Master of Puppets roared out of the stereo as his fingers ran down her neck to her smooth shoulders, causing soft moans to escape her parted lips. They kissed passionately as his hands roamed freely over her body. She felt as smooth as silk and smelled of sweet scented soap.
Angel’s wrists were bound before her with a silken rope, which is the extent of what she wore. Beneath her breast, he could feel her heart pound in anticipation of what was to come and he knew her body had yearned all day for his calloused hands.
“Kneel,” he said.
Slowly she knelt down on the rough carpet, staring up at him with her big, blue eyes. She was gorgeous, with short red hair and a taunt body that cried out to be fucked. As her eyes lowered to the bulge in his dirty, faded jeans, he slowly unzipped the fly. Angel swallowed hard as he pulled his cock from its denim confines and held it before her gaze, just an inch or so from her face. Its girth still impressed her as did its firmness. How could...
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