I still can’t believe how wild Jean’s birthday turned out. God, my heart’s racing just thinking about it. I planned everything—his ultimate fantasy night, me as the bossy mistress taking total control. He’s 28, I’m 27, and we’ve been playing these games for months. But this? This was next level. I turned our apartment into my dungeon: dim red lights, leather cuffs on the bedposts, a blindfold ready, lube and toys scattered like candy. The air smelled like vanilla candles mixed with my fresh-shaved pussy, already wet from anticipation.
He walked in blindfolded—my text said « surprise at home, no peeking. » I grabbed his tie, yanked him close. « Happy birthday, slave, » I whispered, my lips brushing his ear, hot breath making him shiver. His cologne hit me—woody, musky, mixed with nervous sweat. « Kneel. » He dropped fast, knees hitting the hardwood with a thud. I circled him, heels clicking, my silk robe slipping open just enough to tease my hard nipples against the fabric.
« Strip, » I ordered, voice low and firm. His hands fumbled—shirt buttons popping, pants zipper rasping down. His cock sprang out, already half-hard, veiny and thick, tip glistening pre-cum. Fuck, I love that sight. I stepped on his thigh with my heel, not hard, just pressure. « Hands behind your back. » He obeyed, groaning softly. I cuffed him to the bed, wrists stretched wide, ass up a bit. Blindfold on. His chest heaved, skin flushing pink.
I straddled his face first, thighs clamping his head. « Taste your mistress. » Lowered slow, my slick folds parting on his mouth. His tongue dove in—wet, sloppy laps, sucking my clit like starving. Mmm, the slurps echoed, his stubble scraping my inner thighs raw. I ground down, hips rolling, juice dripping on his chin. « Deeper, fucker. Eat it like you mean it. » He mumbled yes against me, vibrations buzzing my core. My tits bounced free from the robe, nipples aching as I pinched them, scent of my arousal thick in the air.
Pulled off, teasing. Trailed fingers down his back, nails scratching red lines. Grabbed lube—cool squirt on his ass crack. « Birthday spanking? » Smack—palm stinging his cheek, flesh jiggling. He yelped, cock twitching harder. Five, ten smacks, his skin hot and blooming red. Then I flipped him, legs spread eagle. His dick stood proud, throbbing. I stroked slow—velvet skin over steel, thumb circling the slit, salty pre-cum on my tongue when I licked it off.
« Suck my tits first. » Leaned in, shoving one nipple in his mouth. He nursed greedy—wet pops, teeth grazing just right. I mounted him reverse cowgirl, sinking down inch by inch. Fuck, stretched so full—his girth splitting me, walls clenching. Bounced hard, ass slapping his thighs, wet squelches filling the room. « Who’s your mistress? » « You are… fuck, you own me, » he gasped, hips bucking up. Sweat poured off us, salty on my skin, his balls tightening against me.
Switched to doggy—me on all fours now? Nah, I stayed boss. Pushed him flat, rode missionary-style but rough, nails in his chest. « Cum inside me, slave—fill your queen. » He thrust wild, grunts animal, my pussy pulsing around him. I came first—shuddering waves, squirting a hot gush on his abs, thighs soaked. He exploded seconds later, ropes of cum flooding me, warm and sticky, leaking out as I clenched.
Collapsed on him, uncuffing slow. Kissed his bitten lips, tasting myself. « Best birthday? » « Holy shit, yeah. » We laughed, bodies tangled, room reeking of sex—cum, sweat, satisfaction. Still sore down there, but damn, I’d do it again tomorrow.
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