Eat Out Martina's Pussy

The flogger’s synthetic taste saturated his mouth in his muffled attempts answering Martina, still she acknowledged his response. He always envisioned himself in control when fantasising about his supervisor. Now he played prey in her predatory game. Martina's fingers drifted down his chest before holding his penis, his fine shivers culminating in his restrained body jolting upwards then collapsing onto the bed. She gently tugged his hardening shaft, her fixed attention observing Alasdair's embarrassment.

His proud erection twitched in her palm, flicking pre-ejaculate on her hands and his stomach. His skin simmered from Martina's sexual play, his heavy panting grating the room. Alasdair's balls grew heavier, the size of ripened limes, looking larger on his substantial frame. A vast erotic frenzy filled him; so regular that if she continued, he would quickly cum. He moaned, bucking his hips into her grip; soon flushing when nearing climax. Then she stopped.

A raw, muffled grunt escaped Alasdair, though Martina ignored his scowl as she stood from the bed. Upon kicking off her heels, she turned her ass towards him, unhooking her garter straps before bending to roll both her nylon stockings down her opulent, golden-brown legs. Martina then peeled each undergarment from her ankles, casting them to Alasdair, who avoided them with his wagging head. At last, she pulled her panties, their descent from her folds igniting a flame within the man. He lusted after her thick hips that curved into her taut, round bottom and her puckering cunt lips, soaking. Swollen.

She wrapped her underwear around Alasdair's erection before climbing atop him. Her pussy teased his prick; not allowing him passage. He grumbled, his hard-on leaking more. Removing his gag, she subtly smirked at his exasperated gasps.

"Don't tell me you lack stamina, little Alis."

He flinched, acknowledging the truth in her remarks. He barely lasted a minute when wanking.

"If you're quick on the draw, I doubt you made women cum."

She arched her body, waving her mound before Alasdair’s face like a puppy's treat.

"Waiting little Alis. I will apologise if you make me cum."

He glared, curving his head high as she mounted her black pussy. He licked at her moist lips pulsing against his skin, beaming once tasting her scent. His cock jerked thrice, to which Martina laughed, twirling her panties around his dick.

"Pitiful. I had hoped you were a grower, but…oh…Ah!"

He picked up speed, nipping at her profuse mons and caressing his tongue around her clit. A small gasp evaded her, her frame rocking back and forth while Alasdair pleasured her moistening slit. After soothing side-to-side and up-and-down, he determined his boss enjoyed his circular tongue strokes. She moaned, her skin radiating as much heat as his own. Martina gripped the broad forearms of her subordinate, crying loudly while he maintained firm pressure and motility at her cunt.

"Oh no…I'm…I'm…"

She cried aloud; her sounds unintelligible, before trembling and sinking onto the bed. He smirked, enjoying her convulsive puffs. They rapidly faded into silence before she arose, giving him an uncertain expression.

"What's it going to be," the top dog spoke, his voice raspy; deep. Martina peered down, turning away upon viewing his stiff prick.

"I'm ready."

"But…But…"

"No buts, Martina. I matched your game. Get on your knees."

She studied at him with tight eyes.

"How about a handjob?"

Alasdair disregarded her with silence, her arrogance failing her. She should suck his cock as punishment for her aggressive haughtiness. Who cares about her frustration? But what was he saying? She could keep him shackled because of his apathy. Or just because. Her trickery got him here. Her bitterness could be another manipulative ploy.

His attention returned upon feeling her fists on his large quads. She nodded, flinging her panties on the ground before grasping his hard shaft. Alasdair bit his lips, watching as she lowered her own towards his pulsing erection.