I order Cynthia to strip

"I can't wear a bra with this dress," Cynthia explains. She's right of course, the little black dress would bulge weirdly and the straps and tops of the bra would constantly be on display if she did wear a bra with it. I shrug.

"Strip," I say and watch as Cynthia gets up on her feet before me and begins to shimmy out of the dress. Her whole body sways seductively as the dress falls off her body into a heap by her feet, her tits shake from side to side and I feel life return to my recently spent dick. Cynthia is left standing in just her black lace panties. She turns around, facing her butt towards me and bends over as she slides the sexy garment off her smooth body, revealing her sex, which is a mess of fluids, to me.

"Go clean yourself up and come to my bedroom," I say, standing up and heading to my bedroom. Cynthia doesn't keep me waiting long and finds me sitting on the edge of my bed, still naked, my half-erect dick stirring between my legs.

"I'm all clean now," Cynthia says, smiling and striking a pose.

"I'll be the judge of that, whore," I say, keeping my expression stern but unable to help but find her antics cute. "Come here." I reach out my hands for her as she approaches me.