The leather of my chastity belt creaked as I adjusted myself, my own dick straining uselessly against its rigid cage. I’d paid top dollar for this—a luxury suite, and her. Sasha. A bombshell blonde escort with lips like a sin and tits that begged to be freed.

She arrived in a tight black dress, her platinum hair cascading over her shoulders. “So you’re the one who wants to serve,” she purred, her eyes dropping to the bulge in my pants—the belt, not me.

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice husky. “All I want is your pussy on my face.”

I helped her out of that dress, my fingers trembling as I revealed her milky skin. My mouth was on her immediately—sucking her neck, kissing down her sternum, taking a stiff nipple between my lips. She moaned, arching into me. I worshipped her tits, licking and nibbling, before sinking to my knees.

Her lace panties were damp already. I hooked my fingers into the sides and pulled them down slowly, revealing her clean-shaven cunt. Her pussy lips were swollen, glistening. I groaned, nuzzling my face into her heat, breathing in her musky scent.

“Use your hand first,” she commanded, spreading her legs wider.

I obeyed eagerly. I slid two fingers through her slick folds, feeling her clit harden under my thumb. I worked her pussy slowly, my fingers pumping in and out, listening to the wet, squelching sounds. Her juices coated my hand. She started to rock her hips, fucking my fist, her