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For the perverted Ted, listening to Sam's obscene story with complete sincerity and passion made this day even better. With this video, he had just destroyed the president's impeccable reputation and, at the same time, proclaimed dominance over her.

"Interesting. Do you really want me to impregnate you, bitch?" he asked, excited by the answer.

With one hand, Sam began to touch her pussy while caressing her belly with the other.

"Mmm... I didn't doubt it for a second, feeling your seed fertilize my eggs, watching my belly grow day after day, and raising those children who will carry your blood... Ooh, Master, besides, there's no more ideal punishment than that," she said, lust overflowing in her words.

The contrast couldn't have been greater. Yesterday, he didn't want to see it, not even in a painting, but today, he was yearning to have her children. Just imagining Sam all smiles with her belly full of his offspring made him even harder.

She was absolutely right. The girl who had hated him the most on the planet, being the mother of his children, was the cherry on top of that cake called ****. Even so, that still wasn't his priority; first, he had to reclaim her pussy once and for all.

“I must admire your logic, babe, but remember very well who's in charge. First and foremost, it's time for your slutty cunt to meet its rightful owner.”

A surge of excitement coursed through Samantha Silva. Her heart pounded like a hammer, her pussy spurted so much juice that it ran down her legs, and her clitoris was as hard as her nipples.

She felt as though she was going to receive the gift her body had longed for; only she didn't know it was coming: she would finally be used like a woman by her man.

“You don't know how happy I am to hear that. How do you want to fuck me?” she asked, posing before him. “No matter what dark fantasy you have for me, I'll gladly accept it.”

“Wow.”

Like a kid in a candy store, Ted thought about every sexual fantasy his perverted mind had ever created. There were so many things he wanted to do to Sam that it was hard to choose just one for his first time with her. He was still recording the moment, so he thought it would be twice as erotic to fuck her live, too.

While his mind was racing to make a choice, he placed his phone on a shelf, perfectly pointing at Sam's large bed. He didn't want the viewers to miss any detail of what was about to happen.

The hostess, seeing that, raised an eyebrow.

“I understand. You want everyone to see you make me yours… mmm… you couldn't be more depraved,” Sam said, catching on to her intentions.

“Why not show the exact moment of your fall? Hehehe… it'll surely get a lot more likes.”

Without any direction, Sam sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the camera and crossing his legs.

“You all heard it, this hunk here, Ted Thompson, who just turned into a real Adonyx… Sniff… oh yes, the place reeks of that exquisite aroma that's driven me crazy, and in moments he'll claim this succulent body as his own… What are you waiting for, Ted?” she explained, before beginning to beckon him with a finger.

The ball was in Ted's court; the girl of his fantasies was inviting him to be recorded live. As her master, he had to assume his role firmly, choosing what to do to her.

Once again, his mind worked at a thousand miles an hour to find the best option, and then the obese protagonist was suddenly struck by a lightbulb. He went to the phone and paused it to better prepare things, then spoke to his… well, let's call her assistant.

“Get ready, babe, this is what we'll do… when I leave the room, you're going to behave like the same smug, proud Samantha you always did. When you come back, you'll show hostility toward me… of course, it'll be fake, and when it's your turn, you'll resist at first, only to then thirst for my charms.”

“Hehe… I see, you want to **** that boring old Samantha, the one who despised you so much… you masochistic pervert,” Sam said without complaint.

The fat man went to the door, but before leaving, he turned around.

“Oh, and don't forget to turn the video back on when I leave.”

“Whatever you say, my beloved fat man.”