My brain short-circuits when Irina says the word "practice." It's like someone flipped a switch, sending all my blood to my cock faster than I can process what's happening.
"Do you have any special requests?" she asks, her accent making the question sound both clinical and seductive at the same time.
"I'm not sure." I breathe. "Should I get naked?"
Irina laughs, her eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise. "You're eager?"
"Yeah," I admit, feeling my face heat up but not backing down. What else am I supposed to say? I'm a virgin about to have sex with a woman who looks like she walked off a magazine cover. I'm a slave with nothing else to look foreword too. Eager doesn't begin to cover it.
She nods slowly, her gray eyes studying me with new interest. "Well, yes, getting naked would be a good start."
I don't need to be told twice. I grab the hem of the t-shirt she just gave me and pull it over my head in one fluid motion. The sweatpants follow quickly, and I'm standing there in just my boxers before I can second-guess myself.
Meanwhile, Irina strips with practiced efficiency, unbuttoning her blouse and stepping out of her skirt in what feels like seconds. Her movements are confident and unhurried, like this is the most natural thing in the world to her.
When she's fully naked, my jaw drops open. No amount of porn could've prepared me for this moment. She's utterly perfect, her body a masterpiece of curves and smooth skin. Her breasts are massive, swaying slightly as she moves closer to me. She towers over me like some kind of goddess, and I can't help but stare.
"You forgot something," she says with a knowing smile, her fingers hooking into my boxers. She tugs them down with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving mine.
My cock springs free, already embarrassingly hard. I step out of my boxers awkwardly, trying not to trip over my own feet.
"Go on," she instructs, nodding toward the bed. "Get on your back."
I nod dumbly and climb onto the bed, laying flat on my back as instructed. The sheets feel cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through my body. Irina follows, crawling up the length of my body with the grace of a predator. She straddles me, her weight settling on my thighs.
"When we're working," she explains, her voice all business despite our very unbusinesslike position, "my job is to manage the chat and the camera." Her hips shift forward slightly, and I feel the warmth of her against the head of my cock. "Your only job is to listen to me and look at me like I'm your entire world."
I moan involuntarily as she begins to rub herself against me, sliding her wet heat along my length without taking me inside. The sensation is incredible, better than anything I've ever felt.
"You understand?" she asks, increasing the pressure slightly.
"Yes," I gasp, my hands gripping the sheets to keep from grabbing her hips. "Look at you like you're my entire world. Got it."
"Look at you like you're my entire world. Got it."
With a satisfied smirk, Irina positions herself directly above me and slowly sinks down, taking me completely inside her in one smooth motion. The sensation is overwhelming, hot, wet, tight, nothing like I imagined. A pathetic whimper escapes my lips as pleasure crashes through me like a tidal wave.
"Wait, it's… It's raw," I manage to stammer, suddenly realizing we're not using protection.
"It's fine," she purrs, her accent thicker with arousal.
But it's already too late. The feeling is too intense, too new, too everything. Without warning, my back arches and I moan embarrassingly loud as I start to cum deep inside her. My hands fly to her hips, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure pulse through me.
Irina's laugh rings through the basement, a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "You really weren't joking, were you? So eager."
I can't even respond, just hold onto her like she's the only thing keeping me tethered to reality as I ride out the most intense orgasm of my life.
"I've never seen a man finish so quickly," she marvels, running her fingers through my hair while I gasp for breath. "Usually they take forever, and require so much foreplay. This is quite refreshing." She shifts slightly, still keeping me inside her. "Not even a full thrust. I feel so honored."
There's unmistakable pride in her voice, like she's just broken some kind of record. I'm too dazed to feel properly embarrassed yet.
She leans down, her massive breasts pressing against my chest as she brings her lips to my ear. "But let's see... didn't you say you could get it back up again?" She blows gently into my ear, her breath sending shivers down my spine.
To my utter amazement, that simple action is enough. I feel myself hardening again inside her, my body responding to her in ways I didn't know were possible.
Irina's eyes widen as she feels me hardening inside her again. "Oh my," she breathes, genuine surprise flickering across her face.
Then something shifts in her expression, her gray eyes glazing over with what I can only describe as pure predatory hunger. It's like watching a businesswoman calculate profit margins in real time.
"Matthew," she purrs, her Russian accent thick with excitement, "you're going to make me so much money, aren't you?"
Before I can answer, she starts moving, bouncing up and down on my renewed erection. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I grip her thighs, trying to anchor myself against the overwhelming sensations.
My breathing deepens, coming in heavy gasps as she finds a rhythm that's driving me absolutely wild. The sight of her above me, those perfect breasts bouncing with each movement, is almost too much to handle.
"Have you ever kissed before?" she asks suddenly, leaning forward without breaking her rhythm.
"Just a few times," I manage to get out between gasps.
"With tongue?" Her eyes are locked on mine, studying my reactions like I'm a fascinating experiment.
I shake my head. I can't even form words this time, just stifle a moan that threatens to escape my throat. The pleasure is building again, impossibly soon after my first orgasm.
"Wow," she whispers, her lips now inches from mine. "You make such wonderful faces when you feel good."
Without warning, she captures my mouth with hers. Her lips are soft but demanding as she kisses me deeply, her tongue seeking mine. I respond instinctively, meeting her passion with my own inexperienced enthusiasm. She tastes like cigarettes and something sweet I can't identify, and I'm instantly addicted.
My hands move from her thighs to her back, pulling her closer as our tongues dance together. She moans into my mouth, the vibration sending new waves of pleasure through me.
When she finally breaks the kiss, we're both breathing hard. There's something different in her eyes now, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.
"Can I touch you?" I ask breathlessly, my hands hovering uncertainly over her body.
Her lips curve into an amused smile. "Wherever you want," she purrs, watching me with those intense gray eyes.
Without hesitation, I reach up and cup one of her breasts in my hand, feeling its weight and softness as I gently knead it. I've dreamed about touching a woman like this for years.
Irina laughs, a genuine sound of surprise. "My chest?" she asks, looking down at my hand with an expression that makes me feel like I've done something strange. "That's what you choose to touch?"
I freeze, suddenly unsure. "Is that... wrong?" My hand stills against her skin.
"No," she says, still looking amused. "Just... unexpected. Most men go for the hips or ass. Never had one so fascinated with my chest before."
That doesn't make sense to me. Her breasts are incredible, how could any guy not be obsessed with them? But I don't question it further, too caught up in the sensation of her soft skin beneath my fingers.
"I like them," I say simply, my thumb brushing across her nipple. I watch in fascination as it hardens under my touch.
"I can see that," she murmurs, her amusement giving way to something else as she starts moving her hips again. "You're full of surprises, Matthew."
Her rhythmic movements are driving me crazy, and watching her reaction to my touch makes me even harder inside her. I can't help myself anymore.
"Can I suck on them?" I ask, my voice hoarse with desire.
A surprised laugh escapes her lips. "You want to suck on my breasts? Really?"
I nod eagerly, unable to form coherent words as she continues riding me.
"Such a strange boy," she murmurs, but there's fondness in her tone as she leans forward, bringing one perfect breast to my waiting mouth.
I latch on immediately, sucking her nipple with perhaps too much enthusiasm. The taste of her skin is intoxicating, and I moan against her flesh as my tongue circles the hardened peak.
"Mmm," she sighs, her fingers threading through my hair. "That's... actually quite nice."
Her surprise only makes me more determined. I suck harder, using my tongue to flick against her nipple the way I've seen in videos. The effect is immediate, Irina's breathing changes, becoming more ragged as her hips move faster against mine.
"Oh," she gasps, her accent thickening with each word. "You're surprisingly good at this."
Her praise sends a thrill through me. I switch to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while my hands grip her waist, helping guide her movements.
"Fuck," she hisses, her rhythm becoming more erratic. "Keep doing exactly that."
I can feel her tightening around me as her movements grow more frantic. She's grinding against me now, chasing her pleasure with single-minded focus. Her fingers tighten in my hair, almost painfully, but I don't care. All that matters is the way she's looking at me, like I'm actually giving her pleasure despite my inexperience.
"I'm going to..." she gasps, her eyes widening in what looks like genuine surprise.
Her body shudders above me, her inner muscles clenching around my cock in rhythmic pulses as she comes. The sensation is incredible, watching this beautiful woman lose herself to pleasure that I'm helping create. Her face transforms, vulnerability replacing her usual calculated expression for just a moment.
"Don't stop," she commands, her voice strained as she rides out her orgasm.
The command sends me into overdrive. I redouble my efforts, sucking desperately at her nipple while she rides me with abandon. The dual sensations, her tight heat clenching around me and the taste of her skin on my tongue, are too much to handle. My entire body tenses as pleasure explodes through me, radiating outward from where we're connected. I grip her hips hard enough to leave marks as I empty myself inside her for the second time, groaning against her breast.
"That's it," she purrs, grinding down to take every last drop. "Good boy."
I collapse back against the mattress, gasping for air like I've just run a marathon. My heart hammers against my ribs while my body tingles with aftershocks. Holy shit. I just had sex. Twice. With the same woman. Within minutes.
Irina slides off me with a satisfied sigh, stretching out beside me on the bed. Her hair fans across the pillow, black silk against white cotton. For a moment, we just lie there breathing together, the basement quiet except for our gradually slowing breaths.
"That was promising," she says as she turns her head to look at me with those penetrating gray eyes. There's a hint of genuine surprise in them. "Very promising."
I can't help but stare at her, still trying to process what just happened. My body feels different somehow, like I've crossed some invisible threshold I can never return from.
Irina props herself up on one elbow, studying me. Her fingertips trace lazy patterns on my chest, sending little sparks of electricity through my skin.
"You know," she says softly, her accent thickening in the aftermath of our encounter, "I almost feel bad you got caught up in all of this."
My stomach tightens at her words, a cold feeling spreading through me despite the lingering warmth of what we just shared.
"With your enthusiasm and those sweet puppy dog eyes," she continues, "you could have made some wife very happy someday."
She laughs then, a sound that starts gentle but grows sharper around the edges. The sound cuts through the post-sex haze, and suddenly the reality of my situation comes crashing back. I'm not her lover. I'm her property. The collar might be off my neck right now, but the chain is still there, invisible but unbreakable.
Her fingers move from my chest to my face, cupping my cheek in a gesture that would seem affectionate if not for the possessive gleam in her eyes.
"But I'm glad," she whispers, her thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Now you get to make me happy instead."