Kinky JOI: Daisy's Hotel Room

You and Daisy Ducati really hit it off down at the hotel bar, and now she’s in your room. You’re perched on the edge of the bed, staring up while she crawls across the sheets in a tight red dress, her acrylic nails dragging over her breasts. “We’re going to have so much fun,” she says, voice low, “but you don’t get to touch me.” So you sit in the corner like a scolded dog while she teases just out of reach, fingers sinking into her tits. “You’re not man enough to fuck me,” she murmurs, “but maybe if you’re good I’ll find a real man downstairs and let you watch.” She giggles, wicked and sharp, then peels the dress up, revealing nothing but a red thong. “Pull that pathetic cock out.” Her eyes flick down. “Is that all?” She strips the thong away, spreads naked on your sheets, and grabs the Hitachi. “Tug it with two fingers, that’s all it needs.” The toy buzzes hard against her clit. “Slap your own face while I cum.” She presses, grinds, stares straight through you, and the first orgasm rips out of her in a hard, wet shudder. “You’ll never make me feel this good,” she spits. “You’re just my pay pig now—keep stroking while rejection soaks my cunt.” She counts you down, cruel and slow. When you spurt onto the carpet she laughs, points, and orders you to lick every drop. “Get dressed. That’s all you get.”