Fucking His Ass with A Strap-on

He Needed My Strap-on

The moment he knelt before me, I knew he was ready. His eyes flickered with anticipation, a mix of nervousness and desire, but there was no doubt about what he truly wanted. He had begged for this, fantasized about it, and now, he was finally here, about to experience what it meant to surrender completely. Tonight, I was in control, and I was going to enjoy fucking his ass.

I trailed my fingers along his jaw, tilting his chin up so he had no choice but to meet my gaze. “You know what you asked for, don’t you?” I whispered, my voice dripping with dominance. He nodded, his breath hitching. I smirked. “Then get on the bed. Hands and knees.” I love being a sensual phone sex girl, but sometimes, I like to be in total control.

Fucking His Ass

He scrambled onto the mattress, his body trembling with anticipation. The power I held over him was intoxicating. I slowly strapped on my harness, making sure he heard every deliberate click and adjustment. He shuddered at the sound, knowing what was coming. The sight of him—submissive, vulnerable, waiting—sent a thrill through me. There was no greater pleasure than taking control, than fucking his ass and making him mine.

I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself behind him. My fingers teased over his skin, tracing along his spine before sliding lower. “Relax,” I murmured, pressing a single finger inside him. He gasped but didn’t resist. “That’s a good boy.” I worked him open, making sure he felt every inch, stretching him in preparation for what was coming next. I wanted him to crave it, to need it, to beg for me to keep fucking his ass.

When I was satisfied that he was ready, I lined myself up, letting the tip press against him. His body tensed, but I placed a firm hand on his hip. “Breathe,” I commanded. He exhaled shakily, and with one slow, deliberate motion, I pushed inside. His moan filled the room, a sound of surrender and pleasure intertwined. I paused, letting him adjust, then moved deeper, claiming him inch by inch.

The rhythm started slow, purposeful, teasing. I wanted him to feel every thrust, to know exactly who was in charge. Each time I pushed forward, he responded with a desperate whimper, his body pressing back against me, silently pleading for more. “That’s it,” I praised. “You love this, don’t you? You love me fucking your ass.” This one one of my favorite sexual scenarios.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Yes, Mistress,” he gasped, his voice thick with pleasure. I gripped his hips tighter, increasing the pace, fucking his ass with an intensity that left him breathless. He was mine in this moment, completely and utterly. Every movement, every sound he made was for me, and I reveled in the control I wielded over him.

By the time I was finished, he was a quivering mess beneath me, his body spent, his mind lost in the bliss of submission. I leaned down, brushing my lips against his ear. “Good boy,” I whispered, savoring the way he shivered in response. Fucking his ass wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about power, about control, about taking what was mine and leaving him desperate for more. And I knew, without a doubt, he’d be back for another lesson soon.

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