Tyson Snyder stood behind Isla McDougall, gripping a handful of brown, shoulder-length hair. He tugged harder as she bent over, and her back began arching upward. Her palms pressed into the bed of the hotel suite. She let out a loud, deep moan. She continued to take everything Tyson had for her. She remained bent, legs spread, ankles slightly bending as her 3-inch shiny black patent stiletto pumps remained upright and forward.
“Who’s pussy is this?” he asked firmly, pausing, as she wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He tugged harder this time. He pulled her hips toward his with conviction. She gasped.
“Ohhh!” “This pussy is yours, Sir….” Tyson smirked and continued.
“God, I fucking love that cock.” She exclaimed in a breathy voice.
“Oh yeah?” he asked while sliding out of her.
“Then how about this….” He proceeded to turn her to face him. She gazed into his dark, cold blue eyes. She was both aroused and a tiny bit afraid; she bit her lip as they continued.
He slid his hand down her lower back and pulled her toward him. He gripped her leg and pushed it back as he leaned into her. Isla closed her eyes as she felt every thrust. She grabbed her chest, her hands wrapping around them. She lightly pinched her already stiff chest, further sending a wave of pleasure throughout her body, causing even her fingertips to tingle.
He continued a while longer, feeling his completion nearing. He slid out of her slowly. “Kneel Position,” he said firmly. Isla complied. She dropped to her knees, gazing forward, with her palms resting on her thighs.
“Yes Sir,” she said. He stood there, cock still standing at attention. “I want you to finish it.” He said. She nodded,
“Yes Sir.”
Isla loved sucking cock, more specifically, Tyson’s cock. She felt herself getting wetter as her mouth glided on his shaft. Tyson felt himself nearing finish, and Isla continued. He finally felt a wave of euphoria pulse throughout his body. Isla felt him sliding down her throat as she continued to suck. The feeling was so intense Tyson felt his eyes flicker as he shot into her mouth. She regained her full kneeling position.
“Attention Position,” he said as he caught his breath.
She stood at attention, gazing forward.
“Well done.” He said appreciatively. She smiled shyly. He walked around her and grabbed her firm, curvy bum.
“At ease.”
He watched her confidently strut away to the restroom, her legs firmly flexed as her hips swayed, her back slightly arched as her bum stood out. She was stunning-a work of art.
Tyson lay in bed. Isla approached the bed, kicking off her heels. She climbed into bed with him. He extended his arm and placed it around Isla. He gently rubbed her shoulders. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Uh, isn’t it obvious,” she said, glowing. “That was so good… orgasms… …at some point, I lost count.”
He smiled and said. “I think I’m going to go get one of those waters from the mini-fridge; you want one?”
“Yes please.”
“Oo, look at this bottle. We’re so fancy.” She said jokingly.
“What are you talking about? We always have the best. That’s what chasing ambulances get you”.
“Should I run a bath for you? Or are you more of in a snuggle, nap kind of mood?” he asked.
“Definitely going nap on this one.” She replied as they climbed back into bed.
“Ever get stitches?” she asked, running her finger along his chest. “Why? You going to give me some?? Thought only snitches get stitches. You’re so random!” He said, laughing.
“I just wanted to know if there was ever a time you thought there’d be a possibility of not having such a perfect face. I mean… you sir, are a solid 7.” She said, grinning.
“Why does your rating scale only go to 7?” he quipped back, smiling.
“Actually… see this scar. I got it when-“
He said, pointing to his scalp. Isla interrupted, “Here I thought I just had a human sex doll mannequin fetish, but as it turns out, you aren’t perfect after all!” She continued to run her finger along his skin. “I think scars can be kind of sexy… They’re a physical representation of your struggles. They’re personality.”
“How about you, miss?” he asked, smiling.
“Nope! I’m perfect….” She said as she aloofly turned up her nose.
“Well, how about I give you a full body workup?”
“Pretty sure you already did that, Sir….”
“So… what… you don’t have physical manifestations of your struggles?”
“Actually, it’s a bit faded, but I got one here,” pointing to a quarter-sized faded scar on her lower knee.
“That’s not a scar. That’s basically a shiny birthmark!“
“Well, I wasn’t born with it…” she responded.
Tyson laughed in his best know-it-all-voice, “Well then, the birth of your personality….”
“Good one!” she said, rolling her eyes.
She snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his chest.
They floated off to sleep in an embrace. Isla lay, softly breathing, making a slight faint sighing noise as she slept.
They drifted deeper into sleep when suddenly, Bzzz Bzzz. Tyson’s phone started buzzing.
Confused as he opened his eyes, he stumbled and finally answered.
“Hello…?” he said.
“Ty… this is Mike. You need to get to the firm, like, now.” Mike said.
“Why? What is it?” he asked.
“The firm is facing some serious problems that only you can handle… I can’t explain now. Just come as soon as you can!”
“Alright. Alright. I’m on my way.” He responded.
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