Army Domme - Brandi Mae

Captain Brandi Mae stands in the doorway, uniform crisp, tie straight, buttons fighting the swell of her tits. Eriq lies there, shaking. She drags him up by the collar and presses her shoe into his chest. Lick it clean, she orders. Her voice cuts like a whip. He obeys, tongue working leather while she laughs, low and cruel. She strips the jacket, flexes, and watches his eyes lock on the hard lines of her muscle. Kiss it. Worship it. He plants frantic kisses on her biceps while she spits every name he’s ever feared. Feet next. Bare soles shove against his face, toes forcing past his lips, and she calls him a filthy little worm who gets hard from dirt and sweat. When she sits, it’s full weight, face buried deep between her cheeks, breath stolen, tongue buried where she wants it. She grinds, mocks, reminds him how small he is under a real woman’s body. The beard scrapes her thighs every time she shifts, and the smile that crosses her face is pure satisfaction. She owns every second, every inch, every gasp he manages to steal.