Control

He pushes me to my knees. My eyes are drawn to the bulge in his jeans, and my insides somersault. I can’t give him any sign of weakness. I have to stay in control. It’s part of the fun. To see how long I can last.

Before I  can go for the bulge, his hand is around my throat. Just one hand, and I can’t breathe. He lifts my face, and covers my mouth with his, his tongue slipping between my lips. I moan, and his other hand slips underneath my shirt, squeezing and pinching. I need more. A lot more.

When he releases his hold on my neck, my fingers are frantically working on his jeans, and soon, those are out of the way. In seconds, I have my hand wrapped around the base of his beautiful cock. I work the tip into my mouth, and stop. I know he’s holding his breath. It’s what he does to try to last longer. I pause, then bring his cock all the way down my throat. He isn’t holding his breath now.

I don’t stop. I continue to slide my mouth up and down his shaft, gagging occasionally, and loving it. He’s holding onto the sides of my head by my hair now, shoving himself further down my throat. I’m trying to test his endurance, but my own is fading. I break away for just a breath, and his hand is closing around my throat again. “Let’s really see how long you can go without air.” His hold isn’t tight, don’t worry. He just loves to tease. My hands wander to my jeans, and work through the button and zipper. He’s tracing my lips with his cock, and I’m tracing the other lips with my fingers.

I’m losing it. The control. I’m loving this. He can tell. I back away, up against the wall. He grins, and stands over me. He shoves his cock in my waiting mouth, and I swallow it all. He braces himself against the wall while he pounds my face, his balls slapping my chin. I can barely breathe, and I can’t swallow. A bit of spit escapes from the side of my mouth.

I don’t want to breathe… but I need to. I push him away.

His fingers graze my scalp as he grabs a fistful of hair. He pulls me forward, onto all fours, and I tense. He’s tugging my jeans down below my ass, and I freeze. When I feel his cock pressing against my now very wet snatch, I lose it.

I quit. I give up. I don’t want control. We both know he’s the one in control, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m his naughty little whore, and I want him inside me. Now.

I push back against him, and gasp when I feel my pussy stretching to accommodate him. I try to cling to the carpet as he starts fucking me hard. His cock is slamming into me, and I’m meeting every thrust. There’s no way he can hold his breath, and I show no restraint. I beg for more, and he gives it. He holds me by my ass, and drives his cock into my soaked pussy. It’s not long before the room starts to spin a little, and I close my eyes. My orgasm takes over,  and I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming.

He’s holding his breath again, but it isn’t working. He pulls out, and I sit up on my knees. I look up at him and smile when his warm load floods my mouth, and I swallow every drop.

Control? I never have it.