And They Tell You It's Not Natural.

I meet fellow performer, Pepper Graham.  She's Half Thai/half Oaxacan, has blonde hair, tan skin, curvy body, and fake tits.  She's a real sweetheart.  She comes over, we drink wine, and I massage her feet and legs on my couch as we watch Velvet Goldmine.

"Since you've done my feet, you should massage my legs," she says.  So I do.

"You've come this far, why not continue massaging my thighs?"  She says as she slips off her tight black yoga pants.  She caresses her own stomach and then lays her hands on top of mine, following them as I grip and rub her juicy thighs.  She lifts her foot and brings it to my mouth.

"Kiss it," she says.  I open my mouth and let her toes slide past my lips and onto my tongue.  She smiles devilishly as she thrusts it in deeper, to the back of my throat, forcing my jaw to extend and my eyes to well.

"That's right, hold it there," she says.  "That's a good boy. Now I'm ready to play."     

We move into the bedroom. There, she instructs me to remove my shirt and my pants, saying, "they're pointless, get rid of them." Then she has me wear my Siberian wolf spirit hood that I have hanging on my door. "Oh, now there's my little puppy," she coos.

She tells me to get on all fours, on my hands and knees and beg, wag my tail, worship her feet, roll over and play dead, bark and even yelp like a begging dog.

She takes off her shirt and makes me play tug of war with my mouth. Then she kneels and instructs me to worship her big fake tits with my tongue, licking and swirling around each nipple, one at a time. We embrace, kissing, exploring each other's mouths and biting each other's necks.

She pins me to the floor and climbs on top, smothering me with her sopping pussy and her ass. I eat like a hungry dog having its final meal.  Meanwhile she pulls down my boxers and swallows my manhood. I thrust up and down, feeling it poke the back of her throat, making her tear and gag in a slight retribution for my earlier submission, a small taste of things to come.

Suddenly, she jumps off and brings her face to mine, lapping her juices while whispering, "Fuck me, please."

I put her on her knees and press her against my bed frame. Penetration sends her squealing and shivering. I grip the back of her hair with my right hand, and with my left I squeeze her neck, bringing her up to me, digging my face into her neck and securing my teeth around her shoulder, fucking her hard, into oblivion.

She cums, screaming in ecstasy and falling back down onto the bed. I press her face deeper into the mattress, between the sheets, muffling her cries.

She then turns her head, looks up at me, and says, "Now I want to make you cum. I want you to drop your seed deep into this little pussy. Can you? Please, can you for that for me?  You better.  You have to. You have to cum inside my pussy like a good boy."

I lay on my back and she straddles me like a proper cowgirl, riding until eruption, filling herself with my pearly seed. As it drips out and down my shaft she laps it up, and bringing her face to mine we share a big sloppy kiss.

"That's momma's good boy," she says with sly contentment.  

She melts into my arms, and we share a calm moment of silence and recollection; a return and a resettling of nerve-endings.  We close our eyes, concentrating only on the sound of each other's breath.