I enter your place wearing a tight, black leather dress. Even if it wasn’t such a form-fitting outfit, you’d be able to tell that I’m not wearing a bra. There is nothing nonchalant about these tits. My tits defy gravity and the way they bounce forbids your brain from focusing elsewhere. From the moment you open the door, you know I’ve come over to seduce you. You know I can turn a conversation on a dime from casual banter to something that hardens your cock within seconds, but this time there is not going to be any flirtatious build up. I arrive on a mission, a mission to remind you how much you need me in your life. I sit you down on the couch and command you to sit up straight.

You look a bit like a deer in the headlights as you gaze at me. My tits are staring you back in the face. They are such a sexy and spectacular sight that your hand instinctively grips your cock. As you clench it tightly, you’re thanking holy God that you were born with the gift of eyesight, and you’re also salivating over the possible chance to suck on my magnificent mounds.

I know this is going through your mind like I knew that the sun would come up this morning. “Do you think you’re the first man I’ve ever seduced with these breathtaking breasts, my dear?” I ask rhetorically, mostly to confirm to you that I am indeed reading your mind. In fact, I’m doing more than reading it. I’m writing it. I’m taking you over so intensely that your thoughts are a dictation from me. And what I’m dictating now is that you want to suck on my tits so badly that you’d sign over your house to me.

I smirk at you when I see that you’ve put two and two together and understand that I’m actively brandishing my power over you. You gladly submit and your mouth falls open. I walk close to you. You can smell my perfume. My nipples are erect, and you want so badly to take them between your lips. I bring the spout of a bottle of cold water to your lips. “Take a sip, babe. I want your mouth nice and wet.”  I serve you the water like a mother would her baby. After I’m satisfied with how much you drink for me, I pull the bottle away from you, pouring the remainder of cold water onto my tits. You watch me as you feel your cock pulsating in your pants.

“Ashlee, can I please suck on them? Please?” you plead.

“Yes, babe,” I answer. “You may suck on them. I want you to suck. I want you to suck them now.” I inch closer to you, placing a hand beneath your chin and guide your mouth towards me. I whisper “Close your eyes and suckle me, sweetheart.”  You do as you’re told. I cradle your head with one hand and pet the top of your head with the other. I love feeling your tongue and lips move along each of my bodacious boobs, worshipping me with your mouth. You know I want my tits sucked. And you know that by pouring yourself into doing this, you are pleasing me. Doing what I want is reiterating that while you’re pleasing me, it ultimately pleases you even more.

You and I have a symbiotic relationship. You love the way I’m able to seduce you with my esoteric, eccentrically endless arsenal of edifying, exhilarating, exotically erotic encounters that effortlessly eradicate your pent up energy. Thus allowing you to embrace all of the extreme elements of elongated ecstasy that I eloquently and exclusively envelop your mind and erection with!

Some of the tools in my aforementioned arsenal are: My tits, my voice, how I read your mind, the way I move my body and of course… the way I, alone, “do it” for you!

And you repay me by submitting to my beguiling bevy of benevolence. Seeing you submit pleases me. And pleasing me makes you cum. This is the depiction of the dynamic between us. You’d do anything to suck on my sweet melons because of how you feel about me, not just because they’re the most tantalizing tits you could ever taste. You’d do anything to hear my voice, and not just because it’s the hottest and most sensual voice of any female you will ever hear. Because this is how we roll.

This is us. We’ve become closer as we’ve embraced this.

Call me, babe…

My tits need to be sucked.

Submission definitely does have its privileges.

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