'Shh... It'll all be alright, my love... Just let it happen...'
Her voice was like silk; soft, soothing,
safe.
It was hard to remember that, not twenty minutes ago, she had been the other party in, and on the receiving end of, a break-up.
Her warm thigh slipped over his hip, tantalising and tender. He shivered, even that small sensation intoxicating. She was as irresistibly hot as she ever had been. It had been what he'd gotten hooked on originally. But months of absenteeism, nights spent waiting for her while she apparently went to bed with other men--and women--and now solid proof that she had been messaging other men, had forced his slow decline from affection to a head like an ugly pimple.
So why the
fuck
was he letting her have sex with him now?
Despite knowing everything he had before he'd confronted her, he couldn't help himself. Couldn't bring himself to hold her back, to say the words he knew he had to say. "Stop, I can't fuck you when I know you've been going to bars and sleeping with any man who'll down more shots than you" was all he could think of, and yet when it came to speaking, his mouth felt like it were miles away, with communication between the two expected to take months, not moments.
A shocking thrill passed through him and he looked down, seeing her split legs shadowed behind the firm pole of his cock, standing erect directly before her pussy. Her hand rested on his hip, spread fingers ready to slip forwards and grip him. He knew what it felt like; she'd done it before, many times. Perhaps that was why she was doing it again now - to tease him, draw him along with familiar sensations, forcing him to anticipate her pleasure rather than think about her—
his--
pain.
His eyes roamed upwards, taking in the shapely hips, the slender waist, and the round, flawless spheres of her breasts, two glorious, perfect mounds that he still wasn't
totally
convinced weren't fake. They jutted out from her chest, breaking the hourglass curve of her torso with their figure, only making her lustful shape more tantalising. Her hands slithered up her body, chasing his eyes, and he watched her cup each breast tenderly, gently squeezing them, showing off just how taut and perfect they were. His eyes rose, seeing her neck, her sharp jawline, her feminine cheekbones, her flowing, ponytailed blonde hair, and...
... And those eyes. Blue like crystals. Blue like sunny ocean water. Blue like...
'Good boy,' she breathed, moaning softly as she compressed each breast, in her element. 'Just let yourself go for me... Just how you know you should. Focus on my body, my perfect, sexy body, and forget everything except for me...' She bit her index finger, reaching forwards as she spoke, both hands lowering to support herself on his chest, just beneath his pecks. Her breasts pinched slightly together between her arms, and he felt the cool touch of her skin just on the edge of his cock, enough to tease it with the slightest of contacts, but not enough to rub or even displace it where it stood, erect and waiting. 'You know you belong to me. I'm in control. I always have been... So let me control you now, and give in to my body. You know you'll be rewarded for obeying.'
Slowly, painstakingly, she descended, working her hands up his flesh until her elbows bent on his body, climbing higher and higher until she lay fully atop him. Two firm points drilled into his chest, while her flawless skin burned with warmth that drove him wild. His cock, now walked slowly down until it was sandwiched between their bodies, pulsed needily, stimulated but not encouraged towards orgasm by the tightness of her body and weight atop it.
She stared at him, huge blue eyes as wide as plates, fixated. He couldn't look away. Her breath came in short warm gusts, smelling of mint and lust. The scent of her shampoo reached him, floral and spicy. Loose blonde strands tickled his face, lighting nerves on fire inside an already nylon-taut body.
He wanted to fight, wanted to push her off him and scream... But the urge to do it paled in comparison to the pure, unadulterated sex clouding and controlling everything about him in that moment. He shuddered, feeling his cock pulsing between their bodies, and she grinned, an evil, knowing smile. Those huge blue eyes still stared down into his, impossible to ignore, impossible to resist.
'Good boy...' She breathed, barely a whisper, her breath cascading over his face. 'Submit for me. Let yourself go... And fall to my will. You're my pet... My man toy... My brainless slave... Sink for me. Return to your true self... A dumb, horny, cock for my perfect body to use.'
Something deep inside him broke, snapping like an over-taut rope. He... He would submit. Yes. Yes, he'd submit. He already had - not just tonight, but long, long ago. He knew he belonged to her, knew he always would submit to her control - she dominated him, and he needed only to be commanded by her, to obey, to be used. He was a toy, an empty doll, a hard penis for her sexual gratification. He was hers. Like property, he would obey her every whim.
She saw it through his eyes, some unseen fight dying in his mind. The grin deepened, her victory assured.
'Good boy,' she cooed, wiggling her hips slightly, rolling the cock sandwiched between their bodies ever so slightly back and forth. She began to rock gently, starting a slow, sensual motion. 'You always knew you would submit again... It was only a matter of time.'