Obey Goddess Gemini

Goddess Gemini walks in stacked, tits heavy, ass like sin. She turns whiteboys soft in two seconds flat. Glenn gets dragged into her dungeon and dropped on all fours like a dog. She circles him slow, razor smile cutting the air. “Speak when spoken to, whiteboy,” she says, voice dripping acid and honey. Then she turns and bends—gives him the full view. “Get your face in there,” she orders. He leans in. She laughs when he snorts her scent like it’s oxygen. “Look at you. Pathetic little pig on his knees, sniffing my fucking asshole.” She tells him to open his mouth and stick his tongue in. He worships—long strokes, hungry. She moans like she’s bored and amused at the same time. Next he’s on his back. She plants her black feet over his lips and shoves two toes straight into his mouth. “Tell me how lucky you are to smell these,” she commands. He does, voice muffled and trembling. She smirks. “Now tell me I own you.” He says it, eyes glassy. That’s when the real game begins. She pulls her legs up on the throne, spreads, points. “Tongue. Deep.” He obeys, stretches her open with both hands so he can bury every inch of pink muscle inside her. She watches the whole time, lazy satisfaction burning behind heavy lids. Finally she drops, smothering his face with pussy and ass. She rocks forward, drags cunt and hole across his mouth like she’s signing her name. “Be a good little whiteboy,” she purrs, and he gives her exactly what she wants—every filthy second of it. Hot ass worship, foot worship, facesitting. Goddess Gemini runs the whole show, and Glenn can’t do a thing but take it.