Total Submission

Melissa walks in like she owns him. Nade’s already tied to the chair, wrists behind the slats, legs spread and useless. She doesn’t speak. She just straddles him, lips on his throat, teeth on his ear, hands sliding down until his shirt’s gone and she’s grinding slow and hard against the bulge in his pants. Every roll of her hips drags her heat over him, makes him twitch, makes him ache. When she drops to her knees it’s only to tease: wet mouth swallowing him deep, then off again, hand pumping once, twice, then nothing. She climbs up, sinks down on his cock raw, rides until his breath hitches and his thighs shake, then lifts off, leaving him throbbing and empty. The mattress comes next. She stretches him out, face down or face up doesn’t matter—she’s on top either way. She works herself on his length, grinding her clit until her whole body locks and she comes loud, soaking him, while his cock stays buried and denied. Finally, when he’s shaking, panting, begging without words, she lets him spill inside her, pulse after hot pulse, exactly when she decides.