A Night... 3

[mj****]

A Night….. Submission

As I stepped into the hallway outside David and Claire’s sprawling Vegas mansion, the cool night air hit me like a slap after the heat of our night together. Claire, still in her lacy black lingerie, followed me out to the driveway, her hands roaming my body. She grabbed my ass, pulling me into a deep, hungry kiss, her lips tasting of salt and desire. As I turned to leave, her fingers lingered, slipping something into my back pocket. “I’ll hear from you soon,” she purred, her voice low and teasing, her eyes promising more. I drove home in a daze, the memory of her body pressed against mine burning in my mind. Exhausted from hours of fucking her senseless, I tore off my clothes, crashed onto my bed, and passed out, drained to my core.
The next morning was Sunday, and I woke up groggy, my body aching in the best way. As I gathered my clothes for laundry, I felt something crinkle in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I found a small envelope sealed with a bright red lipstick kiss. Scrawled across it in Claire’s elegant handwriting was “To Daddy.” My heart kicked up a gear. I tore it open, revealing a letter dripping with her scent—jasmine and something darker, primal.
The letter was pure fire, her words raw and unfiltered:
“Daddy, I can still feel your cock stretching me, filling me up until I couldn’t think straight. The way you fucked me in the shower, your hands gripping my hips, your dick so deep I saw stars—it’s all I’ve been thinking about. I want more. I want to submit to you completely, to be your perfect little cum slut. Next time, I’ll have everything you need to tame me—blindfold, cuffs, whips, whatever you want to use on me. I want you to train me, break me, make me yours. I’m craving your hands on my throat, your cock in my mouth, your cum dripping down my face. I’m yours to use, Daddy, any way you want. Meet me at the Red Rock Casino, center bar, 7:00 p.m., Thursday. Suite 2410. I’ll be waiting. —Your Claire, Your Ultimate Toy.”
My *** was boiling, my dick already half-hard just reading it. Thursday was three days away, and the anticipation was a slow burn, driving me fucking insane. Every night, I reread the letter, her words looping in my head, each one a spark to the fire she’d lit.
Finally, Thursday night arrived. I walked into the Red Rock and to the center bar, the place buzzing with energy, but Claire was impossible to miss. She stood out like a flame in a black leather minidress that hugged her curves like a second skin, the neckline plunging to show off her perfect tits, the hem barely covering her ass. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves, those diamond studs catching the light, and her red heels screamed she was here to be noticed. I came up behind her, kissing her neck, feeling her shiver under my lips. “Well, damn,” I said, sliding onto the stool next to her. “Where’s David tonight?”
She turned, her eyes smoldering. “He’s sitting this one out,” she said, her voice husky. “But we’re documenting it. For him.” She nodded toward her phone, propped discreetly on the bar, recording us. We ordered appetizers—oysters, naturally—and drinks, but the food was just a backdrop to the real hunger. Her hand found my thigh under the bar, nails digging in as we laughed, flirted, and let the tension build. Her foot brushed my calf, her fingers grazed my arm, and every touch was like gasoline on a fire. I leaned in, whispering how much I wanted her, and she bit her lip, her hand sliding higher, brushing my cock through my pants.
“Ready to take me upstairs?” she murmured, her voice a challenge. I didn’t need to be asked twice. In the elevator, it was like a dam broke—we were all over each other, my hands pulling her skirt up, her ass bare except for a tiny thong, her lips crashing against mine. I pinned her against the wall, kissing her hard, her moans muffled as my fingers slipped under the lace, feeling how wet she was already. The ding of the elevator snapped us out of it, and we stumbled down the hall to Suite 2410.
The room was a fantasy come to life—candles flickering everywhere, casting shadows on a massive bed d***d in silk, a 360° camera right above the bed on the ceiling. A Jacuzzi bubbled in the corner, but my eyes went straight to the table nearby: ropes, leather cuffs, a riding crop, a paddle, a blindfold, and a sleek vibrator, all laid out like a buffet of sin. Claire stood in the center, sexy as fuck in her tight dress, her eyes blazing. “I’ve been a bad girl,” she said, her voice low, dripping with need. “You’ll have to decide my punishment. Train me, Daddy. Make me your cum slut. Use me like a toy—I promise I won't break.”
I smirked, unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it aside. “Strip for me,” I ordered. “Show me that body.” Music pulsed softly from a speaker—some sultry R&B—and she moved like she was born for it, ***ling off her dress in a slow, teasing dance. The leather fell away, leaving her in just a white thong, her tits full and perfect, nipples hard. She swayed closer, our bodies brushing, heat radiating between us. “You want to be my little cum slut?” I growled, pulling her against me. “More than anything,” she whispered, her voice trembling with want.
I kissed her hard, grabbing her wrists and pinning them behind her back, snapping the leather cuffs on. “Be a good girl,” I said. “Get on your knees.” She dropped instantly, her bare tits brushing my thighs, her back against the couch. I slid off my boxers, my cock already thickening, and she opened her mouth eagerly. I guided it in, slow at first, letting her tongue swirl around the tip, her lips tight as she sucked. Her head pressed back against the couch, and I started fucking her mouth, slow and deliberate, then faster, deeper. Her eyes watered, but she took it like a champ, gagging as I hit the back of her throat, spit dripping down her chin. “Good girl,” I growled, and she moaned around my cock, the sound vibrating through me.
I pulled her up, dragging her to the bed, laying her down so her head hung over the edge, perfect for deeper access. I fucked her throat again, her gasps and gags filling the room, her hands cuffed and useless. She was a mess—spit trailing down her face, eyes locked on mine, hungry and wild. I pulled back, moving her to the floor, her head tilted back against the bed. A few more thrusts, and I held myself deep, unloading down her throat. She gagged, a tear slipping from her eye, but she swallowed every drop, her gaze never leaving mine. When I pulled out, she gasped for air, then licked her lips. “You taste so fucking good,I want, I NEED more,” she panted.
I slid my cock back in her mouth, letting her clean me off, her tongue working eagerly to catch every bit of cum. “That’s just the beginning,” I said, smirking. “Are you going to be able to handle all the cum i’m going to have for you? Don't miss a drop.” She looked up, still breathless, cum glistening on her lips. “Please, Daddy, train me. Use me. I want to be your perfect little fuck slut.”
I uncuffed her wrists, lifting her to her feet. “Go shower,” I said, landing a hard slap on her ass, watching it jiggle as she walked away. She paused at the bathroom door, glancing back, cum still dripping from her chin, her eyes promising more. I grabbed the hotel phone, ordering a limo with champagne and two flutes. “Destination?” the concierge asked. “Whispers,” I said, naming the exclusive club known for its anything-goes vibe. Claire emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around her, messing with her hair, slipping her diamond studs back in. “Where we going?” she asked, her voice curious but eager.
“You’ll see,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. Her smile was wicked, ready for whatever I had planned, the night stretching out like a dream that had just begun.