VIXEN She loves being in control

Title: A Brunette’s Juicy Control Fantasy

In the sultry Italian countryside, the air thrummed with the mingled scent of ripe figs and sex. fertility and pleasure wafted on the breeze. At the heart of a secluded vineyard, a ravishing brunette reclined, the very picture of control – the delectable, black-haired ruin of Antonio.

She was Carina, the matrizarch of the household, and she had been craving Antonio’s pliant form for weeks. As he tended the vines, she watched from her balcony, licking her juicy lips as she fantasized about bending the strapping farmhand to her will…

Mentally stripping shy Antonio, Carina imagined taking his thick cock into her small hand, stroking it to full mast. She’d make him moan and lose control, surrender his tight grip on the tiller, force him instead to intimately tend to her fiery loins.

Fantasizing, she pinched her large, dusky nipples through her sheer blouse, making them stiffen and poke against the fabric. Juices gathered beneath her billowing skirt, wetting her black silk panties. It was time to make her naughty dream a reality.

Carina descended to the gardens like a goddess, her every step a seductive sway. Antonio looked up guiltily, mentally admonishing himself for staring too long at the sensual Mrs. Luciati. His hands trembled on the shovel.

But Carina had him exactly where she wanted him. She sidled up beguilingly, reached out to Kyle other brush dust from his hairy chest. “Call me crazy, but your ripeness entices me, Antonio,” she purred in Italian. “The same scent perfumes the figs.”

Antonio’s eyes went wide as his member swelled under his faded jeans. Carina smirked, trailing her hand lower, over his hard stomach to the button of his fly. She popped it open languidly.

A groan escaped Antonio as she slid her palm inside his boxers, grasping his length. His hips bucked reflexively. “Told you, I love being in control,” Carina cooed. She pushed him down into the dirt, straddling him.

Countless fantasies had prepared Carina for that delicious moment when she first felt the hot throb of Antonio’s manhood against her bare sex. He was all hers now, this strong, silent colt, his cock complete slavery to her cunt.

She shoved her panties aside and sank down on his shaft to the hilt. “Control” stopped being a filthy abstraction the second Antonio hil and noticed their joining was complete, his engorged cock buried to the balls in the raging heat that was her pussy.

Carina rode him hard, making his full, low tengo vibrate with every forceful thrust of her round hips. “Control” was in moaned whimpers and sucked-in breaths, white-knuckled gripping of the soil, the sheen of sweat as she whipped her own hair back and pounded her bald slit up and down his impaling inches.

“Control” was how Antonio had neither the will nor strength to resist the pulsing tightness gripping his dick, its slick suction drawing the thick muscles of his cock like a vacuum. “control” was how Carina’s fingers on his chest kept him flat, submitting to her all-consuming mounts while beads of pearly sweat rolled down his heaving pectorals.

“Control” was lacking the vocabulary to say anything but Signorina’s name as thick, musky cock she’d satisfied for weeks pulsed wildly, rewarding her vengeance with blast upon blast of his hot essence. Control was being the recipient, the recharge-all, at the mercy of the pussy in the saddle.

“Control” was losing one’s mind as his pulsing seed was milked into her pussy again and again, as she rippling transferred every ounce of her climax to his member, carving her orgasm into his cock’s very memory.

“Control” was being left dazed in the dirt, the world spinning, wondering how one’s reputation as virile and macho could survive giving no less than seven roped creampie loads to the back of a riding brunette’s forceful cunt…

Antonio scooped the darkened soil near Carina’s full, black wetness as her pussy relaxed and rippled to milk a final blast from his still-throbbing cock. She dismounted majestically, leaving him panting, empty, and dripping.

“Do you understand control now, Antonio?” Her dark eyes drank in the sight of his wrecked, satisfied cock.

“I…yes, Signorina,” he choked out.

Carina picked up her skirt again, ready to stroll past him as if their coupling hadn’t just shattered Antonio to any fantasies of being in control. She paused, cocked an eyebrow. “Be prepared,” she said. “control can be insatiable.” Then she ascended to her balcony again like a cat, tremendously satisfied in his work.

Though Antonio lay there limp and shared, weary in the dirt, his mind was already fantasizing in utter submissiveness about giving Carina every. thing. her ravenous pussy demanded next. As always, the usa love of control always got exactly what she wanted.