Brat Domme 6 - Cecelia Taylor

Cecelia Taylor stands in crisp business attire with her blonde hair catching the light. Glenn King doesn’t know what hits him when she shows up selling cookies door-to-door. “Each cookie comes with a pair of panties I’ve already worn,” she says, smirk sharp. He reaches for his wallet. She laughs and waves the panties in front of him, letting the soft fabric brush his face. His pulse climbs. She watches him sink, then orders him down. Knees hit the floor. She stretches out one bare foot, painted toes flexing. He kisses each one, beard grazing soft skin. She giggles, low and mean. “Old men turn into such easy toys.” He keeps kissing, tongue working between her toes, hungry. She turns, lifts her skirt, and tells him to kiss her ass. His mouth finds the warm curve, lips parting, reverent. She pushes him flat on his back and drops onto his face. Full weight, full control. He gasps beneath her, beard scraping as she grinds. She rides every gasp, every twitch, taking more with each roll of her hips. Her body is small, tight, merciless. He is nearly three times her age, and she owns him anyway. The scene pulses with facesitting, foot worship, ass worship, and the bratty sparkle in her eyes as she strips him of every last shred of pride.