She lowers her panties slowly

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

Her hands moved on their own, thumbs slipping under the waistband of her panties. The elastic clung to the swell of her hips, dampened by heat and friction, stretched across the soft fullness between her thighs. Her breath caught as she began to pull them down—slowly. Obediently.

The cotton peeled from her skin inch by inch. First the curve of her hips, then the gentle softness of her lower belly. Then lower, revealing the plush, barely-shaven mound already flushed pink, the cleft between her legs glistening with unmistakable arousal.

She kept going.

The panties slid past her thighs, down over her knees, catching briefly at her calves before she stepped out of them entirely. The cool air licked up between her legs. She didn’t close them. She didn’t try to hide.

She straightened, fully nude now, standing exposed in the center of his pristine living room—arms at her sides, nipples stiff and flushed, milk swelling heavy in her breasts, her cunt slick and open, lips parted and twitching with every beat of her heart.

His eyes roamed. Slowly. Possessively.

“You don’t even realize how much of a mess you are,” he said.

She flinched. Not from the words, but from the way her body responded to them. Her inner thighs clenched together and came away wet.

He stepped forward at last.

Close. Taller than her. Broader. He reached out and hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up.

“If you'd been paying attention,” he murmured, “you wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t have made such a stupid, dangerous mistake. But now I have to discipline you.”

Her mouth fell open, but no sound came. Her legs shook.

“And you’re going to thank me for it.”

He stepped behind her.

His hand landed on her ass—smack—sharp, sudden, loud.

She yelped, legs jerking together, body jolting forward a step. But he was right there, gripping her by the waist, adjusting her stance, nudging her back into position with cool authority.

Smack. Another. And another. Each harder than the last.

Her ass stung, the soft flesh warming fast under his palm. Her breasts bounced with each impact, milk threatening to spill over with each jolt. Her cunt throbbed—humiliatingly wet, every strike against her ass making her clench tighter.

He leaned close.

“Get on the couch,” he said. “Kneel. And don’t you dare touch yourself.”

She moved, dazed, obeying.

She climbed up, legs spread wide, ass high, arms braced on the couch back. The leather was cool against her knees. Her pussy hung open between her thighs, slick dripping freely now. Her back arched without thought.

He came behind her.

And then—one long, slow thrust.

His cock slid into her like he’d already owned her, inch by inch, thick and hot and relentless. She sobbed into the cushions as he bottomed out, her walls clenching hard around him.

He didn’t thrust yet.

Just stayed there.

Deep.

Full.

“You're not allowed to come,” he whispered, grinding his hips into hers, teasing her clit with his base. “Not until I say.”