I imagined walking into your bedroom. You had been expecting me. So you had arranged yourself just to please me. You were sprawled on the bed, in an erotic, sexy, downright sluttish way. You were lying diagonally, with your feet towards the top right corner of the bed and your head towards to lower left corner. Your face was turned to your left, where the door was. And your eyes were expecting me. You heard me coming.
When you saw me, you just stayed there, waiting for me to use you, take you, have you, own you, abuse you, F U C K you. Your wanton display gave me your consent.
As I walked in, I was sure that I will be greeted by a sight so sexy that it will stop me in my tracks. So I steeled myself in order to keep my self control. But, even after preparing myself for it, I still was caught off-guard. My walk stammered for half a micro second, enough for you to feel proud of the effect you have on me. You were there, on the bed, with only a smile on you and nothing else. Your naked body, the body made to serve me, the body made to please me, lay in front of me. My stumble turned your smile into an almost invisible smirk, but a smirk nevertheless. The corner of your lips, the right corner, curved slightly up reveling in the slight upper hand that your wanton display of sex gave you. The score's 1-0 in your favor.
You prepared yourself for me as I approached you. As is always the case, I had been craving your body forever. I came closer, locking my eyes with yours all the way from the bedroom door to the bed. When I reached you, I stopped and stood right over your head. I studied the disheveled state of your hair, part of which was under your head, part under your shoulders, part under your back, part spread around and scattered on your face, almost hiding away those pretty pretty eyes.
I inched closer, moved both my arms to the sides of your neck. Just when the tips of my fingers touched your skin, I felt a shiver in your body. My hands were cold and your body was warm. I noticed that the barely-there smirk was no longer there.
'TouchΓ©'. You never said it though I know you did. I heard what your mind said but your lips didn't. 'Who has the upper-hand now, my ...', I said to myself though I never finished the sentence. The score's 1-1 and we are even.
I love the notion of being in control, deciding for the both of us, dictating how both of us get pleasure from the other. I just love dominating you, all of you. It was barely a few second and I realized that my self control seemed to be dissipating away. When I could no longer stay back, I unzipped my jeans, reached forward and grabbed your throat. I proceeded to throat fuck you with fervor. Soon I started sighing. Then, my sighs became moans, and the moans became groans, then grunts and then yells as my cock see-sawed through your mouth. At no point was it fully out. At all times, my cock was surrounded by your mouth. I grabbed on to your throat as pleasure beyond anything I ever felt crept into every fiber of my being. Under me, all I could see was your naked body from your neck down. Your face was hidden between my thighs. Your tits bounced as I rammed into you, their bouncing matched my grunts. Sometimes, I slowed down and on other occasions, I sped up. My outer thighs clashed with your shoulders; my balls slapped on to your face; my nails dug into your skin.