamphetamine. She flitters about in limbo, waiting, thinking and drinking.

These boots are boss baby. I can't believe they match this Prada leather mini skirt. This skirt is just too perfectly short. So hot. Look at my bum cheeks, all bare, in colourful Honey Birdette spunk causing cloth.

Speaking of spunk, where the absolute fuck are you man?

Not paying attention to her surroundings but moving through it at pace.

Where is my god dam phone? At the fridge where I left it. Maybe I should top up this glass up again.

She downs the rest of the glass. Bottle out of the fridge. There is not much left in the bottle now. Bottle back in the fridge.

Wish i had some coke. Actually fuck it, I'll take this shirt off. It is way too tight and hurts my boobs. Why I opted for a centre tie white short sleeve with a collar that barely fits, is beyond me. It would however work better with side pig tails. Yeah! Do I have the time to find that blonde wig? Let's see. I can be quick about it.

The shirt is untied and placed onto the stool. Standing in a sunburnt orange bra and black mini skirt with boots, the look catches her by surprise. Assessments are made. Model stance after model stance, she turns and presents to herself.

Oh hello there bitch. Hot lady in the mirror, that is a dam fine looking woman, in a dam fine bra. What is your name? Oh look your lipstick could do with a touch up and those eyebrows are getting unruly ... wanna fuck?

Hurry the fuck up! I want cock! A man at my whim. To command. For Fucks sake.

Impatiently she shifts her weight back and forth in the boots. Not quite at a pace. Clearly frustrated. She can't call and rush him. No time was specified. She pouts and sips wine again.

You have been to all manor of salon, hairdresser, beautician and nail boutique today. Relax. Shoulders back, tits out, tummy in and lip pout.

A sign should be displayed. The nut case is in.

I do like this spiked fringe. However, not crew cut short enough on the edges. That poof Jeremey, who is a complete doll and pure disco cum bucket, should have listened and used clippers.

How can you get 1mm with scissors? Is "military cut around the sides" hard to fucking understand? I do like the length on top. Slightly longer does suit me.

Now, where was I? Yes, the Sav Blanc and maybe a little ... SHIT! That's the BMW. Quickly, quickly, where is that bloody shirt.

Like a frog in a pond full of dynamite, the launch into action is explosive and aggressive.

How does the place look? Perfect. Um except that light can go off, and this lamp on.

The stool spins. Arms go in all purposeful directions and the boot heels click on the tile. Clicks and flicks and wipes in seconds and her heart is all a flutter. She breathes in deeply and exhales.

Just like hairdresser Jeremey says it's all about the Mindfulness. Quickly tie this up, fucking stupid sleeve ... I can't reach.. there we go. God it is just too squeezy across my tits. The Weirdest ... fucking ... bottom of this thing ... quick ... Fuck. The keys. He is here.

Hercules is now also in the building.

She stands at the entrance to the kitchen. A bold warrior that makes men perspire, only when they are aware of her. Such dangerous proximity. She exudes confidence. A killzone oozes from every pore. Silent. Patient. The brown snake, ready to strike.

Mother fucker! You haven't noticed me.

He has come in and is putting his keys onto the atrium credenza. Facing the wall he has no idea she is there.

Oi! Look here! ...

She shuffles to attract attention.

There we go ... look at your face. Im not going to reveal a thing, yet. Just hold this pose and give you that look. In a moment. Don't you come near me. I want to feel your thoughts through those eyes.

The imposing male figure. He notices or rather feels her, and stops. Casually broadening his wide shoulders. A relaxed smile of beautiful white teeth, warm copper green eyes and surf life saving tan all mixed immaculately, to create a tall powerful pussy magnet. He is frankly, a hunk.

Don't you dare think this is friendly. Crop strike my boot in 5,4,3,2,1 ...

"Do you see this boot?"

"Yes mistress"

He plays along. The riding crop strikes her boot.

"Do you? Where have you been? I require you to go into the kitchen immediately and obtain my drink. Then you may aquire one for yourself. You are to come straight here and pay this Balenciaga very close attention with a part of anatomy I shall choose upon your return. Have I made myself clear?"

He smiles. She strikes the boot again. The crack of the crop onto the leather is sharp and loud. He is only slightly startled at her atmosphere. He nods.

God you look hot in a suit boy. Those eyes.

"Take your eyes off me. Mail boy! Put that bag down. Where is my drink?"

He acts. Sliding into character in seconds. He strides towards her. She ensures she stands well away.

Yes Sir, you are handsome as hell. That suit isn't one I have seen before, clearly you have been out shopping for yourself. I shall have to bring that up later.

With hands on hips and riding crop extended to the right, the she-demon is breath taking in heels. Militant. Special mother fucking forces type of militant.

Yes, mail boy. Squirm. Feel uncomfortable. That tie goes very fucking nicely with that shirt, and as for the 5 o'clock stubble with your wet look tasstled hair. Let me see, shiny belt buckle and polished riding boots in brown. I am going to make you want me. I can assure you of that.

Wanting to touch herself at him, she realises that he is distracted. Her missile guidance system tracks the target.

I love the movement of decent trousers on a man with a nice butt. There is that little hug of material around the crescent at the base, yum yum. Look at that. Oh he moves ever so manly ... with the right shape ... shoulders.. forearms.. fuck..

"Loose the jacket and tie."

"May I hang them up?"

"No. Absolutely not ... wait yes of course. And undo the top two buttons of that fucking shirt."

He complies. Smirking at her. The crop strikes the boot again.

Oh yes look at those hands. Nice watch. Not too over stated. Gosh I love watching your arms. I could drink that in all mother fuckin evening.

"Turn side on for me."

Phwoor those biceps, and forearms. That shirt is stunning on you. Is that whole outfit new?

"Who were you trying to impress today? what is her name and what floor does she work on? Is she in the building you work in?"

"Senior VP David"

"Shush your tongue, I'll answer my questions for you."

"David La La La doesn't wear boots like this now does he? Stop stalling. Stop your looking at me and bring my drink mail boy. I am going to show you what you could be having if you had said you were trying to impress me."

I like you feeling uncomfortable. Get into that kitchen. Please ignore that stool strategically placed where it is. I'll get to that. Now, while you pour that drink let me distract you.

Her boots click circumnavigating the stool. Pausing to delicately place her crop.

I need to show myself to you.

"Hey Siri, next playlist"

The routine display to music comes naturally to her and no two shows have ever been the same. The other place has a pole.

Firstly girl, stand up straight. Tummy in, with tits out. Then slow down, bring legs out to full extension and glance to meet your eye. Now lean forward, want me. Want my tits. Your eyes scanning. Let me preview the coloured edges of these knickers for you. Nothing else. Elbows in to make these tits explode forward. Well well. Look at your face. Success.

He casually glances over and raises an eyebrow. His erect trunk straining against linen pants.

"Do you like what you see sailor? I can only imagine the filthy sordid things going through your mind. Don't you speak. You can stand back and only dream of how this tastes."

Look at me! Im squeezing these bum cheeks and thighs; enjoy me ... here you go you sexy man, let me turn this away from you and ...

She bends forward. The skirt hem rises onto her hip and shows off a brightly coloured, wet and warm pussy.

Showing you makes me wet. The tightness makes me want your tongue against the taught cloth.

"Hey! Bus boy. My face is down here"

Do you want my ass? I see what you're thinking. Those tailored pants do little to hide that python I can see. Oh I need to taste that salt from you.

"Someone is getting excited. Pass me that drink and get into the lounge-room onto the couch. How dare you wave your tent post pants around this house in my presence."

Saying nothing, he moves slowly to the couch. The viper stalks its prey from a close distance.

Dam my man, I am going to get some of that. Move your body. I should think you would hurry ... that cock.. It does look uncomfortable.

She follows and weakly strikes his thigh with the crop. He sits, wondering why there is a stool is in the centre of the kitchen clearly out of place. She does however notice his lack of attention on her.

Oh you poor man, now that you're seated, let me air that bad boy for you.

She unzips him and he assists with removing the slacks to mid thigh. Clearly this beast just struggles through the zipper opening.

Oh my god Its girth. How on earth does that go in me ... oh ... Tease the top ...

She delicately envelops him.

He leans his head back looking to the roof with eyes closed. She is moaning. Sucking glorious cock, truely getting into it.

Mmmmmm ... Warm and salty. Should i take my tits out? Not yet, i don't want him to cum just yet. It's so hard. Oh baby.

"Spit on your fingers sailor! And rub it onto your cock for me"

"Umm couldnt you just.."

"Shut your mouth. Do I look like I am here to please you?"

She stands up with a little wobble, from the wine.

"Oh don't look at me like your world has just snapped back into existence. I am not here to suck your cock until you cum on my tits now am I? You would like to cum in these tits would you? Dirty man. Let me show you."

His large masculine hands roughly grasp at his shaft and red knob and he groans as her big natural breasts smash side to side across his face.

I know you like it when I push them together into your face, check out this tight top. Is that squashed enough for you? Here, let me pull and tweak my nipples, oh yes, bring them up all bullet tough for you. I can see you want them so much.

Her mouth and mind do not match.

"Keep your hands to yourself and your mind out of the gutter mister, or I shall take to you with this crop like you deserve. I insist that you invert your frame on my couch. Can you follow instructions?"

He nods and finds it difficult to invert 6 foot of frame on this couch. With his knees bent over the head rest and head slightly off the cushion at the neck, it is surprisingly comfortable once in position.

"Excellent I thought that would result in failure."

Loosening the knot of the top allows her tits to spring free.

"And keep your eyes down cast!"

She places a knee either side of his head so he is looking directly up the Prada skirt.

Look at you. All nervous like. You are making me all sticky and wet on my new knickers. Maybe I'll just touch it gently. Raise up the skirt from the front so you can get a good look. Wait wait I can do better.. pull aside these with legs wide and now i can show you ...

At this moment she realises that work, stress, finances, family, friends are forgotten. There is no phone, emails, requests or anyone asking for favours. No shopping, computers, cars and neither has she even considered the time ...

Sex.

With that, she firmly plants herself forward onto his face and allows his tongue to enter her. She trembles to the very soul.

His large warm hands cover her curves and she rises just slightly allowing his thumb to be inserted into a now sopping wet hole.

"Oh god. Take that thumb from me and run my juices over my backside."

Holy shit sailor, I am so wound up. Must not suck that cock in front of me.

Watching it pulse in front of her she gives in to it. Hungrily attempting to fit its thick length into her. She focuses on the bulb at the top and her hands go to work on the shaft with delicate abandon.

"This is quite uncomfortable for me. Stop."

The need to feel satisfied by his tongue pushes her boundaries aside. Colourful knickers are ejected, and she plonks herself with legs spread wide on the opposite couch, heels almost at her shoulders.

"Come here and make me cum."

She rubs her clit waiting for the silverback to spin from his tree, which is almost comical and hypnotic to watch.

"Undress in front of me slowly."

Pausing to make sure this is actually what she desires, he complies. Simply undressing slowly in front of her. Taking every care to be neat, tidy and show off his toned form.

Good man. Look at that body. I am so in love with every masculine inch. The ripples. Muscles and those eyes. The salt and pepper hair, the dark shadows of ridge lines, and the triangle above the massive cock. The veins. Thick calves. Strong legs.

She has worked herself into a frenzy in front of him. Boldly she inserts two fingers as well.

"Turn around and let me see your back. Put your hands on your head."

Oh shit I am actually going to cum

"Come and lick my ass right now"

Just the suggestion of this man's tongue reaching her sends her to gentle oblivion. Slowing her breathing, gasping deeper for cool air; her eyes close, her head rocks back and a quiver envelops her, as a spray of warm liquid mist dispenses in his direction.

Her face turns crimson and heat rash explodes across her neck. Sweat beads and pools off her body and she climaxes violently with absolute conviction.

Oh.. holy, mother fuckin, shit..

Just as she winds down and gently opens her eyes she feels the large thickness of his manhood fill her to the very core.

Whoa... hi!

He gently takes her ankles and from his kneeling position on the floor gracefully forces-in and retreats every beautiful inch. In and Out. In and out, of her dripping wet pussy.

Please ... careful ... gentle

In this bliss her mind goes silent. Just her breath, and the rhythm.

She pulls her knees to the point of pain, hips thrust forward trying to receive more. He is however at such a depth there is an uncomfortable ebb that could turn quite painful if he wanted it to.

Every few rhythms she gasps. Eyes exploding open like saucers, followed by a little wince. His return to just the right depth was causing internal mayhem and mental anguish.

Ouch! Is that my friggin uterus? Dam boy

"Please ... fuck me. Please do it faster and harder."

Wanting to claw and scream and bite and tear, nothing else mattered in this moment. The natural high is reached.

He withdrew suddenly. She could feel the stubble on his chin, his spikes between her thighs. A massive warm flat tongue found her rear and he forced her legs back into the head of the couch.

Darting and flicking the tip, forcing the opening and making her want more.

"Please I beg you"

Taking her clit into his mouth she could feel the vacuum of pressure as he suckled. Two, then three fingers found their way inside her and when the other leg fell, she drew steep breath, knowing what was to occur.

"Please, oh god please."

He inserted a finger inside her bum. Both hands working in and out in opposition, while his mouth fastened onto her little button.

"Oh my god stop teasing me and come and slap your fucking cock in me."

Please, your all the way down there, come up here. Close to me.

Able to draw breath when he stopped, their eyes met. He smiled. She was brimming with lust.

Reaching out she octopussed her arms and legs around him. Stuck fast and strong. Wanting to melt into the texture and muscle of him. These wide, powerful shoulders were divine. Thin hips, his 6 pack in her view.

Crush me

Their mouths met. Sensing her desire he dropped all his weight onto her body and held his manhood inside her. She was unable to wiggle and blissfully happy to surf his waves.

The soft leather couch groaned gentle and its feet edged across the stone flooring in little increments with each thrust. The frustration started to set in due to an inability to get any grip on the floor.

"Turn over for me" The husk in his voice slices the air.

Anything just ... no wait ... I have

"The stool in the kitchen" She says.

He stood and followed her curves stroking himself. She could sense the proximity and half stepped so he was against her back.

"Come ..."

Placing a knee onto the base of the stool she lent forward and gripped the back of the stool. Her hand reached down and let the air out of the centre tube bringing it up to almost too high.

Two huge hands gripped her hips and he missed her opening, sliding along her wetness.

Careful there big boy

Her hand guided him. The pace started slow and she looked outward over the view from the house. Boats on the water.

Oh shit

Faster. Quicker. His massive thrusts came almost all the way out and smashed all the way in. A hand took her delicate throat and pulled her up to her neck and cheek against his bristles.

In physical heaven, she relaxed into him. Giving in completely to his strength. Small grunts of hot air shot into her naked ear and he bites her shoulder.

Oblivion. Reaching down she v-shapes her fingers trying to hold herself open to him more. Alternating to stimulate her clit she loves the tense up of his thickness, knowing he was close.

A final release of his hand on her neck and the fury came pounding, pushing her to orgasm around him. Her shaking sent him over the edge and he pushed in one last time holding himself and pumping his seed into her.

The spiral down. Panting. Wet. Sweaty. Warm. Oozing.

Good lord

"That certainly removes all the worries of the working day."

She turned and pushed herself into his chest. His height was divinity. Wrapping her arms around his neck she reached up on toes to peck his lips, allowing him to catch his breath.

He smiled so sweet and warm and she drowned in those emerald green eyes.