Chapter 628: Knocking At The Door
Chapter 628: Knocking At The Door
The moment my tongue pressed against Marina’s tight, puckered asshole, her body convulsed, a guttural moan ripping from her throat. "Hmm... Fucking... Aaah..." she groaned, her voice raw and needy, her fingers clawing at the sheets like a wild animal.The soundproofing in these rooms was a fucking blessing—because if the walls weren’t so thick, the entire White House would have heard the obscene symphony of her moans, the wet SLURP... SLURP... SQUELCH... of my tongue working her ass, the squelch of her pussy dripping like a fucking waterfall.
I pushed my tongue deeper, circling her hole, teasing her, stretching her just enough to make her whimper like a slut in heat.
The taste of her was fucking intoxicating—musky, sweet, forbidden—and the scent of her arousal was thick in the air, mingling with the perfume of her expensive lotion, the stink of her pussy so strong it made my cock throb like a fucking heartbeat.
Marina shuddered, her ass pressing back against my face, her moans growing louder, her breath ragged. "Fuck... yes... lick it, slave... fuck it with your tongue..." she gasped, her voice thick with lust, her body trembling as I licked and probed her asshole, my hands gripping her cheeks, spreading them wide to expose her completely. The sight of her—dripping, needy, submissive to my tongue—was almost too much to fucking bear.
Her juices were everywhere—soaking the sheets, dripping down her thighs, coating my chin—and the sound of my tongue moving against her was obscene—SLURP... SLURP... GLOP...—the scent of her arousal filling the air, mingling with the taste of her on my tongue.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sudden, insistent rapping at Marina’s door jolted us both from our filthy haze. The knocking was relentless, the maid’s voice filtering through the wood, polite but fucking annoying. "Ma’am... are you asleep?" the voice called, persistent like a fucking mosquito.
Marina scowled, her expression shifting from pleasure to pure irritation in an instant. She realized her dress had ridden up to her stomach, her black lace panties still pulled to the side, her pussy glistening and dripping with arousal, her asshole glistening with my saliva.
She quickly yanked her dress down, straightening it with a huff, her cheeks still flushed from pleasure, her nipples hard as fucking rocks beneath the thin fabric. "Hmm... fucking hell..." she muttered, her voice tinged with annoyance.
"I’ll go and see what the fuck this cunt wants..." She glanced at me, her eyes still dark with lust, but her tone was sharp, commanding. "You... stay here, slave..." She paused, her lips curling into a wicked smirk. "And don’t you dare touch that fucking cock without my permission... or I’ll cut it off..."
With that, Marina deliberately swayed her ass as she walked through the door connecting my room to hers, her hips rolling with exaggerated grace, her dress clinging to every fucking curve, the fabric groaning with every step.
The sight of her leaving—still aroused, still needy—made my cock throb painfully, aching for more, dripping with pre-cum and her saliva.
A few minutes passed, the silence in the room heavy with unfinished desire, the scent of her arousal still lingering in the air like a fucking cloud.
Then, the door creaked open again, and Marina reappeared, her expression sullen, her lips pressed into a tight line, her eyes flashing with anger.
"That fucking bitch..." she spat, her voice laced with venom, her fingers clenching into fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. "What the hell does that cunt want now?"
I remained kneeling on the bed, my cock still hard as fucking steel, still aching for release, my body trembling with the need to fuck her, to claim her, to obey her.
"Ma’am, what happened?" I asked, my voice submissive, my eyes downcast like the fucking slave she had trained me to be.
Marina slammed the door shut behind her, her breath still ragged from our interruption. "It’s that fucking cunt Kevin’s mother..." she said, her voice sharp enough to cut glass, her tits rising and falling with every angry breath.
"The maid told me she’s coming over tomorrow..." She paced for a moment, her dress swishing around her legs, her heels clicking against the floor like a fucking metronome.
"I don’t fucking know what she wants..." Her voice was tinged with frustration, but beneath it, I could sense something darker—fear, uncertainty, vulnerability. But Marina never stayed vulnerable for long.
Then, without warning, she lifted her dress again, exposing her pussy—glistening, swollen, dripping with arousal, her black lace panties soaked through like a fucking sponge. The scent of her was overwhelming—musky, sweet, intoxicating—like a fucking drug.
"Dexter..." she said, her voice low and commanding, her eyes locking onto mine with burning intensity. "I need you to fuck me hard..." Her tone was desperate, needy, and demanding.
"Make me forget about that bitch..." She paused, her lips curling into a sadistic smirk.
"And remember... you’re my slave... my toy... my fucking property..." She reached out, her fingers tangling in my hair, yanking my head back so I was forced to look at her. "Do you understand, slave?"
I nodded eagerly, my voice breathy, my cock throbbing at her words like a fucking heartbeat. "Yes, Ma’am..." I said, my posture submissive, my eyes dark with lust and obedience.
"Your slave... your toy... your property..." My hands trembled with the need to touch her, to please her, to fuck her until she screamed my fucking name.
Marina smirked, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good boy..." she purred, her voice dripping with mock praise. Then, without warning, she straddled me, her dress riding up around her hips, her pussy hovering over my cock like a fucking promise.
She lowered herself onto me, her tight heat swallowing my cock inch by fucking inch, the resistance intense but delicious.
"Ahh... fuck..." she gasped, her voice breathy, her nails digging into my shoulders like fucking claws as she sank down completely, her pussy clenching around me, milking me, squeezing me tight like a fucking vice.
Then, she leaned in, her lips crashing against mine in a hard, demanding kiss. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, claiming me, owning me, her moans vibrating against my lips as she began to ride me.
"Mmm... yes..." she murmured, her voice thick with lust, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles, her pussy clenching around my cock with every fucking movement.
"That’s it, slave... fuck your Queen..." Her voice was filthy, commanding, her breath hot against my ear. "Fuck me harder... make me scream like the whore I am..."
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