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I break the kiss, and see the dizzied dismay in your eyes.
"Give it to me, or I'll take it," I growl. Lust and fear compete for control inside you; I can read them on your pretty face as clearly as clouds crossing the darkening October skies. I pretend to lose patience. In one smooth motion I appropriate the coat, tearing it off of you by one lapel, carelessly tossing it aside against the weather-stained brick wall. You gasp, wrapping your arms around your scantily clad body, suddenly frigid in the cool fall gloaming.
"Put your arms down!" I bark. "Did you obey me and wear everything I told you to?"
Nodding miserably, shivering, you comply with my command. I grin wolfishly and my eyes rake your body, absorbing every delicious detail. I am thoroughly titillated by what I see: a tight black cropped cami with red lace bra underneath, shiny black micro-mini that might as well be a belt for all it covers, ruffled black garter-belt holding up black fishnet stockings, red patent-leather stripper heels. You're as nervous as a first-time hooker, here in the tiny courtyard outside my door, and it's an incredibly potent aphrodisiac.
I back you up into the corner next to my front door, and against the rough brick wall, I pin both your wrists above your head with one hand. My denim-clad leg tucks between the ruffled garters on your fishnet-clad thighs and rubs your already wet pussy underneath your slutty little skirt. My chest pressing against your huge tits, I take your jaw in my other hand, angle your face slightly, and shove my tongue in your mouth. One of my many gestures demonstrating that I'm in charge, that you're my eager whore, that I'll always make you mine. Mine, always mine.
I move my hot, wet mouth from yours to your earlobes, I bite and nibble your neck in the spots that are so easy for me to find. In a husky undertone, I describe exactly what I'm going to make you do to please me, enjoying your small noises of passionate obeisance. I grind my thigh deliberately against you, silently cursing the thin fabric between my flesh and your pulsing clit; the contact forces a brief, high-pitched squeal from your damp throat. I pull away and look you in the eyes, order you to take off your panties and hand them to me. You gasp and hesitate for just a second.
"Did I stutter, you little back-alley slut? Do it now!" Your heart pounding, you bend down and submit, quickly unsnapping your garters, dropping the panties to your dainty ankles, and re-snapping each of the four garters back onto your fishnet stockings. I stand there, arms crossed, avidly watching your every movement. Finally, you shyly hand me your scanty, soaking panties. I hold them up for inspection, and glide my fingers against the soaked cotton crotch. Staring into your eyes, I slowly apply the wetness to my lips like gloss. I lick my lips, testing, and make a noise of approval. Your eyes widen, feeling your freshly shaven pussy throb with need.
I grab your wrists suddenly, roughly, and force you around to face the bricks of the courtyard's inside corner. I use your wet panties to tightly tie your hands behind your back. You feel me pressing behind you, your cheek forced against the chilly dividing wall. I grind my turgid cock against your bare bottom, moving slightly - just enough to tease, just enough to make you gasp, just enough to make you drip. My arms snake around your waist, sliding into the bottom of your tight crop-top. My hands move up and grasp your luscious tits, their sweet pink nubs straining like diamonds against that lacy bra you know I like.
I pinch your nipples suddenly and viciously. You jump and moan. I feel your juices start to soak through my jeans and it drives me wild. I keep working my dong slowly against the sweet curve of your ass, and you whimper. I smile; I'm just getting started.
I lick my lips, tasting the lingering musky sweetness of your essence. I feel an answering gush of my own wetness; it runs slowly down the silky lips of my ju
"Give it to me, or I'll take it," I growl. Lust and fear compete for control inside you; I can read them on your pretty face as clearly as clouds crossing the darkening October skies. I pretend to lose patience. In one smooth motion I appropriate the coat, tearing it off of you by one lapel, carelessly tossing it aside against the weather-stained brick wall. You gasp, wrapping your arms around your scantily clad body, suddenly frigid in the cool fall gloaming.
"Put your arms down!" I bark. "Did you obey me and wear everything I told you to?"
Nodding miserably, shivering, you comply with my command. I grin wolfishly and my eyes rake your body, absorbing every delicious detail. I am thoroughly titillated by what I see: a tight black cropped cami with red lace bra underneath, shiny black micro-mini that might as well be a belt for all it covers, ruffled black garter-belt holding up black fishnet stockings, red patent-leather stripper heels. You're as nervous as a first-time hooker, here in the tiny courtyard outside my door, and it's an incredibly potent aphrodisiac.
I back you up into the corner next to my front door, and against the rough brick wall, I pin both your wrists above your head with one hand. My denim-clad leg tucks between the ruffled garters on your fishnet-clad thighs and rubs your already wet pussy underneath your slutty little skirt. My chest pressing against your huge tits, I take your jaw in my other hand, angle your face slightly, and shove my tongue in your mouth. One of my many gestures demonstrating that I'm in charge, that you're my eager whore, that I'll always make you mine. Mine, always mine.
I move my hot, wet mouth from yours to your earlobes, I bite and nibble your neck in the spots that are so easy for me to find. In a husky undertone, I describe exactly what I'm going to make you do to please me, enjoying your small noises of passionate obeisance. I grind my thigh deliberately against you, silently cursing the thin fabric between my flesh and your pulsing clit; the contact forces a brief, high-pitched squeal from your damp throat. I pull away and look you in the eyes, order you to take off your panties and hand them to me. You gasp and hesitate for just a second.
"Did I stutter, you little back-alley slut? Do it now!" Your heart pounding, you bend down and submit, quickly unsnapping your garters, dropping the panties to your dainty ankles, and re-snapping each of the four garters back onto your fishnet stockings. I stand there, arms crossed, avidly watching your every movement. Finally, you shyly hand me your scanty, soaking panties. I hold them up for inspection, and glide my fingers against the soaked cotton crotch. Staring into your eyes, I slowly apply the wetness to my lips like gloss. I lick my lips, testing, and make a noise of approval. Your eyes widen, feeling your freshly shaven pussy throb with need.
I grab your wrists suddenly, roughly, and force you around to face the bricks of the courtyard's inside corner. I use your wet panties to tightly tie your hands behind your back. You feel me pressing behind you, your cheek forced against the chilly dividing wall. I grind my turgid cock against your bare bottom, moving slightly - just enough to tease, just enough to make you gasp, just enough to make you drip. My arms snake around your waist, sliding into the bottom of your tight crop-top. My hands move up and grasp your luscious tits, their sweet pink nubs straining like diamonds against that lacy bra you know I like.
I pinch your nipples suddenly and viciously. You jump and moan. I feel your juices start to soak through my jeans and it drives me wild. I keep working my dong slowly against the sweet curve of your ass, and you whimper. I smile; I'm just getting started.
I lick my lips, tasting the lingering musky sweetness of your essence. I feel an answering gush of my own wetness; it runs slowly down the silky lips of my ju
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