The apartment was quiet, save for the soft sound of the harness straps tightening. I watched you kneel on the rug, your back straight, eyes down. You were so fucking pretty like that, waiting. Eager. I adjusted the black silicone cock, giving it a firm tap against my thigh. The sound made you flinch, a tiny, beautiful movement.
“Look at me,” I said, my voice low.
Your eyes lifted. They were wide, a little glassy already. You’d been thinking about this all day.
You swallowed. “I want your cock, Daddy.”
“My cock?” I took a step closer, the tip of the strap brushing your bottom lip. “You're pretty, desperate mouth is the reason I strapped it on. So tell me what you really want.”
A blush spread over your chest. “I want, I want to suck it. Please.”
I pushed forward, just enough to part your lips. “Then suck. Show me what a filthy cocksucker you are.”
You opened for me, taking the head into your hot mouth. Your tongue swirled around the tip immediately, a wet, practiced motion. Fuck. I let my head fall back for a second, savoring the sight. Your lips, stretched and glossy. Your throat working as you took me deeper.
“Good girl,” I breathed. “So fucking good. You were born for this, weren’t you? Born to be on your knees.”
You moaned around the fake cock, the vibration traveling straight through the harness and into my clit. I tangled my hand in your hair, not guiding, just holding. Owning. “That’s it. Take it deeper. I want to feel your throat give way.”
You gagged a little, tears springing to your eyes, but you didn’t pull back. You pushed forward, taking more, your nose pressing into my pelvis. My grip on your hair tightened. “Perfect. You’re so perfect like this. My perfect little slut.”
I pulled back, letting you gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the shining wet silicone. Your chest heaved. “Daddy, please,”
“Please what? Use your words.”
“I need more. I need you to fuck me.”
The raw need in your voice was a lightning strike to my core. “On the bed. On your back. Now.”
You scrambled up, falling onto the mattress, legs spread, cunt already glistening for me. I climbed over you, kneeling between your thighs. The sight of you, wrecked from just a little face-fucking, pussy wet and open, was almost too much.
“Hands above your head,” I ordered. You obeyed, fingers curling into the headboard. I leaned down, my mouth hovering over yours. “You’re going to cum on my tongue first. Then you’re going to cum on this cock. And you’re going to thank me for both.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I lowered my mouth to your cunt and licked a slow, firm stripe from your hole to your clit.
You cried out, your hips bucking off the bed. Fuck, you tasted incredible. Salty, sweet, mine. I dove in, eating you like I was starving. My tongue fucked into your hole, then circled your clit, then flattened against your entire swollen pussy. I was messy, loud, nasty. The sounds of my mouth on you filled the room.
“Oh god, Daddy, right there, yes!” you whimpered, your thighs trembling around my head.
I sucked your clit into my mouth, applying a ruthless, steady pressure. I slid two fingers into your cunt, curling them up. You screamed, your back arching off the mattress. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my fucking face.”
Your body went rigid. A broken, sobbing gasp tore from your throat as you came, your cunt clamping down on my fingers, wetness gushing over my chin. I rode you through it, my tongue never stopping, drinking every drop.
When your spasms slowed to shivers, I pulled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I looked at you, utterly ruined, chest flushed, eyes unfocused. “Good. Now for the main event.”
I positioned the head of the strap at your soaked entrance. I pushed in, just an inch. You were so warm, so fucking tight around the foreign object. “Look at me,” I growled.
Your dazed eyes found mine.
“Who does this pussy belong to?”
“You, Daddy. It’s yours.”
I slammed the rest of the way in, burying the cock to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
The air left your lungs in a whoosh. Your mouth formed a silent ‘O’.
I didn’t give you time to adjust. I pulled out and drove back in, setting a punishing rhythm. The bed rocked with the force of it. The slap of skin, the wet sound of my cock fucking into your greedy cunt, my own grunts of effort, it was a symphony.
“You take this fake cock so well,” I panted, leaning over you, my voice in your ear. “My perfect, desperate little fucktoy. Is this what you needed? To be used? To be ruined?”
“Yes! God, yes, Daddy! Fuck me! Ruin me!” you chanted, your nails digging into the headboard.
I hooked one of your legs over my shoulder, changing the angle. The next thrust made you see stars; I saw it in the way your eyes rolled back. I was hitting a spot deep inside you that had you babbling.
“You’re, ah!, so good at this! You were born to fuck me!” you cried out, the praise tumbling from your lips between moans. Then, your voice dropped to a wrecked whisper, “Your stupid little cocksleeve, fuck your stupid little cocksleeve harder!”
The verbal whiplash, the submission in your degradation, sent a fresh jolt of heat through me. I fucked you harder, deeper, my own pleasure coiling tight from the friction of the harness base.
“You feel that?” I grunted, my rhythm becoming erratic, frantic. “You feel how deep I am? I’m rearranging your insides. Making this cunt remember this cock long after I’m done.”
“I’m gonna cum! Daddy, I’m gonna cum again, please!”
“Do it. Cum all over this fucking toy. Show me what a good girl you are.”
Your second orgasm hit you like a train. Your cunt clenched around the silicone in violent, rippling pulses, a fresh flood of wetness soaking the sheets beneath you. You screamed, a raw, beautiful sound of total surrender.
I fucked you through it, until your body went completely limp, boneless beneath me. Only then did I still, the fake cock buried inside you, both of us breathing like we’d run a marathon.
I looked down at you. Tears tracked from the corners of your eyes into your hair. Your lips were swollen. You were completely, utterly ruined.
A slow smile spread across my face. “Beautiful,” I whispered, brushing the hair from your forehead. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
You could only manage a weak, spent moan in response.
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