He was pathetic. His clothes still on, laying there, my creamy wet pussy covering his mouth. I basked in the moment. I came. I dominated and used him for my pleasure. He was my own personal toy. But I wasn’t done. He had no fucking clue that I knew about his little homewrecking whore. He probably thought this was some fun little sex game. One of my kinky, naughty fetishes that I liked to play out. Fuck that. I wiggled myself off his face, down to his chest. I sat on his chest. He was still wearing a tee shirt with one of his dumbass sports team logos on it. I hadn’t let him take off any of his clothes. Only me. And only so I could get pleasure from his mouth. I stared him in the eyes. “Do you like the way I taste?” I asked. He smiled, but no answer. His lips were glistening with the sweet nectar that had escaped me. I leaned down. He tried to meet me halfway, but I forced his head back onto the bed. “Don’t fucking kiss me,” I said.
What happened next? An evil game of oral pleasure. [See for yourself](https://sexualcompass.com/2019/11/01/an-evil-game-of-oral-pleasure/)
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dq9o9i/an_evil_game_of_oral_servitude