Becky comes face to face with his cock

Becky's knees hit the sand and in that moment everything seemed to fall into such simple clarity and focus. The world around her faded and all that remained was the heat in her body and the sight of Harlan's cock jutting up toward her face. Becky leaned slowly forward as though hypnotized and each gradual inch she drifted closer to the object of her enthrallment drove the ache in her body higher and higher still. She was a bow being drawn, a string so taut with need that it threatened to snap. When she finally placed her pale lips against the side of his shaft, letting the tip of it brush precum along the underside of her nose it was like injecting another dose of intoxication straight into her veins. Becky's clear green eyes dilated as she drew in a breath and her body shuddered placing myriad kisses against his shaft through her sheer inability to hold her body still.

When Becky shifted upward, raising and angling her head to take him in her mouth, a firm hand on the back of her head stopped her. Harlan had taken a fistful of her pale blonde hair in his hand, but he clearly knew what he was doing. He grabbed tight, but close, right next to her skull so that the iron of his control was absolute, but painless. Like snapping out of a trance, Becky froze her slender body taut and strained once more.

In that silent moment, Becky's eyes flickered over to the nearby lounge chair where Skye and her partner had progressed well past making out. Now he lay back in full recline, his arms crossed behind his head like a king while Skye bounced her plump form on his cock. Her thighs tenses as her breasts bounced wildly and the look on her face was a bizarre mixture of excitement, helpless need, and utter humiliation. The generally timid girl looked completely out of control, like her mind was having difficulty keeping up with the whorish urges of her body. Ever one step behind, she could do nothing but observe herself, watch the way that she impaled her cunt on a stranger's long dark cock over and over again and by the time her conscious mind had caught up enough to try and stop herself, the needy urges of her whore body had already moved on to another form of ecstatic self-debasement.

Still, it did look fun.

Becky watched with as much rapt attention as her blurred mind could manage as the long black cock disappeared into Skye's pussy again and again, stretching the pale girl's light pink flesh to accommodate his considerable length and girth. He was muttering quiet words of encouragement, degradation, or command (Becky couldn't tell which) while Skye was trying and steadily failing to stop herself from gasping out a series of desperate, pleading, melodic moans.

The dynamic was obvious: he was the lord and she his servant, subordinated to his pleasure by her own.

Becky swallowed as an eerie feeling of introspective foresight tried and failed to find purchase in her mind.

"You could learn from her example," Harlan said, his voice a low growl that made Becky's body shiver involuntarily. "But I think I like you better the way you are. A whole glass of whore's juice down and you've still got the tongue-tied school girl act down to a t. Makes me think it's real. Makes me really want to watch it break."

When he started to pull her hair upward, Becky had no choice but to follow his unspoken command. He was so much bigger than her that even if her mind wasn't overwhelmingly eager to obey, he might have simply lifted her off the ground.

Again his eyes met her own and again Becky felt herself frozen in place, enchanted and owned.

"Strip, cunt," he said. "I want to see what I am about to ruin."