Show Me How Bad You Want It

“Show me,” I say. I look down at her and hold eye contact. She doesn’t look away.

She swallows. “Show you … what, Sir?”

“Show me,” I say again, nudging her cunt with my boot. She’s straddling it, my right boot, the tall knee-high Wescos I got out just for this occasion. Pressing her wet pussy into the leather. “How wet you are.”

She whimpers a little. Both her hands are holding my calf, and she’s on her knees. Her short purple skirt pools around her and I can see her thick thighs, striped red with cane marks that will hopefully be darker tomorrow. Her chest is bare; her little tank top with the thin criss-cross straps is on the floor somewhere, and her tits are so perfect, the curve of them, the shape, the swell, and her pretty hard nipples make my mouth water. She’s already been rocking her hips to rub her clit against the steel toe of my boot, but she shifts her weight into her legs more and starts making bigger movements.

I can feel when she gets just the right spot so her lips open and her wetness slicks my boot; now she glides back and forth even easier. Fuck.

“That’s good. Mmm, very nice. You were already grinding against me, but now it’s so, so wet. Are you dripping for me, dirty girl?”

She whimpers again. “Mm hmm,” she half moans, her eyes closed.

I reach down and grip her hair, and touch my...