He sits on the love-seat holding a black leather whip with five tails of soft leather splayed out over his knee. The erotic toy looks out of place in his hand because he’s dressed in grey business pants, white pin-striped collared shirt, brown brogue shoes, tortoise-shell spectacles and a red tie he’s loosened at the neck.
He says he’s on an extended lunch break from an important business meeting and he wants to let off some steam. That’s why he’s here with me in suite one, the deluxe boudoir here at Le Penthouse Suite, the most reputable first-class bordello on the east coast glitter strip.
His eyes wander over my tiny petite body, so fully revealed in the black satin lingerie set I’m wearing, the diaphanous G-string showing the tightness of my pussy through the transparent fabric, the transparent brassiere accentuating my firm nipples and the fullness of my perky breasts, the garter belt and stockings highlighting the length of my lithe and toned thighs with the high-V-line framing my young pussy.
My long and dark brown hair cascades forward over my shoulder, and this is the first thing he grasps and feels when he stands and walks over to me. Fondling the chestnut locks between his fingers while the whip dangles beside his thigh in his other hand. He’s in his forties, blonde with a determined look in his eyes and a face that seems a little grim, lined with long-nights of stress and board meetings.
“You’ve been a bad girl Kira,” and he pulls me close and kisses me hard on the lips. He kisses me again and pulls me into his body so that I can feel his bulging erection hidden in his grey pants. I can feel the leather whip hard against my buttocks, because his hands are encircling me. He gives me a light tap on the swell of my bottom with the leather handle and it feels a little cold and hard.
He kisses me one more time on the neck, sucking the flesh there hard enough to leave a red mark, and then he pulls down my brassiere exposing my breasts, and starts to suck my nipples, pulling me even closer and harder into his embrace, pressing his erection hard against my pussy, rubbing himself against me so that I whimper and tremble a little.
He spins me around and forces me over to the love seat to sit while he undoes his belt and fly, unfolding his throbbing and glistening erection before my face. I look up at him pleadingly with my blue eyes, but already he’s pressing his shaft against my mouth, rubbing his length all over my face so that it leaves sticky traces of pre-cum on my cheeks and eye-lids. He pushes his shaft into my hair and rubs his manhood against my ear, and then he traces the head back along my cheek, onto my lips, and he forces his erection into my mouth.
I suck just a little at first, but he grips the back of my head and forces his length deeper into my mouth, and I start sucking him, long and deep. He’s not satisfied and plunges his length deeper into my mouth so that it hits the back of my throat and I gag, a string of saliva and pre-cum falling on his unzipped grey pants, which have pooled at his feet.
He pulls me up and turns me around, and says, “Yes Kira, you’ve been really naughty,” and I place my hands on the back rest of the love seat, one knee on the seat, my buttocks exposed before him.
It is then that he whips me once, a little too hard and an involuntary yelp escapes my mouth. He whips me again, but this time I don’t cry out. He whips me a third time hard enough to leave red marks, and then he steps close and rubs his length up along the flesh of my buttocks, up under the strap of my G-string, sitting it on the groove between each cheek. He reaches under my torso with the whip and he drags them across my breasts and then he puts the handle in my mouth and I bite down on the shaft. I realize what he’s going to do and I reach for a condom packet on the love seat beside me.
He’s pre-occupied with rubbing his shaft against my pussy, under my legs, between my thighs, tracing more pre-cum all over my flesh. He settles his length against my pussy lips, having pushed his manhood under the fabric of the crotch of my G-string and that’s when I reach under me and grab his throbbing erection and stop him from penetrating my tender pussy.
I hiss back at him in defiance, “Condom,” and he says nothing, but lets me turn around and fit the prophylactic on to his pulsing shaft. He spins me around again and whips me again, once, twice, three times, and then he moves in close behind me, and presses the head of his thick erection against my pussy lips, rubbing it up along the groove until he finds the opening, and then he penetrates me with a tight pop.
He starts pounding me on the love seat, thrusting into me, over and over, this middle-aged business man on a lunch break, holding a leather whip, submitting me to a game of domination. He pounds me deep and hard, and reaches and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling it back a little, then reaches the whip around to my face again, forces me to bite down on the handle.
He adjusts his position and finds deeper penetration into me, hitting my G-spot so I groan in pleasure. He thrusts for endless moment after endless moment, three rapid thrusts then three slower, deep thrusts. When he let’s go of my hair, still keeping the whip in my mouth, but grabbing my waist with the other hand, his thrusting becomes more manic and urgent, and then he let’s go of the whip, and I let it drop out of my mouth. He grips my wait with both hands and pulls me onto his shaft and his thrusting into me is deep and hard and heavy, and in a sudden stiffening of his grip he orgasms deep inside me.
His lunch break is not over, he’s still hard, and he moves me over to the king-sized double bed, picking up the whip again.