mm**** Posted November 7 The hotel bar smelled like spilled whiskey and cheap cologne when she slid onto the stool beside me, exactly as her profile pic promised: raven hair in a high ponytail, fishnets shredded just enough to tease, and a leather ch@ker stamped with a tiny silver “O.” Her FetLife handle—*brattybitch4u*—flashed in my head like neon. I’d messaged her three nights ago: *“Kneel when you see me. No words.”* She’d replied with a single drooling emoji. Game on. “Drink?” I asked, voice flat. She shook her head, eyes already glassy. “I’m here to swallow something else, Sir.” I hooked a finger through her ch@ker and tugged her off the stool. Heads turned; I didn’t care. Elevator ride up, I pinned her to the mirrored wall, hand up her skirt, two fingers sliding into the wet heat she’d bragged about in DMs. “No panties. Good cunt.” She whimpered, thighs clenching around my knuckles as the floors dinged past. Room 1212. Door clicked shut. I shoved her to her knees on the scratchy carpet. “Show me what that smart mouth wrote in your limits list.” She unzipped me with trembling fingers, tongue flicking out to taste the precum already beading. I fisted her ponytail and fed her every inch until her mascara ran in black rivers down her cheeks. Gagging, drooling, perfect. “Up.” I yanked her to the bed, flipped her onto all fours. Skirt rucked to her waist, fishnets ripped wider. Her pussy glistened, swollen, begging. I slapped it—hard. She yelped, pushing back for more. “Count, slut.” “One, Sir… two, Sir…” By ten her ass glowed cherry-red, her cunt dripping onto the duvet. I rolled on a condom, lined up, and slammed home in one brutal thrust. She screamed into the pillow, knuckles white on the sheets. I set a savage pace, one hand choking her throat, the other yanking her ponytail like reins. “This what you begged for on FetLife? Some stranger wrecking your holes?” “Yes—fuck—yes, Sir!” I pulled out, flipped her over, and straddled her chest. Cock slick with her juices, I pa1nted her tits, then shoved back into her mouth for cleanup. She sucked greedily, eyes locked on mine, until I hauled her up by the ch@ker and bent her over the desk. Mirror in front—perfect. I watched her face shatter as I took her ass, slow at first, then merciless. Her safe-word never came; only broken moans and the wet slap of skin. When I finally came, I pulled out and marked her back in thick ropes. She collapsed, trembling, cum cooling on her skin. I snapped a pic—*“Proof for your profile,”* I growled. She just smiled, wrecked and radiant. Later, room service knocking, I let her curl against me, ch@ker still on. “Round two after fries,” I said. She nuzzled my thigh, whispering, “Yes, Sir,” already addicted to the bite.
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