<hr/><hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"Let's Get This Party Started "</span></strong></span> </div><hr/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://40.media.tumblr.com/b98973f987c4ef79a514d3bfbf27f1e4/tumblr_ngww5p1ilB1sbw1gto1_500.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>NAME: </strong> Dominic DeCosta<br/><strong>AGE:</strong> 35<br/><strong>LOCATION &amp; TIME:</strong> Gymnasium Building, Heading for the Office Of Dominic DeCosta | 9/2/16 2:13PM<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Ciseleigh Capshaw <em><strong>CLOSED</strong></em></span></span><br/><strong>WARNING:</strong><em>Adult Content</em><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br/><br/><br/>A dark, deviant snicker was all her question received in response. What was he to do with her? That was a foolish question given just how subdued she'd been by the slap of a thick piece of meat. Though, perhaps subdued was the wrong term. Wanton. Craven. Lustful. Aching. Ravenous. Take your pick. It clouded her eyes and bewitched her senses, making that playful facade give way easily enough, to her more base desires. She wanted to be claimed. To be taken. Owned. Dominated. Try as she might to brush it off otherwise, her body spoke volumes to the contrary. <br/><br/>His patience wavered, but his determination to see her fall apart at the seams, did not. Easing off the desktop, and her bindings, for the brief amount of time it took to disrobe himself, he let his shirt and slacks fall haphazardly to the floor in crumpled piles, not in the least bit concerned over their wrinkled lines, unlike some. Boxer briefs following shortly afterward, he gave her a fleeting glimpse of his gloriously nude form, before he curled forceful fingers around her hips, flipping her on the desktop in a blindingly agile twist. Her full breasts thwapping onto the mahogany slab, her belly pressed tight to its cold exterior, he dragged the moistened tip of his swollen cock back and forth in his last fit of temptation. The skirt had to go. The zipper undone with a less than finessed hand, he removed it with a few impatient collisions of his palms, letting it collapse to the floor before he kicked it away. <br/><br/>Lips to her spine, he kissed in a straight line to the rounded globes of her cheeks, a quick, taunting lick to the hint of a crevice there, before he plunged in with wild abandon. Tight. Frustratingly, tight. He found himself halted at the halfway point, the pucker of his rough fingertips against her hips pulling her skin taut as he tried once more to force his way in. A few more inches, at best. Spitting on his palm, he slid a spare hand to her clit and pressed his thumb in tight circles against her, the drip of excitable cream from his feverish rubbing just enough lubrication to split her open as he buried himself to the hilt. <br/><br/>Growling his satisfaction, he let his head fall in a moment of triumph, relishing the feel of her velvet vice suffocating him. Only then, did he arch forward to conform to her back, his lips to the base of her earlobe, his bass voice graveled and strained. <br/><br/><strong>"My plan? No. I'll do whatever your body tells me to... whatever that tight little cunt asks for..."</strong><br/><br/>Slapping it with his fingertips for emphasis, he ground down into her until she arched. He'd be fucking her raw. <br/><br/></span></span>