Strip Club Domme 14 - Natalia Starr

Glenn walks into the MeanBitch Strip Club and stops cold when he sees Natalia Starr on stage. Blonde hair, tight business skirt, stockings that climb her long legs—she looks at him like she already owns the room. She steps down, walks straight over, plants her heels and leans in close. “You’re mine tonight,” she says. “My driver. My maid. My slave.” He swallows hard. She turns, grabs the back of his head, pulls his face right between her cheeks. He breathes through the fabric of her skirt, her warmth pressing against his mouth. Natalia hikes the skirt higher, slides her panties aside, and sits on him full weight. She grinds slowly, drags her bare pussy over his nose and lips, then leans back so her asshole covers his tongue. “Lick.” He obeys. She pulls her feet up onto his chest, toes painted deep red, and shoves one foot into his mouth while she keeps smothering his face. His beard scratches the soft skin of her ass as she rocks harder, using his tongue like a toy. Natalia stands, peels off her blouse, shows off her perfect tits, then sits again—thicker, wetter, controlling every breath he takes. He’s hard, aching, leaking inside his pants, but she doesn’t care. She keeps his tongue busy, keeps her ass planted, keeps whispering filthy promises about what he’ll be doing for her after the club closes: driving her town car, scrubbing her kitchen floors, waiting on his knees whenever she snaps her fingers. Every time he tries to speak she just lowers herself again, cuts him off with smooth, commanding flesh. The night stretches long, and Glenn stays exactly where she puts him—under her, used, grateful, owned.