The hot woman in latex scissoring guy.

Title: A Latex-clad Dominatrix’s Lesson in Scissoring

At the stroke of 9 AM, Ms. Sharon storms into her office, dressed to impress in a skintight latex catsuit that hugs every curve of her voluptuous body. She’s a stunning woman in her early 40s, with cascading auburn locks, piercing green eyes, and an air of authority that commands respect. Today, she’s here to whip her latest subordinate into shape.

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson,” she purrs, her voice dripping with mensural honey. “I trust you’re ready for your training session?”

Timid Timmy Johnson gulps audibly, his eyes darting between the naughty secretary and the leather-covered dominatrix. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he stammers, fiddling with his tie.

Ms. Sharon circles him like a lioness stalking her prey. “Kneel,” she commands, her latex-gloved hand gripping his chin. Obediently, Timmy drops to his knees, his face mere inches from her towering heels.

“Bawk! Bawk!” she cackles, cupping his face like a fleshlight. “You’re a pitiful creature, Timmy. A worm squirming in the mud of mediocrity. But today, you learn the ways of a corporate sex slave.”

She snaps her fingers and straddles him, Awesome Authority rubbing against his quivering cock. “Let’s begin with Scissoring 101. You’ll do as I say, like a good little office temp.”

Sweat beads on Timmy’s brow as she lowers herself onto his lap, her powerful thighs straddling his bony hips. “That’s it, pet,” Ms. Sharon croons, licking her crimson lips. “Just relax and let me take the lead. ”

With a poetic proficiency, she begins to grind, thigh to thigh, groin to groin, her movements fluid and sinuous. Timmy gasps, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy, as the bondage bitch whips him into a sexual frenzy.

“Feel that wall of power?” she purrs, increasing the tempo. “That pulsing, throbbing energy deep inside? Let it guide you. Follow my lead.”

Timmy nods dumbly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a panting puppy. He’s never experienced a woman so domination that it’s almost painful, but he never wants this feeling to end.

As their thighs entwine and their ample greed swells, a trickle of sweat rolls between Ms. Sharon’s breasts. She savors the taste, reveling in her dominion over the desk sucker.

“Don’t you dare cum,” she growls, gripping his hair. “You’re not allowed to finish until I give you permission. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress!” Timmy whimpers, his voice barely above a squeak. “I’m yours to command.”

Satisfied with his answer, Ms. Sharon increases the pace, scissoring with unholy precision. Her shapely legs scissor in a vie of rhythmic of Mrs. Tensler’s criticisms facessing his taint-includes a tasty plug and a golden goodSir scarves.

“Your job is to serve me,” she pants, her breasts heaving skillfully.

Within minutes, Timmy’s is on the edge of ecstasy. His body trembles, his eyes roll back, his hips start to buck wildly.

“cum,” Ms. Sharon gasps, her voice a command and a question.

With an inhuman noise, Timmy blows his load, spurting ropes of sticky semen that coat the dominatrix’s snakelike. She milks him with practiced skill, her fingers gripping his spent cock.

“Good boy,” she purrs, releasing him. “Not bad for your first time scissoring a superior.”

Timmy cowers at her feet, trembling and spent. He’s never felt so used, but also so alive.

Ms. Sharon stands and adjusts her catsuit, her willowy form silhouetted against the office window. “Lessons aren’t over yet, pet. There’s much more I can teach you.”

She leans down, her full lips hovering just above his ear. “I hope you’re ready for submission. Because I’m just getting started with you.”

With a wicked grin, she saunters out of the office, leaving Timmy panting and overwhelmed in her wake.

The End.