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Billionaires in Paris Cynthia Dane 2022/8/3 13:56:27

Every inch of his cock is a drug to my senses. The strange sensation of a man trapped between rigidity and softening. The taste of his seed running down his shaft. The tickles of his hair against my lips. This infuriating scent that gets me so damn aroused. Get hard again, damn it! I have every intention of impaling myself on this thing as soon as it’s ready. Except I know Ian’s physiology pretty well by now. I’ll be lucky if he’s ready in ten minutes.

To my surprise, he is.

I pull up his blindfold for us to share a moment. His eyes are fogged over, but he’s still with me. “How do you feel? Ready for round two?”

He caresses my hairline. On any normal night, I would lean into his hand, but tonight I must remain firm.

“Kiss me and taste your cum on my lips.”

I taste myself on him too, you know.

That’s the best part. How, no matter what roles we play or who is calling the shots and carrying the crops, in the end we are one. The feelings become the same. I know, because even though Ian is beneath me as I climb on top of him and ease my body onto his cock, all I can think about is going to that place where nothing matters or exists anymore. Nobody but us, anyway.

In the end, that’s how I’ve known we are truly meant to be together. No other man has ever made me feel so connected to him, whether I’m Top or bottom.

I pull my shirt over my head. The only piece of clothing still between us is my bra, but I don’t think Ian minds. His mouth drops open as I ride his cock, my hands pulling his above his head. Otherwise he’ll try to grab me, and I don’t need his help tonight.

Myself. That’s the only person I need up here. The bed creaks and groans, but so do I. Groan, that is. My body has been aching for his cock, and now here it is, inside of me, stroking my inner walls and brushing against my core. Sometimes I sit still and grind against him, the head of his cock teasing my G-spot as it comes so close to that ultimate pleasure. Other times I ride as hard as I can, sweat pouring down my body, soaking my bra, and making our bodies so slick that I have no choice but to dig my fingers into his flesh. He’s sweaty too. It glistens with the seed I left there earlier. We all know what I did to his back.

Funny thing about multiple orgasms. (Maybe other women can identify?) The first one sometimes takes some work. Then the second one smacks you in the face so quickly that you get whiplash. The third will either come quickly or take its damn time. By the fourth one, your body is so finely tuned that you can practically control it. Want to come again? Come again! Want to hold off? Hold off! Right now, I’m holding off on a fourth orgasm. I want this one to be so damn good that I won’t be able to get a fifth.

At the same time, I want to claim what’s rightfully mine.

“I want you.” I pant between breaths, but my words come out fine. Ian’s hands flex in need of holding me. No. Not yet. “Are you going to give yourself to me?”

My body stills so I can hear him. Grind, grind, grind. His cock slips in and out of me because I’m so wet. Not all the way out, but enough to make me moan when it slips all the way back in. Fuck, I want him lodged in there. If I come, it’s going to be with every muscle inside of me clamped down on the long length of his cock.

“Yes.” His voice is clearer than I anticipated. “Whenever you want it.”

He’s going to come on command? While inside me? Now, I won’t pretend I know what it feels like for a man to have his cock buried deep in a woman, but I’m going to guess it’s way more intense than having her hand jack it off. Then again, this is his second orgasm. Ian usually takes a while to build up to it… is he really prepared to promise me that level of obedience?

I lean back, hands grabbing his spread legs. The good man keeps his hands above his head. I’m a bit disappointed, only because this crazy good angle has his cock hitting me right in the G-spot. Oh fuck does it feel awesome! Doesn’t look too bad either. I’m gazing down at my body, and his, in awe of a kinky view. I bet he appreciates the sight of his thick cock coming in and out of me almost as much as I do!

“I’m going to come.” If I don’t announce it, I’ll catch myself by too much surprise. “So are you.”

I say this, thinking I’m some hotshot Domme who can command her man to come whenever she damn well pleases. Yet when I look at him, I think of so many things that have nothing to do with me being in control.

Those men I had one-night stands with? I felt their lust, their desire, their needs. I didn’t feel their love. I didn’t feel any personal worship. I was their queen, but only for a night. As soon as they woke up, they went off to find another queen. Maybe we met again, but I wasn’t their only one.