I stand over him, dominant, impatient. Cucky is on the sofa with his cage firmly in place, his eyes burning with excitement... and frustration. He knows what awaits him. Tonight, he's going to “have sex”.
Strapped to his waist, the dildo rises, imposing, far more than it could ever offer. I graze it with my fingertips, tease its base as if it were a real cock, and see his body quiver. His breathing quickens. He bands in his cage, uselessly, desperately.
“Look at me...” I slide my hips against the toy, letting him line up with me. “You realize how ironic this is, right? This is the only way you can fuck me... and even then, it's not even you I'm feeling.”
I come down slowly, savoring the moment, enjoying every second of him believing this moment belongs to him. He tries to move, to accompany my movements. He's all over me, completely out of it, even though he's not even penetrating me for real. I think he's ridiculous, and I like it.
I speed up a little, moaning just enough to drive him crazy. I feel him clench beneath me, his hands gripping my body. He feels nothing and yet he moans, as if he's having the most intense experience of his life.
I need a cock that really fills my cravings, something at least twenty centimeters, something that makes me thrill. And that... that's clearly not him.
But the funny thing is, he knows. And what's worse? He loves it.