Randolph Mason
- 3 years ago
- 20
- 0
The Cunt And John Mason free porn video
He began walking up behind her slowly. His fingers trembled like lose leaves clinging to a limb in a breeze. He struggled to muffle the sound of his breath. She was within arms reach now. There, in front of him, she stood back turned towards him. She ga wave off a sweet and simultaneous putrid smell of expensive perfume and high class rich bitch. She'd made him stay late for the third time this month to file her paperwork and tell him what a worthless piece of lawyer shit he was. "You're pathetic, I don't see, can't see how you passed the bar exam with that community college law education".
John Mason truly hated his boss, and he was quite certain that she hated him too. Ever since passing the state bar exam and joining the legal team of Sanders and Sander law firm, Monica Sanders had been a complete cunt to him. No matter what he said or did she was a cunt. Win a case, she was a cunt. Find a new client with money? She was still a cunt. No matter what the scenario, his boss, his bitch of a boss Monica Sanders was ALWAYS a fucking dry cunt. Monica was the latter and lesser partner in Sanders & Sanders legal firm llc., and tonight...John Mason was fed the fuck up with her shit.
It was now or never. No, it was most definitely Now. Just as fast as the plan evolved in his head, his hands took quick action. He grabbed a heavy piece of glass that was carved and polished smooth into some indescribable twisted geo shape. He raised it slowly preparing to hit her when without warning she turned to face him. She let out a small snicker and then erupted into laughter. She stood there, laughing. She wasn't afraid. She looked him in the eyes."You weak lil boy. You want to hit a girl??" And more laughter."C'mon boy. You weak, pathetic, miserable little...boy." The words stung with each venom coated syllable that came from her red lips and sank beneath his ego. They slowly burned in his veins. His stomach grew hot with rage like he had swallowed red-.
hot steel ball bearings. He was temporarily stunned but soon regained his words. He looked her square in the eyes. Or at least, he tried. Monica Sanders stood a full six inches above John in her heels. "You." He began. "Are a filthy, abusive, priviliged, spoiled fucking CUNT!!." and there they stood, locked in an intent gaze. The emasculated man and the high class office cunt. "Fuck you." he snarled. "And fuck you too...BOY!!" The words were too much. John reached and grabbed her throat. " You WILL learn your place whore!!" Catching the wind in her breath mid neck so she could neither inhale nor exhale. All she could do was be obedient and choke. This was the game they played. As her eyes grew wide with genuine terror, her pussy began to quiver and her nipples grew stiff. She was close to blacking out, when her autonomic survival instinct kicked in. Johns powerful grip tightened around her throat. Monica's arms slapped at his thick wrist and strong muscular forearm. Her other hand was used to claw his face. Long deep scratches appeared across his face and then weeped blood. He screamed in agony. Then by her neck he dragged her across the office and slammed her hard face up on the desk. Her mother's desk. As she kicked and struggled the desk that generally stayed cluttered with legal briefings and books was cleared by her thrashing about. Monica swung wildly at him. She was still unable to free her throat from his death grip. He slammed her a few more times for effect then he spoke. "Be still. Don't fucking move." She froze instantly. John reached down with his free hand inside the zipper on his khakis. He began touching himself. He was aroused. And so was she. He'd loosened his grip now and was holding her in place, but she was no longer choking. She began caressing the same muscular forearm that previously threatened to extinguish her life. The hair on his forearm became ultra sensitive to her touch. All of his senses were on overload. He stroked himself to full erection inside his pants. Monica tenderly reached up and began to run her fingers through his hair, silently encouraging his inappropriate actions. Her voice barely audible above a whisper broke the sound of his deep breathing. "You're a failure, aren't you John?" He breathed heavier now and stroked himself harder. "You're just a weak little boy aren't you John?" John was close. He replied to her "Yes. I'm just a weak boy." Monica now sat up on the desk. She began to open her blouse. John removed his stiff swollen cock for her to see. Monica was now topless except for the expensive bra that prevented her massive mounds of breast flesh from spilling forth. A light sheen of sweat covered her silky skin and drove john insane with desire. John stroked himself and Monica watched in lustful disgust.
Monica began touching herself and her breast heaved as she pleasured herself. " I want to help you." She started. "I want to make you a real man ok?" "Please..." He whimpered. "Make me a man, make me over as you see fit. I submit." He watched intently. He focused on her fingers as they spread the lips to her small shaved pussy. He could smell her in the air. The aroma was intoxicating, the smell of a rich fucking cunt. He reached out to touch her breast. Suddenly she snapped. "Don't touch me weakling. Don't fucking touch me, not yet." There were moments when they reversed the scenario but tonight was hers and she intended to indulge her more baser desires, fully. She spread her legs open wider so John had a privileged view of her power over him. He stopped stroking himself now so as preserve his orgasm and crawled towards her as she sat exposed on the borrowed desk. He timidly asked for instruction from his mistress. One direction. "Serve". Monica kicked off one of her high heels and commanded his mouth to open. " You are no man. You are a weak...thing". Then she buried her toes deep inside his mouth. Way back to the opening of his throat. He gagged and a thick coating of spit, ran over her foot and fell in a puddle on the carpeting beneath him. Monica kicked his face off of her foot and yelled. "Disgusting pig!!!" She stood now towering over John who was kneeling before her. She dug her shoeless sole into the puddle of spit and told John to place his head on the floor. He obeyed. Her foot was slick and wet with his puke on it when she stepped firmly on the side of his face. Inches away, level with his eyes, was the remaining puddle of vomit for him to see. " Why would I let you touch me??!" she chided. "Why should I??" She fumed. John lay prone face down on the floor his dress shit soaked with sweat. His ass cheeks were exposed. A result of having been a nasty pervert that subjects women to his juvenile masturbation sessions. She left him that way for what seemed like a half hour. Silence again filled the room only to be shattered by the sound of sobs coming from the floor. John was crying pitifully. He murmed a few barely audible words, "I'm so weak, help me...". "Fucking pathetic, you beg like a bitch." Rolling him over onto his back with her foot she looked down upon John's hairless, firm and chiseled body. She didn't say a word. She knew the message her glare delivered. "Go ahead, play with your toy...or I will take it from you. Play with it!!!" As he again began to stroke his cock, Monica positioned herself over him. A yellow stream of piss erupted from her pussy and ran everywhere over John. He closed his eyes and pumped his fist over his swollen cock letting the piss wash away all his feelings of inadequacy and weakness. Then he came hard like the loud crash of thunder. For a moment after, he lay there on the floor, silent. Content. He truly had wanted to fuck Monica. He had longed to feel himself erupt and spill inside of her pussy. But it was not in her game design. Not on this occasion. He slowly rose from the floor and went to press his body close to hers. They stared silently into each other's eyes and communicated through their senses. They retreated to her mother's private office shower where they stood under the hot water holding each other for an hour. In the morning, things would return to normal. Monica would go back to being a cunt. And John would return to being just her little lost step-brother, fresh out of college and working his first shit job as a mail room clerk in his step- mom's law firm. This was the game they played. This was the game they loved.
The End.
John Mason truly hated his boss, and he was quite certain that she hated him too. Ever since passing the state bar exam and joining the legal team of Sanders and Sander law firm, Monica Sanders had been a complete cunt to him. No matter what he said or did she was a cunt. Win a case, she was a cunt. Find a new client with money? She was still a cunt. No matter what the scenario, his boss, his bitch of a boss Monica Sanders was ALWAYS a fucking dry cunt. Monica was the latter and lesser partner in Sanders & Sanders legal firm llc., and tonight...John Mason was fed the fuck up with her shit.
It was now or never. No, it was most definitely Now. Just as fast as the plan evolved in his head, his hands took quick action. He grabbed a heavy piece of glass that was carved and polished smooth into some indescribable twisted geo shape. He raised it slowly preparing to hit her when without warning she turned to face him. She let out a small snicker and then erupted into laughter. She stood there, laughing. She wasn't afraid. She looked him in the eyes."You weak lil boy. You want to hit a girl??" And more laughter."C'mon boy. You weak, pathetic, miserable little...boy." The words stung with each venom coated syllable that came from her red lips and sank beneath his ego. They slowly burned in his veins. His stomach grew hot with rage like he had swallowed red-.
hot steel ball bearings. He was temporarily stunned but soon regained his words. He looked her square in the eyes. Or at least, he tried. Monica Sanders stood a full six inches above John in her heels. "You." He began. "Are a filthy, abusive, priviliged, spoiled fucking CUNT!!." and there they stood, locked in an intent gaze. The emasculated man and the high class office cunt. "Fuck you." he snarled. "And fuck you too...BOY!!" The words were too much. John reached and grabbed her throat. " You WILL learn your place whore!!" Catching the wind in her breath mid neck so she could neither inhale nor exhale. All she could do was be obedient and choke. This was the game they played. As her eyes grew wide with genuine terror, her pussy began to quiver and her nipples grew stiff. She was close to blacking out, when her autonomic survival instinct kicked in. Johns powerful grip tightened around her throat. Monica's arms slapped at his thick wrist and strong muscular forearm. Her other hand was used to claw his face. Long deep scratches appeared across his face and then weeped blood. He screamed in agony. Then by her neck he dragged her across the office and slammed her hard face up on the desk. Her mother's desk. As she kicked and struggled the desk that generally stayed cluttered with legal briefings and books was cleared by her thrashing about. Monica swung wildly at him. She was still unable to free her throat from his death grip. He slammed her a few more times for effect then he spoke. "Be still. Don't fucking move." She froze instantly. John reached down with his free hand inside the zipper on his khakis. He began touching himself. He was aroused. And so was she. He'd loosened his grip now and was holding her in place, but she was no longer choking. She began caressing the same muscular forearm that previously threatened to extinguish her life. The hair on his forearm became ultra sensitive to her touch. All of his senses were on overload. He stroked himself to full erection inside his pants. Monica tenderly reached up and began to run her fingers through his hair, silently encouraging his inappropriate actions. Her voice barely audible above a whisper broke the sound of his deep breathing. "You're a failure, aren't you John?" He breathed heavier now and stroked himself harder. "You're just a weak little boy aren't you John?" John was close. He replied to her "Yes. I'm just a weak boy." Monica now sat up on the desk. She began to open her blouse. John removed his stiff swollen cock for her to see. Monica was now topless except for the expensive bra that prevented her massive mounds of breast flesh from spilling forth. A light sheen of sweat covered her silky skin and drove john insane with desire. John stroked himself and Monica watched in lustful disgust.
Monica began touching herself and her breast heaved as she pleasured herself. " I want to help you." She started. "I want to make you a real man ok?" "Please..." He whimpered. "Make me a man, make me over as you see fit. I submit." He watched intently. He focused on her fingers as they spread the lips to her small shaved pussy. He could smell her in the air. The aroma was intoxicating, the smell of a rich fucking cunt. He reached out to touch her breast. Suddenly she snapped. "Don't touch me weakling. Don't fucking touch me, not yet." There were moments when they reversed the scenario but tonight was hers and she intended to indulge her more baser desires, fully. She spread her legs open wider so John had a privileged view of her power over him. He stopped stroking himself now so as preserve his orgasm and crawled towards her as she sat exposed on the borrowed desk. He timidly asked for instruction from his mistress. One direction. "Serve". Monica kicked off one of her high heels and commanded his mouth to open. " You are no man. You are a weak...thing". Then she buried her toes deep inside his mouth. Way back to the opening of his throat. He gagged and a thick coating of spit, ran over her foot and fell in a puddle on the carpeting beneath him. Monica kicked his face off of her foot and yelled. "Disgusting pig!!!" She stood now towering over John who was kneeling before her. She dug her shoeless sole into the puddle of spit and told John to place his head on the floor. He obeyed. Her foot was slick and wet with his puke on it when she stepped firmly on the side of his face. Inches away, level with his eyes, was the remaining puddle of vomit for him to see. " Why would I let you touch me??!" she chided. "Why should I??" She fumed. John lay prone face down on the floor his dress shit soaked with sweat. His ass cheeks were exposed. A result of having been a nasty pervert that subjects women to his juvenile masturbation sessions. She left him that way for what seemed like a half hour. Silence again filled the room only to be shattered by the sound of sobs coming from the floor. John was crying pitifully. He murmed a few barely audible words, "I'm so weak, help me...". "Fucking pathetic, you beg like a bitch." Rolling him over onto his back with her foot she looked down upon John's hairless, firm and chiseled body. She didn't say a word. She knew the message her glare delivered. "Go ahead, play with your toy...or I will take it from you. Play with it!!!" As he again began to stroke his cock, Monica positioned herself over him. A yellow stream of piss erupted from her pussy and ran everywhere over John. He closed his eyes and pumped his fist over his swollen cock letting the piss wash away all his feelings of inadequacy and weakness. Then he came hard like the loud crash of thunder. For a moment after, he lay there on the floor, silent. Content. He truly had wanted to fuck Monica. He had longed to feel himself erupt and spill inside of her pussy. But it was not in her game design. Not on this occasion. He slowly rose from the floor and went to press his body close to hers. They stared silently into each other's eyes and communicated through their senses. They retreated to her mother's private office shower where they stood under the hot water holding each other for an hour. In the morning, things would return to normal. Monica would go back to being a cunt. And John would return to being just her little lost step-brother, fresh out of college and working his first shit job as a mail room clerk in his step- mom's law firm. This was the game they played. This was the game they loved.
The End.
Clover
- 22.04.2022
- 16
- 0
