Emma held out her trembling phone. John snatched it from her hands with a slow, firm grip, asserting his control. Without hesitation, he placed his hand on her head and pressed lightly, forcing her to her knees. Her legs buckled despite herself, her back against the cool wall of the room. Her heart pounded as she stared at him while his hand remained firmly placed on her head as a sign of domination.
Before her, John stood tall, his cock proudly erect mere inches from her face. Its heat seemed to radiate, brushing her already flushed cheeks with a warmth that mingled anticipation with a flicker of shame. Her green eyes locked onto its imposing presence, her mind racing.
John, a predatory grin curling his lips, gripped Emma’s phone with his free hand, the camera aimed squarely at her.
“You said you didn’t film faces,” Emma stammered, her voice trembling, barely a whisper.
He let out a deep, rumbling laugh.
“That, my sweet, depends on you… and how deep you can take me.” His voice, husky and taunting. “If you go deep enough, that pretty face of yours won’t even be in the frame.”
Before she could respond, he pulled her toward him with a fluid motion, his fingers tangling in her auburn curls with possessive confidence. Caught off guard, Emma’s lips parted instinctively, a reflex she regretted instantly as the head of his cock breached her mouth, sliding over her tongue. A wet, obscene sound filled the air as he pushed deeper, stretching her lips around him.
“Fuuuuck,” John growled, tilting his head back, eyes fluttering shut for a moment to savor the sensation. His primal groan vibrated through Emma’s chest, amplifying the shiver that coursed through her body. “You just proved one of my theories, sweetheart. White girls’ mouths like yours… they’re made to swallow black cocks like mine.”
His words, raw and provocative, hit Emma like a slap, igniting a surge of heat between her thighs. Her cheeks burned, not from embarrassment, but from an arousal she couldn’t deny. Her tongue, as if acting on its own, curled around him, exploring his smooth, hot texture, while her saliva spilled over, a thin trickle dripping down her chin. She tried to breathe through her nose, but each inhale was thick with his musky scent, intoxicating, pulling her deeper into this abyss of desire. "Nathan...", a voice in her head whispered, but it was drowned out by the wet sounds of her mouth working him, by the weight of his cock filling her palate. John, still filming, tilted the phone to capture the perfect angle, his grin widening as he watched the redhead at his feet.
“That’s it, slut,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with arrogant satisfaction. “Show me how much you want it.” His hips shifted slightly, pushing deeper, testing her limits.
The phone screen flickered, the camera’s glow vanishing to reveal Nathan’s name and photo, his smile frozen in the frame. Hearing the ringtone she had assigned to her fiancé, Emma’s heart lurched, a jolt of adrenaline freezing her muscles as her breath caught in her throat.
“Looks like your boyfriend’s back from his little errand,” he purred, his deep voice dripping with mockery. “Wondering where his sweet girl’s gone. Maybe I should answer with video, show him just how busy you are.”
On her knees, her mouth still stuffed with John’s thick cock, a scalding panic surged through her. Emma jerked back, her lips sliding slightly along John’s hot, taut skin. But his hand, firmly rooted in her red curls, held her in place with unyielding authority.
“No, no, sweetheart,” he said, laughing. “Don’t stop. I’m not answering with video.”
He swiped to accept the call in audio mode, instantly muting the mic, and held the phone to Emma’s ear.
“Emma?” Nathan’s voice crackled through the speaker, tinged with faint worry. “Emma, where are you?” His tone, soft but urgent, hung in the air, oblivious to the act unfolding just meters away, in a room he didn’t even suspect existed.
To John’s surprise, and immense delight, Emma didn’t slow down. If anything, her lips seemed to tighten around him, as if Nathan’s call, that reminder of her outside world, had stoked a deeper fire within her. A wet, lascivious sound accompanied each back-and-forth, her tongue dancing against the throbbing vein of his shaft.
Over half his cock now plunged into her mouth, stretching her delicate soft lips in a display that made John’s blood pound. He tightened his grip in her hair, halting her head mid-motion, his cock pulsing against her tongue.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice sharp, laced with an authority that brooked no defiance. Emma, her cheeks flushed, forced her eyes open, her deep green gaze struggling to meet his. She fought to lift her eyes, hindered by her position, by the sheer girth of his cock obscenely distending her mouth. John, relishing the sight, felt a raw surge of satisfaction wash over him. This redhead, so young, so pure in the eyes of the world, half his age, was at his feet, her white mouth stretched around his black cock, a vision of exquisite depravity. The thought that she could pass for a saint to anyone else, yet surrendered to him like this, made him throb even harder.
John ended the call, the phone screen darkening. He handed the device to Emma, his burning gaze locked on her, a mocking grin curling his lips.
“Stay right there,” he commanded, his deep voice thrumming with authority. “Text your fiancé so he doesn’t worry. Say whatever you want, but tell him you’re not free for at least twenty minutes.”
Emma’s trembling fingers clutched the phone, her pulse hammering in her temples. Her lips, still wrapped around John’s cock as he’d ordered, didn’t budge. Was it defiance, instinct, or a desire she could no longer control? Her tongue, as if acting on its own, slid along his taut skin, caressing the pulsing vein with a languid, lascivious touch. A rough sigh escaped John, his body shuddering under the unexpected action of her touch.
Emma’s eyes, half-lidded, gleamed with a hazy intensity as her fingers flew across the keyboard, typing a rushed message to Nathan, writing a message and hitting “send” without thinking, then holding the phone out to John.
The gesture, automatic, almost subservient, sparked a gleam of triumph in John’s eyes. He snatched the phone with a brutal satisfaction, his fingers brushing hers without a hint of gentleness. Then, with a sudden motion, he pulled out of her mouth. A thick, glistening strand of saliva connected his cock to Emma’s mouth for a fleeting moment before snapping, a droplet falling to her chin.
Emma blinked, as if yanked from a trance. Reality crashed over her: Nathan, the hotel, what she’d just done. Her breath hitched, her heart racing in a surge of panic and shame.
“I… I have to go,” she stammered, her voice shaky, barely audible, her cheeks flushed with the intensity of the moment as she stood up.
John, unfazed, ignored her words. “Get on the bed,” he ordered, his voice sharp.
Emma remained frozen, her breath shallow. John stepped forward, his imposing frame towering over her, his rigid, throbbing cock standing between them, nearly grazing her skin. Her green eyes, clouded with arousal, stared at the floor, unable to meet John’s piercing gaze.
“I said, get on the bed. On all fours. And you’ll get what you came for,” he declared, his deep voice unyielding. He leaned in, his hot breath brushing her ear. “I’m gonna show you what it means to be truly dominated,” he whispered. “I’m gonna ravage you.”
She thought her arousal had peaked, but her body proved her wrong, an electric shiver rippling across her skin. Without a word, head lowered, she moved to the canopied bed, her motions slow and sensual. Her hips swayed subtly, her black lace lingerie clinging to her athletic curves. Oxytocin flooded her system, drowning the signals her brain had sent moments ago, urging her to flee. In that moment, Nathan ceased to exist.
John paused, taking in the sight of the redhead on all fours, her fiery hair cascading over her shoulders. The lingerie she wore, the very set he’d recommended in their online exchanges, seemed tailored to her, accentuating the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts. Knowing she’d bought it for Nathan but was displaying it for him sent a pulse of perverse satisfaction through him. He took the opportunity to snap a photo with Emma’s phone to capture the moment.
He approached with slow, deliberate steps, placed the phone on the bed at Emma’s feet, then circled her leisurely before grasping one of the silken drapes of the canopy. Emma’s eyes followed him, a flicker of confusion in her gaze, quickly replaced by a jolt when he grabbed her wrist with a sharp tug, throwing her off balance. With expert precision, he bound the fabric tightly around her wrist, then repeated the motion with the other, his movements swift and assured. Emma, motionless, offered no resistance, her body thrumming with anticipation, her mind consumed by desire.
John positioned himself behind her, his hands gliding over her hips before yanking her lace panties down to her knees, exposing her glistening sex. Without preamble, he plunged two fingers inside her, her soaked core practically swallowing them with its heat. A long, throaty moan spilled from Emma’s lips, muffled as she bit her lower lip, her teeth leaving a pale mark on her skin. John withdrew his fingers, slick with her arousal, and delivered a resounding slap to her ass, her flesh quivering under the impact. Emma flinched, a cry of surprise bursting from her throat, swiftly replaced by another moan as John thrust his fingers back inside her, plunging deep with a relentless rhythm. For several minutes, he alternated slaps and penetrations, each strike making her bound body shudder, each intrusion drawing sounds she couldn’t contain. Emma, trapped by her restraints and her own desire, sank into a trance where nothing existed but the raw sensation of John dominating her.
Unable to hold back any longer, John positioned himself behind Emma, standing at the edge of the canopied bed. With a firm tug, he pulled her hips toward him, tightening the silken drapes binding her wrists, heightening her sense of being a captive offered up to him. He aligned his rigid cock at the entrance of her glistening sex, his powerful black hands anchoring onto her pale hips. With deliberate slowness, he pushed into her, his tip parting her soaked folds, penetrating her tightness with relentless precision.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” John growled, his husky voice thrumming with raw pleasure at the exquisite resistance of her body. When he was two-thirds inside, he began slow, languid thrusts, each motion wrenching moans from Emma, cries of ecstasy that filled the room.
Emboldened by her unrestrained vocalizations, John quickened his pace, his thrusts turning brutal, each impact slapping against her ass, punctuated by pauses of one or two seconds, leaving her body quivering with anticipation. Emma’s flesh, reddened from earlier spanks, trembled with each assault, her moans morphing into high-pitched, almost feral cries.
In a fleeting moment of clarity, Emma, her mind fogged by ecstasy, stammered, “You…” A shrill cry cut her off as John plunged into her again, filling her with a force that made her entire being vibrate.
“You can’t come inside me.” Her voice, fragile, betrayed her fear.
John froze abruptly, his cock still throbbing inside her. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by Emma’s panting breaths.
“No, please, don’t stop, keep going,” she begged, her voice trembling, almost desperate, her body craving the continuation of this storm of sensation.
John pulled out in one swift motion. Emma let out a groan of frustration, her hips arching instinctively, seeking to reclaim his touch.
“If you want me, you take all of me,” he declared, his voice heavy. “No limits.”
Emma, panic surging, felt her heart race. “I forgot my pill this month,” she stammered, fear piercing her voice. “We always use condoms… but you can come in my mouth, I promise I’ll swallow!”
Her tone, pleading, revealed a desperate submission, an offer she’d never imagined making. John, caught off guard by her proposal, felt a new wave of arousal harden his erection. He leaned forward, his face brushing her ear, his powerful hands bracing on the bed on either side of Emma for balance. His cock, hard and searing, grazed her sex, an exquisite torture that made Emma shudder, her body thrumming with unbearable desire.
“If you want me to keep going, I’ll come inside you,” he murmured, his voice low. Then, in a whisper, he added something, his words slipping into her mind. He straightened, one hand guiding his cock back to her entrance, the other gripping her hip firmly, his fingers digging into her pale skin.
“If you want me to continue, all the way, repeat what I just said,” he ordered, his voice calm.
Emma bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the tender flesh. To repeat those words was to cross an irreversible threshold, a point of no return. But wasn’t it already too late? Her body, betrayed by its own desire, screamed to continue, while her mind wavered, torn between fear and the consuming urge to lose herself completely.
John grabbed the phone left on the bed, then stepped closer and positioned his tip at the entrance of Emma’s soaked sex. Still on all fours, her wrists bound by the silken canopy drapes, she desperately tried to push back against him, her body craving more of his searing intrusion.
But John, a cruel smile curling his lips, held her hips in an iron grip, preventing her from taking him deeper, relishing the control he wielded over her desire. He raised his free hand to frame Emma in this submissive position and started recording a new video.
“Say it,” he commanded, his voice cold, authoritative.
Emma bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the tender flesh. She hesitated, her breath shallow.
“Say it,” he repeated, unyielding, beginning to ease his tip out of her wet core, the sensation of emptiness wrenching a shudder of frustration from Emma. The slow, almost sadistic withdrawal shattered her final defenses.
“I’m your white slut, Sir!” she screamed suddenly, her hoarse voice echoing through the room. The words burst forth like a release, an admission that sealed her surrender. A smile of satisfaction, almost triumphant, lit up John’s face. With a powerful thrust, he buried himself in her, nearly to the hilt, his cock stretching her with a force that tore a guttural cry of pleasure from Emma, her body rocked by the impact.
“Say it again,” John ordered, his deep voice commanding, as he resumed his thrusts, slow but brutal, each stroke slamming into her with devastating precision. The bed creaked under the onslaught, the drapes pulling taut against her wrists, amplifying her sense of being at his mercy.
“I’m your white slut, Sir! You can use me as you please!” she cried, her voice breaking with ecstasy. All resistance had vanished, dissolved in the incandescent heat consuming her body. Her moans, now uncontrollable, filled the room, mingling with the wet sound of their bodies colliding, the slap of his skin against hers. Emma, trapped by her restraints and her own desire, was reduced to a creature of pleasure, her thoughts obliterated by the moment, by the sensation of John filling her, dominating her, ravaging her.
Emma felt her body teetering on the edge of a precipice. A colossal orgasm was building within her, a searing wave ready to engulf her, each of John’s thrusts driving her deeper into an abyss of pleasure. But suddenly, John froze, his cock still throbbing inside her, wrenching a groan of frustration from Emma.
He stopped the video on the phone and let it drop to the carpet. The current position, though deliciously intense, prevented him from penetrating her fully. John placed a broad, firm hand on the small of her back, pressing with unyielding authority. “Arch,” he murmured, his deep voice thrumming with an implicit command. His fingers dug slightly into her skin, guiding her pelvis to tilt further, her hips rising, her pussy opening even more to him.
Emma understood, in a fleeting spark of awareness, that John sought to possess her entirely, to shatter the last barriers of her body and mind. Her breath hitched, her muscles quivering under the pressure of his hand, her pussy throbbing with anticipation. Her red hair, disheveled, cascaded over her shoulders as her body curved for him.
“Good slut,” he growled, his hoarse voice laced with arrogant satisfaction, as he repositioned his cock at her entrance.
She managed to gasp, her voice broken with effort: “Stop… you can’t, you’re already filling me completely.”
John, a cold smirk on his lips, cut her off. “Shut up, slut, I know you can take it,” he snapped.
He pushed in again, deeper this time, his tip parting her soaked folds with deliberate slowness, as if savoring every inch of her tightness. A guttural cry tore from Emma’s throat, her body rocked by the intensity of the intrusion. Her thoughts, already fragmented, dissolved completely, giving way to a primal urge, a total submission to the man dominating her.
“Take it all, champ,” John growled, teeth clenched, as he drove the final centimeters of his cock into her, filling every inch of her core.
He took a deep breath, his powerful hands gripping her hips, feeling Emma’s body quiver under his fingers. Then, he began to fuck her. Hard. Unrestrained. In fact, he wasn’t just fucking her, he was pounding her, each brutal thrust slapping against her flesh.
In mere seconds, Emma’s body was obliterated by a wave of pleasure so intense it seemed to erase her very existence. A colossal orgasm, unmatched in its ferocity, tore through her, making every muscle in her athletic frame quake. Her green eyes, half-lidded, lost themselves in a haze of ecstasy, her mouth opening in a silent scream, unable to produce a sound under the onslaught of this devastating climax.
Her red hair, slick with sweat, grazed the silk sheets, and her pelvis, arched to the extreme,...
