I put her in doggy, ready to fuck her in my previously mentioned, critically acclaimed rhythm, but the reality of the moment struck me.
This woman wanted to get *fucked.*
As seemingly dominant as she was, as hard as she rode me, it was *my* fucking that got her to squirt. It was *my* hard spankings that got her going. She wanted her fantasy of a young, strong, energetic stud to become a reality. I couldn’t be my usual, playful, casual self. I had to be aggressive. I had to match her energy. I was gonna fuck her like a real man.
“This is some good fucking pussy,” I said, finally getting vocal as I slid back inside her.
“Oh yeah? You like that pussy?”
“I fucking *love* this pussy. It’s *my* pussy.”
“Oh is it? Show me.”
Challenge accepted. I could feel a new, primal, dominant energy coursing through my body. Forget about the age gap, the height gap, the experience gap, the fact that she had bossed me around for most of the night, or even the fact that she was upper class and I was a broke little coffee boy. All that mattered was that I was a *man.* *I* was the one with the dick. *She* was the one on all fours, submitting to *me*, like she was supposed to. Her pussy belonged to my cock, and I was gonna prove it.