Femdom Ass Worship #13, Scene #04

Julie Cash barges through the door like she owns the place. Statuesque, cartoon-blonde, pink micro-dress riding up over plastic curves and thunder thighs, she talks with that little-girl voice while a sneer carves her face. 'Bitches like you do what I say.' He never gets a word out. She heels the printer until it cracks, then punts the lamp across the room; glass skitters over tile. The skinny neighbor drops his shoulders, and she takes it as surrender. One meaty paw shoves his face between her cheeks. She grinds slow, ass-cheek sweat slicking his mouth, his nose buried deep in her crack. The stink floods him. Her foot shoves between his thighs next, toes pinching until he drops to his knees. She plants both soles on his chest, orders him to lick the soles, the toes, every sticky crease. When he’s panting and hard she leans in, her belly smothering his face again while a chubby fist jerks him rough and mean. He spurts across his own stomach in thick white ropes. She wipes her hand on his shirt, stands, and leaves him shaking in the wrecked room.