#deep thrust

Yeah forget about that, imagine deep throating him in his office in the casino while he works. Sucking his wet balls and swirling your tongue on his pink tip. And him letting out deep groans, whines and whimpers. Reaching out to grip your hair gently.

Uh bye.

The thought of telling you to get on your knees and open your mouth while I slap you in the face with my girldick. Whimper and whine all you want, but I like to play with my food before I eat it.

I might force it down your throat one time then slap you in the face for getting greedy. Or maybe I should leave it down your throat until your body begs for air.

I’ll most likely just tell you to be a good girl and keep your mouth open as I thrust deeply, slowly, and gently inside. Making sure every inch of my girldick touches the back of your throat. Let’s really test that gag reflex when you try to take all 8 inches of girldick. Every time you gag, I’ll slap you in your face. When you pass out from not being able to breathe, then I’ll take you to my bedroom, lay your pretty head on my pillow, pin your hands down, and force my throbbing gock inside of your pretty hole. I’ll groan in your ear and call you a good slut while your mind go blank. With every thrust, I would thrust harder and deeper to punish you for all of that gagging you did. As you regain consciousness, your brain will be fuzzy. All you’ll feel is your tight hole being forcibly stretched lovingly spread by mommy.

And you’ll take it all, won’t you baby?

The doorbell chimed, pulling Sarah from her mindless scrolling through social media. Another day, another afternoon of silence in the sprawling suburban house while her husband was off on another "business trip" - a phrase that now seemed to mean "gambling weekend with his buddies." She sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair before heading to the door.

Through the peephole, she saw a man in a utility uniform, clipboard in hand. Probably checking the meter. But as she opened the door, Sarah found herself taking in more than just his purpose. He was younger than she expected - maybe late twenties, with dark hair curling slightly at the collar of his blue uniform, and arms that suggested he actually worked for a living rather than just supervised.

"Ma'am," he nodded, "just here to check the gas meter. Shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

Sarah leaned against the doorframe, letting her robe fall open slightly to reveal the lace teddy she'd put on that morning in a rare moment of optimism. "The meter's in the basement," she said, her voice dropping to a lower register. "It's a mess down there. Why don't you come in for a drink first? It's hot out there."

The utility worker - Mike, according to his name tag - hesitated for just a moment before following her inside. His eyes kept darting to the hint of cleavage visible through her robe.

In the kitchen, Sarah poured two glasses of iced tea, making sure to brush against him as she handed him his. "So, Mike," she said, leaning against the counter, "do you make house calls often?"

"Only when necessary," he replied, his throat suddenly dry.

"Well, I have another problem you might be able to help with," Sarah said, closing the distance between them. Her hand traced the outline of his growing erection through his uniform pants. "Something's been needing attention for quite a while now."

Mike's clipboard hit the floor with a clatter as Sarah's lips met his. The kiss was hungry, desperate - months of loneliness and frustration pouring out of her. His hands were rough against her back, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

Without breaking apart, they stumbled toward the living room couch. Sarah's robe fell open completely as Mike's calloused hands explored her body, his touch sending electricity through her veins. She fumbled with his belt buckle, her fingers trembling with anticipation.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed against her neck as his mouth traveled downward.

Sarah ared her back as his lips found her nipples through the lace of her teddy. "Don't talk," she commanded, guiding his hand between her legs. "Just fuck me."

The utility worker needed no further encouragement. In moments, he was inside her, filling the emptiness that had become her constant companion. Sarah wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with equal desperation. The couch springs protested their rhythm, but Sarah didn't care - let the neighbors hear, let them wonder what was happening in the quiet house on the corner.

She came with a cry that was part pleasure, part release, her nails digging into his shoulders. Mike followed moments later, collapsing against her as they both struggled to catch their breath.

For a moment, they lay tangled together, the sound of their breathing the only noise in the room. Then reality began to creep back in.

"I should... I should check that meter," Mike said finally, pulling away and reaching for his pants.

Sarah watched him dress, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "The meter's fine," she said, pulling her robe closed again. "But if you ever need to check it again..."

Mike nodded, already halfway to the door. "I'll be sure to come back next month."