To Disparage Martina's Body

"No!" answered Alasdair, his resolve returning. "I will not worship you!"

No longer will he entertain his inner debaucheries. Virtual or not, the Latitude cN surpassed simple fetish pornography. It played game with his principal diffidence, punting his dominance against his lewd submission. He must remember emasculation as one fleeting desire which risked his public humiliation before friends, family, and his career.

His anger boiled, remembering how Martina uttered sardonic, cutting remarks about his size. Now she expected worship of her body. From him! His unbidden arousal mired his self-control. Worse yet, it continued growing, making him prey in her game.

Martina shook her head; before she uttered a sigh while standing from the bed.

"You're not worthy of worship!" Alasdair spat, his irritation tipping over. "You wish to insult my dick because you fancy big cocks, yet your body looks like a boy's!"

The youthful woman's eyes hardened, seeping into her facial expression.

"Your tits are small. You lack curves. You are hardly thick. You are far from what men expect! Make fun of my cock all you want; it does the job! And does so well!"

Martina marched her way towards him, her clanking heels loud within the room despite the carpeted floor. With no chance to spare, her fist knocked crossways against Alasdair's face. But instead of painful exclaims, he barked harsh laughter.

"So, you can give it, but not take it? What kind of woman are you, Essex?"

She punched once more, but again was met with his cruel mirth.

"Your fists are nothing Essex."

He grabbed them both, rising off the bed. She wriggled in his grasp.

"Let me go!"

"It's time for you to apologise."

"What?!"

He sniggered, pressing his hard-on into her. Martina winced, shifting away, nevertheless the heavily built top dog maintained his attention on her.

"Don't play dumb with me. I took a great deal of your smart-arse talk about my cock. You need to apologise and end this game. I'm done."

For several moments she stared into his eyes, searching for a response. Her lips curled upon mental elucidation.

"But I'm not."

Her foot shot upwards, the tip of her soles striking Alasdair's large sac. He roared, falling back onto the bed whilst dropping Martina, who hit the floor with a heavy thump. He cupped his balls, spinning onto his stomach so the comforter stifled his lengthy string of cusses. Upon hearing ruffling aside him, Alasdair stretched out his hands, only to find Martina's soft grip dragging them upwards.

CLICK!

One hand restrained. She rolled over his back, before restricting the next. His muffled roars did not faze her as she locked and tightened his feet to the bottom bed restraints. She gazed down at his five-pointed star positioning, his bubble ass exposed. Martina gripped each husky cheek, not fully cupping them in her palms.

"I don't fancy big dicks," she hissed, a guttural roar escaping him upon slapping his supple ass.

"Just ones bigger than yours."

With each strike at his bountiful glutes, Alasdair heaved. His body jolted forward, his muscles tightening beyond discomfort. In time, he controlled his resonant outcries, exuding deep breaths in its place.

"Had enough little boy?"

He cringed, still managing a haughty chuckle.

"Do me your fucking worst!"

Martina wasted no time. With each worsening thud penetrating his rock-solid physique, he did not know how long he could suppress his cries. His blood rushed through his muscles; building his arousal. He jerked as Martina gripped his strong cock, glans flared, now purplish and leaking with reckless enthusiasm onto the mattress.

"Not only is your willy minuscule, you lack stamina and authority. You are a caricature of men Alasdair Myers. It's time you accept this!"

She stroked his erection while spanking ass; subtly smirking while Alasdair resisted the urge to fire his load. He will not further shame himself. He will regain control even if his cock said otherwise!

"Just cum Alasdair. You know you can't control it."