I had barely adjusted the straps on my lace bra before I saw him enter the room. He was one of the quiet ones. Not the type to bark out commands. He just sat there and watched, his eyes soaking up every inch of me. That kind of attention always gets me wet. But tonight was not just about putting on a show. It was about control. About owning him. About draining him. Completely.
I had dressed for the kill. Black sheer thigh-highs with a single seam down the back, perfectly stretched by my legs and held up by my garter. My matching bra cupped me just enough to tease, and the thong I wore would not last long. The lights were low, just enough to cast shadows on my curves and make every movement feel like a striptease. He had no idea what he walked into. Or maybe he did.
He requested cam2cam. I accepted immediately. When his feed loaded, he was already stroking. No words, no warm-up. Just raw need. And even more telling, he had a stack of bills beside him. That got my attention. I leaned forward and spoke slowly. My voice dripped with seduction and command.
“You like what you see, baby? Good. Take out your wallet. Show me the bills. I want to watch you stroke and spend at the same time.”
His hand hesitated. I smiled. That little pause meant everything. He was mine. I ran my fingers down the tops of my thighs, dragging over the edge where nylon met skin. The sound of my nails brushing the stockings made his grip tighten. I saw him nod and pull out a crisp bill.
“That one is for looking,” I whispered. “Now show me another. You want to hear my moans? You will pay for them.”
I spread my thighs and let the camera drink in the sight. Slowly I teased a toy inside me, my hips rising with every push. He moaned softly, biting his lip. Another bill went down. I laughed, low and wicked.
“That is it. Keep going. Every stroke costs you. You are not just watching. You are serving.”
I turned over and bent across the bed, my ass raised, my body trembling with pleasure. My toy slid in deeper as I watched him obey. He pumped his cock faster, stopping only to toss more bills onto the pile. It was beautiful. The sight of him losing control while handing over his money made me feral.
“Tell me what I am worth to you,” I ordered. “Say it out loud.”
“You are everything,” he choked. “You deserve it all.”
I squeezed my legs together and groaned. The control, the power, it was intoxicating. I pushed the toy deeper and faster, matching the rhythm of his stroking. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His mouth hung open. He was getting close. I would not let him finish without permission.
“You want to cum?” I asked. “Then show me one last bill. Make it big.”
He held up a hundred. I smirked.
“Good little paypig. Now imagine these stockings wrapped around you, your cock sliding between my thighs, ruining them with your cum.”
I pushed myself to the edge, crying out his name, soaking the sheets below me. He was right behind me, groaning loudly. Then came the release. He aimed low, just like I told him, covering his own screen with thick streaks. All for me. All because I asked for it.
I looked into the camera, slowly peeling off my stockings one leg at a time, and whispered, “Next time, you will pay more. Because I know you will come back. Good boys always do.”
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