Facesitting Tales #04, Scene #03

Jessica ryan sits there like she owns the whole goddamn earth. Spoiled, smug, red hair falling across one shoulder, watching her black butler kneel like some frightened animal. She calls him clint. calls him clive. calls him whatever comes to mind that strips him smaller. He mixes the martini wrong again and she smiles like she planned it. "Shoes," she says. He takes them off. The heels are sharp and mean. He starts with her bare feet like he’s supposed to. Tongue working, quiet, steady. She lets out a small noise, half bored, half turned on, and watches him with lazy eyes. When the feet are clean she turns, rises a little, pulls the silk aside. Her ass comes down on his face heavy and deliberate. The smell, the heat—she doesn’t ask if he likes it. She rides his mouth the same way she rides the brown dildo she keeps between her thighs, grinding slow then harder, riding that plastic dick and his trapped tongue at the same time. Her fine white cheeks spread across his dark face, smothering, owning every inch. She never hurries. Her hand finds his dick, cool fingers, steady grip, stroking like she’s tipping a waiter. He makes a sound into her ass; she rides it out, eyes half-lidded, hips rolling. When she finishes she stands, adjusts her robe, looks down at the mess on his stomach. "Out," she says, already pouring herself another drink.