Sir pushed his cock into my mouth and put his hands on the back of my head, grabbing a handful of my hair in each hand so I couldn’t move my head back. I’d been reading up on techniques for driving a man crazy while I’m sucking his cock, but Sir wasn’t interested in me being clever.
His cock pushed into my mouth and into my throat, iron and insistent. He held me still while his hips pumped, driving into my mouth, into my throat. I’d read about this: he was fucking my throat, hard, for his own pleasure.
I felt utterly helpless, used, my mouth battered. It seemed to go well with the burning cane stripes across my bottom. I was still naked. He could see my stripes when he pulled me forward. The thought that I didn’t matter except to give him pleasure was so hot.