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Jun 6

Devotion, Submission, Absolution - Part 1

Irene x male reader.

Tags: femdom, mommy kink, messy kissing, boot kink, creampie.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: Irene's comeback fic, finally. I could not choose one outfit of Irene that I liked the best, so I wrote four separate fics inspired by four different outfits that she wore for music shows/performances. This is the first part, containing two fics with somewhat similar themes. Scroll down a bit for the second one.

“You want mommy to take care of you?

My voice shook a bit, a mix of nervousness and excitement. Mostly excitement.

“Yes, mommy.”

“Then take your pants off, baby.”

Irene’s outfit for today’s Biggest Fan Music Core stage was one of my favorites. A white dress, adorned with laces that showed off her pretty shoulders, straight jet black hair contrasting her pale skin, and her light pink lips glossy and perfectly kissable. But somehow, her glasses were the draw for me today. On anyone else, it would have looked flimsy, but on Irene, it elevated her to heights of beauty only she could reach, lending her an air of authority. Or maybe, I just had a thing for glasses.

When I entered her waiting room at 4 in the morning, my eyes were heavy with sleep, my body lethargic, but my heart was buzzing with excitement. Irene was just getting the finishing touches on her makeup when I saw her reflection on the mirror, and it felt like a jolt of electricity passed through my entire body. Irene knew the effect she had on me just from my dumb expression when she matched my eyes through the mirror. Even if my face did not show my excitement, my bulge would have given it away to Irene anyway. There’s not much that she did not notice.

So, when Irene ordered me to take off my pants, my hands went straight to the button of my jeans, fumbling to undo the buttons. Irene enjoyed how eager and desperate I was, watching me through her glasses with a smirk. By the time I pulled my pants down to my knees, Irene was standing close to me. Too close, yet not close enough.

Her unique smell, something floral and light, hit my nose first. Then the amber. Then musk, her unique, perfectly enticing musk. I could not think of anything other than the goddess right in front of me, every ounce of my being screaming for Irene, my olfactory sense overwhelmed in just one moment. The rest were not far behind.

She stepped on my pants stuck to my knees, pulling them down to my feet. I immediately pulled my legs up, my lower body bare except for my underwear.

“Someone is eager, huh?” Irene softly rubbed the outline of my cock, already a bit wet from my leaking precum. Tugging on my waistband, she led me to the sofa at her waiting room.

“Lie down.”

I obeyed. Like the perfect little boytoy that I always strived to be.

Irene laid down beside me on the large sofa, her hand never letting go of the waistband, as if to tease, or to torment. Her perfect face was just beside mine; her warm, perfect body, dressed for the music show performance she was about to record, pushing against mine. Her perfect lips, lightly glossy and so, so kissable, whispered something to my ear.

“I just got my hair and makeup done and I don’t want to redo them again.” Irene tugged on the waistband of my underwear again, not quite touching my aching cock under the restraint of my clothing. “But I will let you taste my lipstick a bit. Everything else is off limits for now. Deal?” She concluded her offer by sucking on my earlobe softly, making a shiver run through my spine just from the sensation of her lips on my skin.

“Deal.”

Irene’s eyes sparkled behind those delicate glasses as she smiled, that knowing, dominant little curve of her lips. She shifted closer on the sofa, her lace-gloved hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of my underwear. I could feel the lace fabric brush against my skin as she slowly dragged it over my thighs, freeing my throbbing cock. It sprang out, heavy, the head smeared with precum already, the cool air of the waiting room brushing over the sensitive head and making me twitch.

Irene didn’t wait anymore. Her mouth found mine in a deep, claiming kiss, her glossy lips pressing firmly against me as she took complete control. The taste of her lipstick was sweet and faintly fruity, mixing with the warmth of her breath as her tongue pushed past my lips immediately, without hesitation. The kiss was sloppy right from the start, exactly how she liked it; wet and noisy and utterly consuming. The soft, slick sounds of our mouths moving together filled the quiet room, Irene’s tongue swirling around mine, sucking gently at first, then more demandingly. I moaned into her mouth as her lace-covered fingers wrapped around the base of my cock.

The texture of the lace was unlike anything I had felt before; slightly rough, delicate yet firm, a delicious contrast against the hot, sensitive skin of my cock. Irene stroked slowly at first, from base to tip, her grip confident and teasing. My precum was already flowing freely, coating her gloved hand in shiny streaks that made every glide smoother, wetter, better. The lewd, slick sounds of her hand pumping me mixed perfectly with the wet sounds of our sloppy makeout.

“Mmmph…” I groaned against her lips, my hips bucking instinctively.

Irene pulled back from the kiss just enough to whisper hotly against my mouth, her breath mingling with mine. “Stay still, baby. Don’t move. You don’t get to touch mommy right now. Just feel what I’m doing to you.” Her voice was low and husky with arousal, the authority in it sending another shiver down my spine.

Irene dove back in, kissing me harder, her tongue exploring every inch of my mouth while her hand worked my cock, making me feel her perfect rhythm. Up and down, twisting slightly at the head, her thumb brushing over the sensitive slit and spreading more precum. The lace dragged deliciously, catching just enough to create that addictive friction. My balls tightened as pleasure built quickly, her body pressed warmly against my side, her breasts pressing against my torso under her white dress.

The kisses grew even sloppier. Saliva coated my chin as Irene sucked on my tongue, then my lower lip, biting it gently and lapping at it with her tongue to soothe it. Noisy, wet pops echoed each time she pulled back for air only to crash back in. “That’s it… such a good boy for mommy,” Irene murmured between kisses, her hand never stopping its relentless stroking.

I was panting into her mouth, my whole body trembling with the effort to stay still like she ordered. Irene’s grip tightened, focusing on the head for a few torturous pumps before sliding back down to the base, squeezing there. More precum leaked out in thick beads, dripping down her fingers and onto my stomach, making everything messier.

Irene moaned softly into the kiss, a sweet, breathy sound that engulfed my auditory sense. She enjoyed this power she had over me, the way she could reduce me to a whimpering mess while staying perfectly composed in her stage outfit. Her free hand rested on my chest, not letting me touch her, just holding me down gently as a reminder.

“Mommy… feels so good,” I gasped when she briefly broke the kiss to let me breathe.

“I know, baby. Look at how much you’re leaking for me.” Irene glanced down briefly, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose, before capturing my mouth again. Her tongue fucked into my mouth in time with deep, rhythmic strokes on my cock, dominating me completely. The floral scent of her perfume mixed with the faint musk of her skin and the growing smell of sex and spit in the air, anyone entering the waiting room later would immediately realize what had happened.

Irene’s lace glove was now completely slick, gliding effortlessly as she jerked me faster. She twisted her wrist on every upstroke, focusing on that sensitive spot under the head until my moans turned into desperate, broken whimpers swallowed by her kisses. The sofa creaked faintly beneath us with the subtle movements of her arm.

“Shhh, just enjoy it,” Irene whispered again, sucking on my tongue. “No touching. You’re mine to play with right now.”

My cock throbbed in her grip, veins pulsing against the lace. Every stroke was louder now, wetter, the precum flowing so much it coated her glove and dripped in strings onto the base of my cock. Irene’s breathing grew heavier too, her breasts pressing against my arm harder as she leaned in closer, her kisses turning frantic with messy licks, gentle bites, and deep suction that left my lips swollen and tingling and hungry.

I could feel my orgasm approaching like an unblockable tide. “Mommy, I’m close…” “Good boy. Cum for mommy. Let it all out on my pretty glove,” Irene purred against my lips before kissing me even deeper, her lips sucking my tongue completely as her hand sped up.

My orgasm jerked my body hard. I cried out into her mouth, my body tensing, toes curled, as thick strings of cum shot upwards from my cock. The first spurt landed across her lace-covered fingers, coating the delicate, white fabric in more white. More followed, splashing onto my stomach in warm streaks, some hitting her wrist as she kept stroking me through it, milking every drop. The sensation of the slick, cum-covered lace continuing to glide over my sensitive cock made me shudder and moan loudly, the sound muffled by her relentless kissing.

Irene didn’t stop right away. She slowed her hand but kept pumping gently, drawing out the aftershocks and sending shivers through my body again and again as she kissed me softer now, slower, savoring the taste of my desperation. Wet, sticky sounds filled the space between us as her gloved fingers played with the mess she’d made, spreading my cum over my skin and her lace.

“Mmm… such a big load for mommy,” Irene whispered, her voice laced with lust and satisfaction. She finally pulled her hand away, holding it up slightly so we could both see the way my cum glistened on the white lace. Then she brought her lips back to mine for another deep, lazy kiss, her tongue sliding against mine as if rewarding me. “You did so well staying still. Look at the mess you made… all over mommy’s pretty glove.”

My body buzzed with pleasure, the room feeling warmer now, mixed with the scent of my release and her perfume. Irene kept her body pressed against mine, her body heat seeping through her dress. She softly kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then peppered my face with kisses as a gesture of appreciation for my complete submission.

But Irene wasn’t done teasing. Her cum-slick gloved fingers traced lazy patterns on the base of my cock and my stomach, collecting more of my cum before she brought them closer to my face. “See what you did? Maybe at the next music stage, mommy will let you do more… but for now, this is all you get.”

Irene leaned in again, capturing my lips in another slow, sloppy kiss. Her tongue explored lazily, her lipstick completely ruined now as it had stained my face with soft marks already. I moaned softly, still sensitive and spent, but utterly addicted to her control.

The lace of her glove rested lightly on my thigh now, warm and sticky, a delicious reminder of what she’d done to me. All the blood in my body rushed to my cock again, making it hard and slick and ready.

Irene’s soft laughter shot right at my heart, and my cock. “My eager little boytoy… already getting hard again just from my lips? We still have time before the stage recording. Maybe mommy will have to take care of you one more time…”

Irene deepened the kiss once more, her hand sliding back toward my cock, lace still slick with my cum, more pleasure waiting for me through her gentle but firm dominance. The wet, noisy sounds of our mouths resumed, filling the waiting room as her fingers began their teasing strokes again, slow and deliberate, as I kept moaning her name again and again, against her lips.

I felt every sensation at a heightened state; her breasts pressing against my arm and chest, the delicate scratch of lace on the oversensitive skin of my cock, the sweet taste of her lips, the soft authoritative whispers between kisses reminding me to stay still and let mommy handle everything. Time seemed to stretch and shrink as Irene kept me on the edge with her expert hands and mouth. She was building me up again with patient, loving cruelty, using my insatiable craving for her lips to push me towards my orgasm yet again.

Irene’s glasses pressed lightly against my cheek as she tilted her head for a better angle, tongue swirling deeper. “Good boy… just like that. Let mommy make you feel heaven.” The words melted into another messy, saliva-coated kiss, her hand never stopping its slick, rhythmic work.

The minutes blurred into a haze of pleasure, moans, and her complete control. By the time Irene finally coaxed a second, weaker but still intense orgasm from me, my stomach and her glove were even messier, and my mind was filled with nothing but Irene; her scent, her taste, her voice, and the overwhelming feeling of being utterly hers.

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“Kneel.”

The heel of Irene’s black knee high leather boot on her right leg pressed on my naked chest, almost pushing me off my balance as I knelt.

“Why do you think you deserve to worship me?”

“Because I am your biggest fan?”

“You are not, but that’s okay. Mommy likes you.”

Irene pushed her heel harder, almost boring into my chest now. I did not falter. Instead, I looked up at her ruthless, devastatingly beautiful face; my back straight, putting all of my strength to stabilize myself. For someone as tiny as Irene, she always was freakishly strong, and I relished the sensation of her sharp heel on my skin, the physical pain contradicting the mental pleasure, my cock straining my underwear. My hands went up to caress her leg, touching the dark, cold leather of her boots.

“You haven’t earned touching mommy yet. Be a good boy and I will let you. Hands behind your back.” Irene’s voice was low, huskier than usual; the authoritative voice that could shush thousands of shouting Reveluvs in a moment.

I immediately put my hands back, letting myself submit to my goddess more and more. Irene’s eyes lingered on my face all the while, her eyes intense, filled with a domineering sense of lust. She pushed her heel higher on my skin, now onto my shoulder, her skirt rising up higher onto her waist. I tore my eyes off of her face and looked at the glimpse of heaven right in front of me, between her legs.

“Mommy is not wearing anything under her skirt. Can you smell how wet I am?” Irene’s voice was almost whispering, letting me hang onto her every word as I looked at her naked pussy under her raised skirt. All within my reach, if I just defied her and leaned forward, but I did not. Instead, I inhaled hard, taking in Irene’s unique musk that got intensified when she was aroused.

“I can, mommy. Can I taste you?” My voice shook as I asked to please my goddess, my hands restrained at the expectation of being rewarded.

“I don’t know baby, can you? You can just take what’s right in front of you, instead, you are asking me for a command.” Irene’s heel pushed harder onto my shoulder, making me fall on my back from my kneeling position. As I lay down on the cold, hard floor on my back, her boot was on my cheek now, caressing. It moved to my jaw next, then pressed softly on my throat, and then made its way to my lips. “Taste.”

My tongue lapped at the black leather of her boot, drawing long licks from the pointed toe to the sharp heel. Like a good boy, I kissed her boot all over, softly licking and occasionally sucking on the dark leather, my hands fully immobile. Irene let out a soft moan, her effortless restraint faltering a bit; as she became more aroused at my pure submission, me emulating on her boots what I would do to her wet cunt. My cock was fully hard, almost painful at how it was being denied of stretching fully, pushing against the confines of my underwear.

I stayed on my back on the cold floor, my tongue gliding reverently over the smooth leather of Irene's right boot. The bottom of her pointed toe pressed on my temple, the heel resting on my jaw; as she trampled on my face a little, her face contorted with a cruel satisfaction at inflicting pain on someone as willing as I. Irene gazed down at me with her sharp, beautiful eyes, her pale skin glowing under the dim lights, full lips parted in a smirk that was equal parts regal as it was deviant.

"Good boy," she purred, her voice sounding satisfied, yet greedy. "But Mommy has two boots. You don't get to neglect one. Worship me equally, or I will make you watch me pleasure myself without you."

I nodded eagerly, my cock throbbing painfully in my underwear, a wet spot already forming from precum. Irene stepped over me with graceful authority, her black leather boots planting firmly on either side of my head. She towered above me now, skirt still hiked high around her slim waist, revealing the glistening pink folds of her bare pussy. I felt dazed and hypnotized looking at her smooth, puffy lips slick with arousal, her clit peeking out like a pearl with arousal, demanding attention. I inhaled deeply yet again, her musky, sweet scent filling my lungs, intoxicating me.

"Look at mommy's pretty pussy while you worship her boots," Irene commanded, lowering herself over me in a squat so her pussy hovered inches above my nose and mouth. "Smell what you are doing to mommy as you lick the other boot. Slowly. Make love to it with your tongue like the desperate fan you are."

I turned my head to my side, extending my tongue to the left boot. The leather was warm from her body heat, cool and unyielding under my lips. I started at the heel, tracing its sharp edge with long, worshipful licks, then moved up the shaft, kissing every inch. Irene’s thighs flexed, toned and flawless, as she sat on my chest; her pert, round ass making contact with my skin. She was so fucking tiny, but her legs seemed endless in those boots.

"Mmm, that's it," she moaned softly, grinding her hips in a slow circle on my chest, slobbering her wetness all over my bare skin. "You're making Mommy's pussy drip even more, all shiny and ready. But you don't get to taste it until I say so. Keep licking. Suck on the heel like it's my clit."

The unmatched authority in her voice made me obey instantly, as I wrapped my lips around the stiletto heel and sucked it deep into my mouth, bobbing my head as if it were her clit. My eyes never left her bare cunt, the lips swollen and parting slightly with each subtle movement. Irene's fingers trailed down her own body, teasingly brushing near her pussy but not touching, denying herself as much as she denied me. Her long dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, framing that flawless face as her eyes were half-lidded in pleasure and cheeks flushed with arousal.

After what felt like an eternity of boot worship, Irene pressed her left boot against my face one last time. She opened her legs wide sitting on my chest, showing off her perfect pussy to me. "Enough. You've been such a patient little toy. Now, you'll get to worship my pussy properly. Mommy’s going to sit on your face."

Irene dragged her pussy over my chest to my face, then lifted herself up to place her tight little cunt right on my lips, her round asscheeks resting on my neck. Her skirt draped over my forehead, but her bare, soaking cunt pressed directly against my mouth and nose. The wet heat was intense, her slick folds smothering me in the most heavenly way. I could barely breathe, but I didn't care; this was paradise.

"Lick," she ordered, her voice laced with unparalleled authority. She rocked slowly, grinding her pussy against my tongue. I obeyed, dragging my flat tongue from her entrance up to her clit in long, deliberate strokes. She tasted divine, the way only someone like Irene could; salty-sweet nectar that I lapped up greedily. Her thighs clamped around my head, her boot heels pressed firmly on the floor beside me for balance. "Deeper now, baby. Fuck Mommy with that tongue. Show me how much you adore your goddess."

I plunged my tongue inside her tight pussy, thrusting in and out as she rode my face with increasing fervor. Irene’s juices coated my chin, my cheeks, dripping down my neck, and I could not get enough of the taste. I could feel her clit swelling against my nose as she shifted forward, using me like a living toy. Her moans grew louder, that perpetually calm voice now moaning soft, breathy whimpers that contrasted her ruthless control.

Irene's beauty in this moment was transcendent. From below, I caught glimpses of those perfect breasts straining against her top whenever her skirt moved off of my forehead. She was fully dressed except for the hiked skirt, the contrast of her elegant MV outfit against her raw, dripping arousal was driving me insane. My cock strained desperately, untouched and leaking, as my hands were still immobile.

"That's my good boy," she gasped, grinding harder. "Suck on my clit now. Gently… yes, like that."

I sealed my lips around her swollen nub, sucking rhythmically while my tongue flicked rapidly. Irene's body tensed, her hands gripping my hair as she fucked my face. Her first orgasm hit; her thighs quivering, a gush of fresh wetness flooding my mouth as she cried out my name. She didn't stop moving, riding out the rolling spasms of her orgasm, using my tongue to prolong her pleasure.

But Irene wasn't done. "Again," she demanded breathlessly. "I want to squirt on your pretty face."

I redoubled my efforts, driven by the singular desire to please Irene better. My tongue thrust deep into her pussy made much wetter with her orgasm, curling and stroking along her slick inner walls with frantic hunger. I alternated with sealing my lips tightly around her swollen clit, sucking with rhythmic, pulsing pressure firm enough to make her thighs tremble yet gentle enough to draw out those broken, melodic whimpers from her perfect lips. My nose pressed firmly against her mound, inhaling her intoxicating scent with every restricted breath.

Irene’s hips began to lose their controlled rhythm on my mouth. The graceful, commanding rolls turned erratic and wild, her small, powerful body bucking against my mouth as if chasing every spark of pleasure I could give. Her toned thighs squeezed harder around my head, the smooth leather of her boots brushing against my ears and temples with each frantic movement. One of her hands fisted tightly in my hair, nails scraping my scalp as she held me smothered beneath her dripping pussy.

Irene’s second orgasm built fast. Her entire body began to shake uncontrollably on top of me. The hot walls of her pussy spasmed wildly around my tongue, pulsing and rippling in powerful contractions. A fresh gush of her arousal flooded my mouth, but this time it was stronger, hotter, better. Irene’s hips stuttered, then slammed down hard on my face as the climax crashed through her.

Irene came hard; with a sharp, broken moan, her pussy squirted hot, clear fluid forcefully across my face in pulsing jets, splashing over my lips, tongue and nose. It filled my mouth instantly, sweet and slightly tangy, dripping down my chin and neck. I drank greedily, swallowing as much of her essence as I could, still frantically licking and sucking to prolong her pleasure.

Irene kept riding my face with selfish abandon, using my tongue and lips to wring out every last tremor of her orgasm. Soft, breathy aftershocks kept escaping her lips, music to my ears, as there was nothing like her husky voice moaning in pleasure that I gave her.

My cock throbbed painfully against the confines of my underwear, leaking steadily, aching for any kind of relief from the moment Irene pushed her boot on my chest. Every pulse of her squirting orgasm sent fresh waves of denied need surging through me, but I didn’t dare move my hands from my sides. I existed only to serve the goddess pleasure.

Irene’s movements slowed to lazy, lingering grinds, smearing her soaked pussy and the remnants of her squirt across my face as she finally caught her breath. She looked down at me with heavy-lidded, lust-drunk eyes; utterly dominant, devastatingly beautiful, even more so in her post-orgasmic glow. A slow, satisfied smirk curved her lips as she took in the mess she had made of me. She stroked my hair wet with sweat almost tenderly. "You worshipped mommy so well, baby. Now, as your reward…"

Irene lifted off my face, standing tall above me once more. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from biting them, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and lingering dominance. She looked like the goddess of sex; flawless skin flushed red and dewy with sweat, that tiny yet powerful frame radiating absolute control. Reaching down, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my underwear and slowly pulled it down, finally freeing my aching, hard cock. It sprang up, thick and veined, throbbing in the cool air, the head purple and covered in precum.

"Look at how hard you are for me," Irene purred, wrapping one delicate hand around the base and giving a single, teasing stroke. "Mommy's going to ride you now. But your hands stay on my boots only. No touching my tits, no grabbing my ass. You hold onto your goddess's boots like the good boy you are. Understood?"

"Yes, mommy," I groaned, my voice hoarse from licking her boots and pussy endlessly.

Irene straddled me, her boots planted firmly on the floor beside my hips. She hiked her skirt again, higher this time, exposing her dripping pussy hovering just above my cock. With one hand, she guided the head to her entrance, rubbing it teasingly through her wet folds made slick from multiple orgasms. "Beg for it."

"Please, mommy… let me inside you. I need to feel your perfect pussy on my cock again."

Irene smiled that maniacally beautiful smile, her mouth curving into a smirk, and sank down slowly. Inch by inch, her tight, wet heat engulfed my cock, feeling every curve and ridges of her pussy. I gasped at the sensation as her pussy was still pulsing softly from her orgasms. Fully seated, Irene let out a satisfied sigh, her clit pressed against my pelvis.

"Hold my boots," Irene ordered.

My fingers wrapped around the cool, smooth leather of her knee-high boots, gripping the shafts tightly just below her knees. Irene knew that this position would keep me submissive; arms extended, completely under her control. She began to ride me with deliberate, powerful movements as she rose up until just the tip remained inside, then slammed back down, her ass slapping against my thighs in delicious smacks.

My brain was hazy, witnessing Irene fucking herself on my cock. Her body moved with a dancer’s grace, breasts bouncing slightly under her top, hair swaying. Her face—God, her face, was a vision of dominant ecstasy; lips parted, eyes locked on mine, her flawless beauty twisted in pleasure she dictated every step of the way. Each downward thrust sent waves of ecstasy through me, her pussy clenching rhythmically, milking my cock.

"Faster, Mommy?" I dared to whisper, but she immediately slowed, teasing.

"No. Mommy sets the pace." Irene started rolling her hips in slow, grinding circles, stirring my cock deep inside her. The wet sounds of our fucking filled the room. Her continuously dripping arousal coated my cock fully and dripped down my balls. She leaned forward slightly, one hand bracing on my chest, the other in her hair, looking every bit the untouchable idol turned personal dominatrix.

Irene picked up speed gradually, bouncing harder, as I grabbed onto her boots tighter. I could feel every ridge inside her cunt, the way her pussy fluttered and squeezed my cock. "You're filling Mommy so well," she moaned. "Such a thick, good cock for your goddess."

My hands kneaded the boots, feeling the sharp heels and supple material all over as she rode me relentlessly. The denial of touching anywhere else only heightened everything else; the focus on her control, her beauty, her wetness, her. Irene leaned back, hands on my thighs for leverage, giving me an even better view of her pussy devouring my length again and again, as her clit rubbed against me with every motion.

Time blurred as she used my body for her pleasure. Irene varied her rhythm from fast and shallow, then deep and grinding to edge me closer, but never letting me cum. Her moans grew breathier, another orgasm building for her. "Don't you dare cum yet," she warned, her voice maintaining authority still. "Mommy cums first… always."

She slammed down harder, her small frame shaking with effort, boots planted like anchors. Her third climax hit with a cry, pussy spasming wildly around me, but Irene didn't slow. She rode through it, overstimulating herself beautifully, chasing more pleasure as she pushed me towards my orgasm.

As I felt I was about to cum, Irene slowed to a torturous grind. She looked down at me, skin glowing with sweat, that ruthless beauty softened only slightly by constant pleasure. "Do you want to cum inside mommy? Tell me properly."

"Yes, mommy," I panted, voice breaking. "I want to cum inside you. Your pussy is my altar, and my cum is my offering to the goddess."

"Good boy. Fill your goddess. Give me everything." Irene resumed riding with renewed vigor, tight walls clenching my cock perfectly. My grip on her boots tightened as I reached my peak. I exploded deep inside her, my cum gushing into her pussy as my balls tightened and toes curled from being edged for so long. Irene milked every drop I could give, grinding down and clenching her pussy constantly, her own smaller orgasm following as she took my offering.

Irene stayed seated for a while afterwards, stroking my chest lightly, her pussy still fluttering around my softening cock. "You pleased mommy very well tonight," she whispered, voice low. "My biggest fan… or at least, the one I like best."

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