Worshipping the Master

I walked through the door, and you gave me a piercing stare that shook me right down to the very core. My core, that is. Throbbing pussy set alight, I tried to squeeze my legs together to suppress my need for your dick inside of me. You frowned slightly, raised a hand, and gestured for me to get down on my knees. I can recognize that body language anywhere, Sir. I dropped to a crouch in front of you, and you unbuckled your pants and shoved them down to your ankles. Then I was like a very young girl with her mother’s breast, because my mouth latched onto your cock like a suckling youngster, and my lips began to tighten and my hand went around to your ass, fingering your hole and rubbing it wildly. I blew you with enthusiasm as I rimmed your ass with my finger, and then I crawled around behind you and began to use my tongue. Jerking you off with my right hand, I spread your ass with my left one and began to lick and worship your ass with spirit and appreciation. You’re getting close, so you reach around, grab my hair, and yank me in front you. Sticking your cock in my mouth, you face fuck me violently before pulling out and creaming all over my face. When I think I can’t be humiliated any further, you shove your limp cock back down my throat and piss inside of my mouth. I swallow it all, perfectly, and then after wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, thank you for the privilege of allowing me to worship you.

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