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Cravings of lust and sin drive a woman to search for the one man who will satisfy her needs.
Cynthia felt a single droplet of sweat trek its way slowly down the valley of her spine. Her unbound breasts shifted slightly beneath the cream lace of her top and her nipples, flushed a dark obscene red, thrust proudly against and almost through the tightly stretched cotton. She plucked determinedly at the aching tips and smirked with satisfaction when they finally protruded through the tiny gaps.

A dirty smile worked its way across her pretty features and lust roared through her bloodstream as she drew a single fingertip across her gloss stained mouth and then smeared the sticky, pink residue across the tips of her peeking nipples. Watching as her fingers twisted and pulled on the swollen tips created a visceral need deep within her core that demanded satisfaction.

Cynthia inhaled deeply and her unique feminine perfume wafted around her, filling her senses with the earthy scent of her desire. She watched in the dull mirror as her pupils dilated and obscured the pale green, leaving her heated gaze almost black. She felt hollow and empty; devoid of any of emotion bar lust.

Letting her head tip to the side Cynthia intently examined herself: pale, creamy skin stretched taut over bone and sinew, the curve of a cheekbone dusted with the sun’s kisses, the thrust of bone and the dip of flesh at the hip; all curves leading to the cradle of her desire.

Her eyes almost entirely black now, drifted ever downward to the source of all her frustrations; the soft mound of her sex.

A trail of desire slid down her inner thigh, tickling the sensitive skin and Cynthia found the temptation to taste unbearable. Balancing carefully she placed her foot upon the lip of the basin and as she searched her reflection she found herself lost, consumed with the way the drenched folds of her sex glistened in the dim lighting; soft pouting lips slightly flushed and glazed with need, the outer lips split like a ripe peach and revealing the tight bud of her clit. Cynthia grazed her clit with the tip of her fingernail sending another creamy droplet of need coursing down her inner thigh.

In the dim lighting Cynthia watched as the desperate animal she hid behind a serene smile prowled; it lurked beneath her skin, pacing like a sleek wildcat caught in a hunter's trap. Her image shimmered momentarily merging with the creature in the mirror, and within her eyes the twisted, swirling cravings of a woman lost.

A gasp of shock echoed behind her, shattering the moment. Cynthia’s haunted eyes speared the dark haired matron staring at her from the toilet stall door. Without a flicker of embarrassment the, Cynthia drew her slim finger along the trail of fluids on her thigh and up through her weeping sex. The stunned woman froze and Cynthia smiled slowly as she bought her creamy finger to her mouth, “Hmmm,” she hummed softly, “Want to taste?”

Cynthia’s lips curled into a sultry smile as she held out her sticky finger, her head tipped to one side inquiringly as if it was an everyday occurrence to offer up dew soaked fingers to women in hotel bathrooms, “No? Pity, I do have quite a unique flavour I’ve been told; rather like tart lemons.”

The older woman’s face froze into a mask of shock and disdain, “Well, I never!” she hissed between pursed lips.

Cynthia suckled the digit calmly as she lowered her raised leg and adjusted the silk, impatiently flicking the material so that it once again clung lovingly to her lush curves.

The obviously flustered woman stood frozen, the agitated rise and fall of her bosom preventing Cynthia from leaving the restroom and re-entering the hotel foyer.

“Changed your mind?” she whispered huskily as she pressed forward.

Heated breath scored across Cynthia’s nipples, making them ruche into tight little buds; the older woman’s pupils dilated, her mouth slack as her tongue snuck out to wet the dry flesh of her lips. She swallowed audibly, her pulse pounding in the hollow of her neck as she found herself unable to tear her eyes from Cynthia’s breasts.

“Later perhaps?” murmured Cynthia as she strolled from the restroom; hips rocking, breasts jiggling and the older woman completely forgotten.


Oily need slithered relentlessly through Cynthia’s veins, seeping insidiously through sinew and bone to pool in the heated delta between her slim thighs. Her bottom shifted restlessly upon the cold leather of the bar stool, a minute movement of pale, slim thighs that caused the smooth lips of her sex to grind. She hissed almost silently in pleasure.

Slumberous eyes widened and then blinked slowly, her hungry gaze had found what she’d been hunting for; on a couch in the hotel lobby sat a man. He couldn’t possibly have seen the calculation that sharpened the icy depths only that her pale eyes now concentrated solely on him. She was shameless in the obvious way her gaze consumed him: eyes sharp and hungry as they wound with deliberate intent from his full lower lip across broad shoulders. Her eyes stalked up and down his muscular frame before returning to view with obvious pleasure the thick ridge that rode his upper thigh.

She slipped her pink tongue across her parted lips and with a studied move bit her sharp, white teeth into the damp flesh, her eyes downcast. She waited, breath held, muscles coiled tightly as her cunt clenched sending a rush of cream to dampen the pale flesh of her inner thighs.

Deliberately, Cynthia dipped her fingertip into her glass, swirling it slowly in the cool liquid before dampening her nipple with a drop of wine before continuing the downward glide to her thigh, the almost casual caress fired off electrical currents straight to her seeping slit. The man’s complete attention was riveted on the thrust of rose flushed nipples and the progress of her slim fingers. His hungry gaze darted once more to Cynthia, his lips parted and he unconsciously mimicked the darting movement of her tongue as she swiped it across her full lip. Her fingers hovered momentarily over her mound and the man’s eyes darted around the room as if not quite sure what to expect. With painstaking movements, Cynthia allowed her thighs to drift apart; the folds of her skirt clung lovingly to her thighs momentarily before slithering slowly to one side, revealing sheer, black stockings. His eyes bugged wide when he realised her smooth, glistening pussy was completely bare.

He was lost, staring with unblinking shock at her glistening folds, and then he faltered; eyes shifting and flickering about him as his cock visibly thickened, thrusting upward to form an obvious rise in his slacks. He panicked, hands frantically searched for something, anything, to cover his arousal.

Cynthia’s rising lust slammed to a halt, her disappointment burned away the gripping need engulfing her twitching slit. The man’s inept fumbling and obvious nervousness effectively doused her interest. Perhaps on another night his embarrassment would have fuelled her desire to tease and flirt, shamelessly arousing him until he worked up the courage to approach. This was not one of those evenings. Her need was specific. A man who’s very presence demanded her complete and utter surrender.

He broke eye contact, blushing and folding his hands across his lap before he glanced up once more with a shy smile only to find her head averted and her beautiful cunt hidden from his desperate gaze.

With her back presented to the disappointing man, her desperate gaze once more began roaming the dim depths of the small wine bar. Idly Cynthia drained the last mouthful of crisp white wine; the tart fluid couldn’t mask the bitter taste of desperation that coated her tongue and her pale green eyes darted restlessly from one man to the next, constantly searching as her fingers absently twirled the almost empty wine glass. Occasionally, her heart fluttered in anticipation only to be ruthlessly denied when the object of her hunt failed to live up to expectations.

“Another white for the lady, Steve, and be so kind as to bring it to my table please.”

“Yes, Mr Kellerman. A drink for you, sir?” the barman was almost quivering in his boots, and to Cynthia he resembled an overly excited puppy about to pee on the floor.

“A scotch, thank you Steve,” the deep voice rumbled softly from behind her left shoulder and Cynthia swivelled on her stool to face this, Mr Kellerman; she slowly assessed the man before her. Her fingers itched to play in the dark curls that brushed the collar of his jacket and to feel the scratch of his stubbled cheek against the soft skin of her neck. Long, lean legs made him appear taller than he actually was; in fact Cynthia suspected that if she was to stand toe to toe with this Mr Kellerman, she would quite easily meet his gaze eye to eye. Excitement sizzled under her skin, causing her nipples to harden slightly; she watched his eyes narrow as his attention was caught by her protruding nubs. One thick eyebrow arched slightly before he turned his back and walked back to the rear of the bar. Almost, as if in after thought he casually flung over his shoulder, “Are you coming?”

Cynthia’s sex clenched and heat swam through her system making her dizzy with lust; she slipped unsteadily to her feet letting her dress swirl about her ankles. Slowly she followed, her breath caught, then sped up as he stood by the booth and assisted her while she sat.

“Anything else I can get for you Mr Kellerman, sir?” Steve placed the drinks on the table and awkwardly shuffled his feet as he waited for an answer.

“No thank you, Steve. That’s all for now,” Mr Kellerman waited until the barman had made his way back to the bar before leaning over Cynthia’s shoulder; his breath caressed the sensitive skin of her neck as he took in her scent. He spoke softly as the tip of one finger traced the sharp jutting line of her collarbone, “I’ve been watching you, girl. You’re being very naughty, but you know that don’t you,” although his voice was barely above a whisper Cynthia heard the steel in the inquiry and knew that it was more a statement than a question. She turned her face towards him only to hear his breath draw in sharply, “Did I tell you to move, baby girl?” his hand dropped from her shoulder and his fingers twisted her protruding nipple slightly, with just enough pain to have Cynthia’s shoulder snapping back and her breath gasping in surprise.

“Now, let’s start that again, shall we? Please tell me exactly what is it you think you’re doing in my hotel?” while he spoke his fingers gently returned to her neck, hypnotically tracing small circles across the fragile bones.

“Come on baby girl, you weren’t so shy ten minutes ago when you flashed your bare cunt to the poor boy in the lobby, or tried to tempt the woman in the restrooms, and we won’t mention the fact that my poor barman is walking around with a perpetual hard on from looking at these for the last half an hour,” he chuckled softly as his fingertips flickered across the lace encrusted tips. “My, you have been a bad girl, haven’t you!”

Cynthia flushed at the bald way in which Mr Kellerman listed her actions. She kept her face averted, hoping to keep from him the dirty smile that flirted at the corners of her lips; unaware that the dimple flashing at the corner of her mouth gave her away.

“I have a need,” she whispered, the tortured words hanging in the silence.

Mr Kellerman’s fingers grasped her chin and turned her to face him, when he remained silent Cynthia allowed her eyes to meet his; what she saw burning in the hazel depths had her heart tripping in excitement: hunger and power.

“And you thought that by brazenly flashing your cunt you could assuage this need?” he continued to absently stroke the length of her slim neck, fingers encircling the slender column and rendering Cynthia a mass of quivering nerves.

“No. Yes…I don’t know? I just wanted to be found,” a narrow shoulder lifted in a bewildered shrug, a small sob escaped from deep within her chest when the rough pad of his thumb scooped up the single tear that traversed down her cheek.

Slipping his thumb into her mouth, he smiled encouragingly at her when her lips and tongue clasped and sucked, “Then perhaps you should consider yourself found.”

Mr Kellerman remained with his back to the room, effectively blocking the patron’s view of their table. The pressure and heat of his hands on her shoulders had Cynthia quivering, longing for his possession. When his hands dipped beneath the lace of her top and cupped her breasts in his palms, her breath stopped momentarily before resuming in jagged pants. Rough fingertips dragged back and forth over the rigid tips and a surprised gasp slipped from her parted lips when she heard the lace tear as he yanked on the neck line, with a twist of his fist he tore her top down to her navel and casually bared the pale globes of her breasts.

Cynthia’s cunt throbbed, creaming her thighs with need. “Clasp you’re your hands behind your back,” he commanded. With both of his hands occupied fondling her breasts Mr Kellerman thrust his swelling cock into her hands, rocking slowly back and forth as his fingers tugged harshly on her nipples, twisting and rolling them between thumb and forefinger; ripping little moans of pain and pleasure from the depths of her soul.

Leaving her breasts bared, the lace torn and fluttering, Mr Kellerman removed his hands and stepped away. “Leave your hands where they are and follow me,” he took several steps from the table his voice firming, “Now, girl.”

Heat seared her skin as she flushed from the tips of her abused breasts to her hair line; she knew that when she stood and turned her breasts would be displayed to all and sundry. Conflicted emotions warred within her chest; the desire to obey, and shame that she obtained such pleasure at the very idea tore at her.

She heard his returning footfalls and felt the puff of his breath against her neck as he sighed, “Have you looked in a mirror, baby girl? You’re beautiful, you have no need for this…” his fingers ran once more to her nipple, rolling the tip softly between his thumb and forefinger “For this charade.”

Cynthia’s spine strengthened, her shoulders straightened in resolve as she gracefully rose to her full height, she felt the huff of his laugh on her neck as he leant in to nip the skin behind her ear with his teeth, “Have it your way, girl,” and with that he walked briskly away, his footsteps echoing on the floorboards.

In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say,’ Cynthia thought, and with that spun on her heel, she thrust her breasts proudly, and with her chin tipped arrogantly she scanned the room. She met the slack jawed, shocked stares of the men at the bar with a sly smile and slowly stalked to where Mr Kellerman waited at his office door, an indulgent curve to his lower lip.

He shook his head, and a small smile flickered briefly before his hand connected with her arse in a stinging slap, “Stop showing off.”

He grasped her hair in his fist and tilted her pretty face towards him. His eyes devoured her bared breasts before his full lips locked hungrily on her smirking mouth. Sensations buffeted Cynthia, the feel of his warm, soft lips moving on hers, the harsh scrape of his stubbled jaw against her cheek and the sting of her hair dragging as he turned his fist, pulling the honeyed lengths tightly against her scalp. Her lips parted in a pained gasp, and taking advantage he plunged his tongue into the heated depths. Their tongues duelled fiercely until she sagged limply against him, her breasts crushed against the hard planes of his chest. She brushed her nipples slowly back and forth against the silk of his shirt, moaning in ecstasy as he bit her kiss swollen lip and sucked it into the heated cavern of his mouth.

“Drop to your knees, girl.”

Cynthia glanced at the open door and then up into the stern gaze of the man who’d just kissed her senseless. With a soft sigh she sunk to her knees, her hands still clasped firmly behind her back.

His voice was gruff and his eyes hard as he murmured, “Unbuckle my belt.”

Cynthia’s eyes flickered to the bar; she had an audience of two. Steve, the barman, stood with his eyes wide and mouth slack, the patron on the other hand had a filthy grin plastered on his leering face and a large hand fondled the hard on tenting his slacks.

“Look at me, my girl,” Cynthia’s wild stare was caught and held by the dark gaze of the man before her, “I told you to unbuckle my belt,” he sighed softly and trailed the tip of a finger over her lower lip slowly, “So beautiful.”

The softness that crept into his tone was Cynthia’s undoing. She ignored the watching men and let her slim fingers swiftly work on his belt. A muttered, “Fuck yeah,” drifted across from the bar, but Cynthia ignored the temptation to glance in their direction, instead she kept her eyes firmly on her task.

“Undo the button.”

Cynthia felt her pussy weep, and clenched her thighs tightly in an effort to relieve some of the burning need erupting between her thighs.

A slightly husky, “Zip,” followed.

The fist in her hair tightened as she did as she was instructed; pressure on the back of her head had her moving closer to the hard ridge hidden by the tightly stretched material across Mr Kellerman’s groin. Taking a deep breath, Cynthia caught the scent of male; the fecund, primal aroma filled her nostrils, swirling through her system like a drug. She was his now; body and soul.

Completely lost in the moment, Cynthia sat motionless, awaiting his next command.

“I want you to take me into your mouth, girl,” his ragged voice surged through her system. Her sex; hot and swollen throbbed uncontrollably, and dripped copious amounts of her nectar between her thighs. Cynthia wiggled in desperation as she pealed his slacks apart. The angry, scarlet head of his cock rose swollen and leaking above his boxer shorts. Lust fogged Cynthia’s brain and she barely registered the click of the office door closing as she leant forward, slipped his cock free and lovingly dragged her tongue from base to head before clasping her lips tightly over the engorged head and plunging her mouth down the pulsating shaft.

“Good girl,” came the hissing moan. Cynthia purred and wiggled in pleasure, the fist in her hair gentled and became a soft caress as her mouth continued to make love to the man towering above her. Soft, gentle sucks followed by her tongue swirling frantically around the head, dipping into the slit and tasting the slick, salty fluid; the taste and aroma flooding her with a desire to please.

Kellerman’s hard cock surged down the back of Cynthia’s throat, the suddenness of the action caused her to gag slightly, but she recovered and actively swallowed to take him deep, massaging him with her tongue as he surged repeatedly into her mouth. His deep groans of pleasure had her hips rocking, searching for something, anything, to fill the emptiness within.

Saliva dripped from her chin as Mr Kellerman removed his thick shaft, Cynthia mewed softly, her mouth open and hungry as she searched in vain to fill the void. His cocky chuckle only made her more desperate to pleasure him and she ran her tongue over the bobbing erection teasingly waving in front of her mouth.

“So eager to please, baby girl,” the gentle smile took out any sting the words may have caused and Cynthia smiled happily up at Mr Kellerman.

“It seems silly to ask now,” Cynthia smiled, “Seeing as I’ve already tasted you so intimately, but what should I call you? It seems wrong to call you Mr Kellerman, I’m C...” Cynthia’s smug smile fell slightly as Mr Kellerman’s curt voice interrupted.

“I don’t need to know your name, girl, and if Mr Kellerman doesn’t suit, please feel free to call me Sir,” his handsome face remained impassive as his dark eyes keenly watched her reaction to his words.

Cynthia’s cunt clenched and dark lust swirled deep in the pit of her belly, the word Sir ricocheted around her skull, teasing and haunting her with the possibilities. She felt the slumbering animal shift and stir; waking and stretching under her skin. Lust and Sin drove her now. She moaned softly, arching and stretching as she thrust her breast forward, grazing the aching buds against his pulsating cock. This was what she craved, letting go and allowing her inner needs free reign.

“Sir,” she whispered on a drawn out sigh. She poured all her desire and cravings into that one word and watched in delight as the object of her need shuddered, his cock thickening and jumping. She swore she could see his heartbeat accelerate in every bounce of his rock hard cock.

With a harsh growl and a whispered, “Fuck,” Cynthia watched as her lover struggled for control. Power surged and she felt so complete that she almost sobbed in relief, He wanted her!

“Put your hands in front of you and lay your head on the ground, that’s it, close your eyes. Now, raise your arse. Ahh, that’s my beautiful girl,” Mr Kellerman whispered his instructions as he walked around Cynthia’s prone form, she shuddered in pleasure as his fingertips ran the length of her spine causing flashes of need to fire off in every direction. He caressed her upraised hip, dragging the black silk of her skirt aside to expose the tender flesh of her cunt. Cynthia’s entire body was wracked with need, shaking uncontrollably as she waited, nerves stretched almost beyond endurance for the next stage of their erotic dance. She felt exposed as the cool air fanned across the hot, wet folds of her sex and she twitched incessantly, wanting nothing more than to feel her mate mounting her, covering her with his body and the driving force of his hard cock spearing deep into her pussy.

“So beautiful, my girl; all those curves displayed just for my pleasure. What a lucky find you are.”

Even with her eyes closed, Cynthia could hear the pleasure in Sir’s tone. He was so obviously pleased with her that it came as a terribly rude shock when his hand connected with her pale rump. A harsh swipe that left her skin smarting and to her dismay her pussy clenching; causing her cream to rush down her thigh.

She let out a shocked squawk that embarrassed her and she vowed silently to endure the next with more dignity. Cynthia tensed as she sensed his stalking movements behind her, waiting for the silent fall of his hand, ready for the sting of his palm. A screech of delight slipped from her as she felt the wet slither of his tongue deep into her folds, her arched spine and coiled muscles resembled those of a hunting wildcat as she thrust against his face, rocking her cunt frantically as the hours of pent up need rushed through her system, firing all her nerves at once.

“Sir, please…” sobbed Cynthia into the hardwood floor, she rocked her hips trying to capture Mr Kellerman’s teasing fingers and drive them deep into her pulsating slit which felt frustratingly empty and in desperate need of being filled. Mr Kellerman lovingly traced every fold and curve of her pussy with his tongue, patiently ignoring her increasingly frantic thrusts.

Another stinging swat landed, but this time across the tender folds of her pussy. “Did I say you could speak, girl?”

Cynthia hissed at the pain that unfurled into pleasure and arched her back further, shifted her thighs wider; she knew what Sir would now be gazing upon. Her flushed slit, spread wide, pulsating with every twist of lust that surged through her body. She felt no shame; this was where she belonged.

A whispered, “Holy fuck, baby,” had Cynthia smiling into the hard wood floor, although it was a short lived moment of power.

Kellerman buried three fingers deep into her clenching cunt, thrusting deep and hard. “I’m going to have you begging, girl. Begging for your release. Begging for my cock, and begging to be owned. You’ll regret teasing me.”

Cynthia felt a moment of fear. Had she pushed this man too far? The panic eased as she felt the gentle brush of his thumb against her clit, his obvious care of her pleasure reassured her.

“Yes, Sirrr,” the sir was a throbbing purr of pleasure. Her sex clenched tightly around his thrusting fingers and gushed, creating an obscene sucking sound with his every thrust and retreat. Cynthia hummed, completely content with the way her evening was unfolding.

“Enjoying yourself, girl?” the quiet whisper lulled Cynthia into relaxing and she let her hand slither between her thighs to massage her clit, she continued to hum her pleasure and murmured an unintelligible response.

Cynthia’s eyes sprung wide in shock.

“Did I tell you to touch yourself, well did I?” Mr Kellerman's voice cut like glass, but what made Cynthia shiver in anticipation was the way in which he gripped her hair; a thick hand full that he slowly knotted around his fist. With deliberate movements he stood, dragging her to kneel at his side. His rampant cock wove a bobbing pattern in front of Cynthia’s face and she licked her lips at the thought of engulfing the delicious length in the heat of her mouth and submitting to his pleasure.

Her lover ran the head of his cock across her parted lips and over the soft skin of her cheeks, never quite letting her take the swollen length between her lips, her frustration grew and she became more frantic with every passing moment.

Mr Kellerman grew bored with the teasing and exerted pressure on Cynthia’s scalp with a quick tug on her hair. She staggered slightly and as she rose to her feet the hem of her dress caught around her heels. Impatiently, Mr Kellerman rent the material from her hips, leaving her standing in heels, stockings and torn lace. While clearing the top of his desk with a single swipe of his forearm he growled “Remove your top,” Cynthia hastened to obey and as soon as she let the ruined top fall to the floor, Kellerman shoved her face down over the polished surface. “Seems someone needs to learn to listen.”

Kellerman ran a fingertip down the tense curve of her spine to tease the dimples at the base of her hips. He paddled her cheeks with the flat of his hand, laughing softly at her quickly indrawn breaths; when she moaned and arched her spine he proceeded to move the blows lower until his fingers landed with stinging slaps to the drenched folds of her pussy. He took to alternating teasing little flicks on her clit and then spanking softly only to once again drift back to her clit until she was sobbing in need.

“Sir, please. Please sir, oh fuck, fuck, I need you hard, deep, please I’ll listen, I promise, I promise,” Cynthia twisted restlessly, sobbing and grinding herself up to meet the exquisite connection of his hand. “I’ll be a good, please Mr Kellerman, Sir, sir oh please, no more. I need to cum, I need your cock, let me, please?”

A gut clenching groan tore from her throat as Mr Kellerman slid the engorged head of his cock through the swollen petals of her sex, sliding his full length slowly into her clenching tunnel until his balls rested against her upturned cunt, slapping softly against her clit and wringing another sharply indrawn breath. With his fists clenched around her hip bones he shunted her back and forth along his length, watching the tight muscles of her sex milk his shaft. As he drove repeatedly into her sopping depths he grunted into her ear, “Don’t fucking cum girl before I tell you to, you won’t like the consequences. You’re mine to do with as I please. Just you remember that.”

“Yes. Yes Sir, I promise,” Cynthia experienced a rush of pleasure at his words.

Mr Kellerman held back a moan as he watched her tight little star twitch and couldn’t resist painting his thumb with her secretions and slowly entering into her puckered depths with the next thrust of his hips. She lost control, hips thrusting, back arched and a litany of fucks poured from her sweet lips.

“Fuck that’s it Sir, fuck me! Yours, I’m yours. Harder, more, fuck, oh fuck yes,” she growled in pleasure. Her face screwed into frantic lines as she lost control and writhed desperately on his sex. Her body twitched and shuddered with his every thrust, howls of delight erupted with every slap of meeting flesh.

Cynthia’s skin glowed in the harsh glare of the office lights, sweat pooled at the base of her spine and Kellerman’s fingers lost their grip on the slick bones of her hips, but she continued to impale herself back and forth in a frenzy of need.

“Sir. Mr Kellerman, please. I need you to cum,” she panted. “I want to feel your seed fill my womb. Sir I’m begging you, let me please you,” Cynthia’s flushed face peered over her shoulder, exquisite need etched into the depths of her hungry eyes.

“Not yet,” Mr Kellerman chuckled. “You’re so eager to take charge, girl. Must I teach you patience as well?” his right eyebrow raised with a hint of menace and his hand rubbed small circles over the heated skin of her well spanked arse as a reminder to the recent lesson she had endured.

Shuddering, Cynthia shook her head emphatically, “No sir.”

Cupping the curve of her chin in his hand, Kellerman drove deep into her cunt and he watched as her eyes became unfocused, and her lips puckered into a silent mew. As he removed his cock, her cunt twitched, but her disappointed moan quickly altered to become a squeal as he thrust his tongue along her slit, teeth nibbling and biting as he worked his way to her clit. He looked up at her, the rise of her arse and the curve of her spine, her head twisted awkwardly as she tried to watch him over one shoulder, animal lust burning in her eyes. Flipping her onto her back he once more dove between her thighs, his tongue flicking and tasting as his fingers worked her flesh. Her sweat slicked hair hung messily over her shoulders and her wild eyes watched his every move, she whimpered with every swipe of his tongue.

“Such a good girl, I want you to come now, do you think you can?” he smirked at that and looked up knowingly from between her thighs, his mouth and chin covered in her juices.

“How many times does Sir wish?” Cynthia cheekily smiled, her fingers crossing that he wouldn’t take offence at her slightly irreverent comment.

“Just the once will do,” Mr Kellerman smiled softly as he watched cream seep from between her split folds.

Growling he dove between her thighs once more, his lips wrapped around her sex, sucking softly and rolling her clit between his teeth, tongue flicking softly and curling around the swollen pearl.

Cynthia lost control, her hips bucked, back arched and mouth parted on a silent wail. Her entire body tensed before she erupted into a thrashing wild cat. Her hands gripped Mr Kellerman’s hair, grinding his mouth to her sex, hips thrust upward a final time and as her orgasm ripped through her and she yowled her release.

Mr Kellerman wrapped his arms around the thrashing bundle in his arms and groaned out his lust as she came apart around him, he almost spilled his seed onto the floor when she orgasmed and flooded his face and chest with her gushing release.

Standing he felt pride in what he had accomplished, this woman who’d managed to turn every man in his bar into a quivering mess now lay naked, spread and completely satisfied before him. Her legs hung wide, her cunt continued to twitch before him and it took all his control not to thrust his aching cock into her depths and finally mark her as his.

Leaning forward Kellerman nibbled her nipples before laving his tongue over the distended nubs. He made his way with small kisses to her neck and by the time his tongue dove into the shell of her ear her hips were once more grinding upwards, searching for his shaft. When he eventually bit the curve of her neck she was a mess, sobbing and begging for him to fuck her, her voice ragged and hoarse from the constant pleading.

Cynthia arched her head to the side, offering the soft skin of her neck to his mouth and whispered over and over, “Please, please, fuck me. Sir I’m begging please. You win. Please,” the final please ended on a sob as he drove his cock deep, one hard thrust that shunted Cynthia across the desk.

Wrapping her long legs around his narrow hips, Cynthia met him thrust for thrust, her sex clenched repeatedly, enveloping him in her desperate heat.

With a frustrated cry Kellerman bit Cynthia’s shoulder, wrapped his hand firmly around her throat and growled into her neck, “Cum, damn you. Fucking cum with me, Cynthia. You’re mine girl.”

A keening cry of release, passion and fulfilment tore from deep with Cynthia’s chest, she wrapped her arms and legs around the thrusting body above her and held tight. Silent tears coursed down the sides of her face and into the tousled mane of hair as her lover slowly ceased to shudder. With a final release Peter emptied the last of his seed deep within Cynthia’s womb.

Tender fingers played with her hair and as Peter stroked her cheek he discovered the wet track left by her tears.

“Cyn, baby, are you cryin? Oh fuck did I hurt you honey? I knew this was a bad idea. I’m not cut out for this punishment thing,” Peter reared back, his frantic hands searching his wife for signs that he had gone overboard. His shaking fingers traced the bite marks on her neck and breasts and he whispered repeatedly, “Oh baby, don’t cry. Cyn, sweetheart? Please talk to me baby.”

When she remained silent he kissed her prone body, working his way over the dips and valleys, sighing unhappily when he came to the red marks on the pale globes of her bottom. He flicked his tongue over the heated flesh and then worked back to her gaping pussy. He worriedly glanced up at Cynthia but the tears still trekked slowly from the corner of her closed eyes into her hairline. Wanting to show her how much he loved her Peter ran his tongue along her sex, the aroma of their joining made his cock twitch and swell slightly. He buried his tongue deep into her folds and lapped softly along her slit and up to her clit, when she groaned and pulled her thighs back to her chest Peter grunted in pleasure and his cock began to swell to full size. Her cunt spread wide and he buried deeply, surrounding himself in their combined taste and smell. He swirled his tongue in her depths, rocking his tongue up and over her clit until she was whimpering and whispering his name.

“Peter, oh fuck baby, oh god I’m going to cum. Please honey, I need you inside me, kiss me. I want the taste of us on my tongue. Please, fuck! Are you going to make me beg?” her soft voice held a touch of humour and Peter rose from between her thighs and sunk himself deep, his tongue dipping into Cynthia’s kiss, thrusting in time with the movement of his hips.

He kept the movements slow and gentle as he whispered against her mouth, “Cyn, Baby, you had me worried. Are you OK? I thought this was what you wanted. You told me you craved the thought of being mastered.”

Cynthia sighed out her pleasure, her legs pulling at Peter’s hips and locking his shaft deep within her twitching slit. She ran her tongue deep into her husband’s mouth, tasting their desire as she duelled lovingly with his tongue. “I’m crying because it was wonderful, Peter. I couldn’t have asked for more. You made me feel desirable, and wanted. I felt like a slut, but sweetheart, it was powerful. To give myself to you like that, to relinquish control and allow you and myself free reign to just be... to let it take us where it willed, well… I’ve never experienced such lust. My cunt was on fire and you made me burn, Peter.”

“Jesus Cyn, you had me worried. Don’t every cry like that again OK, you damn well nearly broke my heart,” Peter buried his head in his wife’s neck and rocked his cock slowly with in her, when she purred softly and cupped the curve of his arse his cock jumped within her slick channel.

Grabbing a fist full of hair she pulled his head back so that they were eye to eye, her face was serious and a flicker of lust lit her blue eyes, “I love you Peter, and trust me, you darn well rocked my world. I owe you baby. Now how about you finish loving me and then we’ll discuss that little fantasy you were talking about last week.”

Peter’s eyes popped wide, “You mean the one that involves you and Sally? Fuck that girl drives me crazy. You’d really let me watch the two of you together? ”

Cynthia smiled naughtily.

“You know it cruel to tease a man like that!”

“Who said I was teasing?” Cynthia whispered, a faint blush staining her cheekbones.

Peter drove his cock deep and bit the rise of Cynthia’s breast, “We’ll talk about this later, much later girl,” he chuckled when his wife’s cunt clenched and her breath sighed against his neck.

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