I moaned, pushing back against his hand, begging for more. He obliged, his fingers moving in and out of me, his thumb circling my clit. I was a writhing mess of lust and need, my body aching for release.
He undressed, his cock springing free, hard and ready. He positioned himself behind me, his hands on my hips, and thrust into me with a single, powerful stroke. I cried out, the sensation of being filled, of being claimed, overwhelming.
He fucked me hard and fast, his hips slapping against my ass, his balls hitting my clit with each thrust. I could feel my orgasm building, a coiling tension in my core. And then, with a final, deep thrust, he came, filling me with his hot, sticky cum. I followed soon after, my body convulsing around his cock, my screams of pleasure echoing off the walls.
In the aftermath, we collapsed onto the bed, our bodies slick with sweat and cum. I curled up against him, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “You’re such a good little slut,” he whispered, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. “Sir’s proud of you.”
I smiled, a satisfied, slutty grin, already eager for our next playtime. “Thank you, Sir,” I purred, my hand reaching down to stroke his softening cock. “I’m always ready to please you.”
And with that, I knew that I had found my perfect Sir, a man who could satisfy my every desire, who could make me feel like a true little girl, playing and exploring in the safest of hands.
He spanked me, his hand connecting with my flesh with a satisfying smack. I yelped, more from surprise than pain, and he soothed the sting with a gentle rub. “Good girl,” he praised, his fingers slipping into my soaking wet pussy. “You’re so ready for Sir, aren’t you?”
