Fanboy Pussy Worship Dream Come True

Tanner's been staring at our bodies for years. We hear it straight from his mouth and the fever in his voice. Fine. We chain his wrists and ankles in thick iron links that bite into his skin, and he groans like he's finally home. Lorelei goes straight for his cock with the toe of her boot while I feed a thick dildo between his teeth and strap it tight. Every thrust makes the chains sing. He licks boot leather like it's holy, tongue working the shine until it's streaked with spit and sweat. Lorelei spreads her latex-covered thighs over his face and lets the scent of her cunt fill the mask, never letting him taste until she decides he can. I lay the whip across his chest in measured strokes, each snap pulling another yelp, another drop of sweat that rolls down his temples. When I slide my strap-on between his cheeks the room fills with the wet smack of latex on skin. Every inch disappears while the gag keeps his moans trapped and useless. Lorelei grinds down until her clit drags across the dildo, using his mouth like furniture, climax tearing through her with a low, ugly sound. We keep him bound and dripping. We keep him wanting. He came looking for two goddesses and he found the real thing, heavier than any fantasy and twice as mean.