White Walls

He is mesmerised by her husky crooning voice. By her stroking hands, her moving hips, her undulating body. It has him feeling he's been freed from reality. The white featureless room has disappeared; all that's exists is her and him. In the background he hears faint music and knows it instantly. Twenty something minutes of languid possession, of sex made sound. Ravels Bolero. Corny, he briefly feels, before he's lost again.

She pushes her firming cock to him, to his lips, he opens them tremblingly takes her into him, she moves in and out controlling him. He sucks, works his tongue over her, does as she commands him. She fucks his face deeper, he gasps, chokes. She eases off, she has shown him what she can do, how much power she has over him. He is fixed to that hard wooden seat, unable to move till she is done. He has paid her, yet its she who is using him to pleasure her flesh.

She is rock hard now, big. He is afraid of how big. Loves how big, how wet, how strong. How she controls him.

She pulls her self out of his mouth. Pulls free of his lips, leaving him hungry for her meat.

"Mmmm. Will I give it to you now baby?" she asks in her husky seductive voice.. "You want my lovely cock inside you now. Its what you came for, isn't it baby," she croons to him.

Her stroking hand, her moving hips, her undulating body; holding him there. Unable to move, forced to do her bidding. Wanting it. Like this. Yes.

He nods, unable to speak. Fascinated by that rod of man he wants to feel inside him. Fear grips him, he reaches out plants his face between her tits, pulls her to him, pants in fear. Her soft tits ease him back, calm him. He's still so hard, her tits have helped him through.

She pulls his trousers down, he hitches up his butt for her and she slides them down to his feet, under them, discards them. His arse is naked now on the hard chair. Its uncomfortable, that's how he wanted it, uncomfortable, overpowering.

She lifts his legs.