“Sorry, mistress,” he says in a truly enthusiastic manner, hoping to get back into her good graces. His cock felt like it was going to explode if it didn’t get a little loving in the near future. “I’m sorry for disappointing you. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“It’s too late now,” she says. “Maybe next time you’ll think a little harder before acting like a spoiled brat. Now lie down on the couch lengthwise with your back to the cushions and your face towards the ceiling.”
Scott does as he’s told without putting up a fight. Even though he’s protesting at every turn he is truly starting to enjoy the submissive role. Taylor had been spot-on earlier when she’d said there is something liberating about just doing what you are told. He doesn’t know if it’s the lack of responsibility or the feeling of helplessness or something else entirely but he is definitely getting used to it. Even looking forward to it.
He is just starting to wonder what’s going to come next when Taylor climbs atop him, scoots forward until she’s straddling his head, then drops her suddenly panty-less pussy right onto his face, engulfing his mouth and nose, smothering him completely.
Caught off guard, Scott gasps for breath. But there’s no air to be found. His world consists of Taylor’s inner flesh and nothing else. Like a fish out of water he struggles, overwhelmed by the sweet and tangy stickiness of her juices.
Panicking, he tries to push Taylor off with his hands but he doesn’t have any leverage and her position is too entrenched. After a couple seconds of ineffectual resistance he gives up.
“That’s right,” Taylor says. “Just relax. You’ll enjoy it more.”
Scott’s not sure about the second part but he is able to relax a bit. Even though he feels like he can’t breathe he has come to realize that there is enough air to keep him conscious, allowing his panic to subside.
Taylor remains in place for another minute before finally lifting herself off his face. He gasps for breath, his face red and his eyes watering.
“Not bad,” she says, looking down at him. “Way to take it like a man.”
“Thanks,” Scott manages. He realizes he’s smiling and his excitement has increased further.
“Keep it up and I might even free your cock from its denim prison,” she says.
“Just tell me what else I need to do, mistress.”
Taylor tilts her head, gives him a little nod of appreciation. “Do you really mean that?”
Scott nods and looks up at her expectantly. His eyes are hungry with anticipation.
“Open your mouth,” she says. “And keep it open no matter what.”
He nods and does as he’s told.
Still squatting above him, her pussy mere inches from his face and positioned directly above his open mouth, Taylor goes to work on herself, sticking two fingers inside her pussy, working them in and out, faster and faster, until her juices are dripping from her pussy and straight into his mouth.
“Drink it up,” Taylor says, working herself feverishly to give Scott more of her pussy juices to swallow. “That’s a good boy,” she says, her eyes intense and boring down on him. “Do you like how I taste?”
“I fucking love it,” he says. “Give me more. I want all of you.”
“Yeah?” she says, her excitement audible. “You want more?”
He nods vigorously.
Taylor’s left hand gets involved, going to work on her clit while she continues banging herself with her other hand. She works herself over in both places until she’s right on the verge of orgasm. “Stick out your tongue,” she says. “Now.”
Scott obliges.
Taylor drops her pussy back onto his face, grinding his face and riding his tongue while continuing to work her clit with her fingers.
As she drops onto his face Scott finds his excitement reaching new places. He loves the taste and feel of her insides; silky smooth and sweet and tangy and salty all at the same time. Because she’s riding his face instead of smothering him, Scott is able to see up the length of her body while she moves back and forth against him. Her head is thrown back and her back is arched and she’s making sounds he’s never heard from her (or any other woman, for that matter) before.
Then he feels her body tense up for just a moment, followed by the loudest, most intense moan of the night, and then his face is drenched even further by her juices as she reaches orgasm.
“Holy fucking shit,” she cries, leaning forward and grasping the edge of the couch as she catches her breath. “That felt so fucking good.” She seems to be talking to herself more than him. Which is fine. As long as she’s happy.
“You liked that, huh?” he says, risking her ire.
“I liked it a lot,” she replies, sliding down onto his chest and leaning over to plant a kiss on his lips. “In fact, I liked it so much I might actually free your dick from where it’s been trapped all evening. Would you like that?”
“I would like that very much, mistress,” he says.
“Good answer,” Taylor says. “Very good answer.”
She slides down his body and positions herself between his legs. Working slowly, methodically, drawing it out, Taylor undoes his zipper, reaches in, unfurls his cock from inside his pants, and frees it. It’s sticking straight up in the air, as hard as it’s ever been in his life.
Scott gasps in relief. He never would have thought how good it could feel just to pull his cock out of his pants. And there, he realizes, lies the genius of Taylor’s approach. All the things he’d taken for granted in the past could be of
