simon riley call of duty ghosts

I swallowed nervously, but there was nothing else I could do. “Please, Ray...” I began, but at the tightening around her eyes I knew I'd made a mistake. “Please, Rachel... please give me your cock! Please, fuck me, Rachel! I want it! I want it so bad! I want your huge, thick eight inch cock up my ass!”

She squeezed the base of his cock even harder and redoubled her efforts, until a second later she felt his pulse raise to a crescendo, his cock pulsating in her hand. For a moment she thought nothing was else would happen, until the next pulse brought a hot shot of cum into the back of her throat. She pulled back a bit, until only the head of his cock was still in the vacuum seal of her lips. It spasmed again and even more hot sperm fired into her mouth, this time basting her tongue and her cheek. It jerked another time and then another and even more filled her mouth. It pulsated again a few more time, but with her tongue she could feel only a bit more dribble out the end of his cock.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.