Sam slapped them away, rolled her over onto her stomach. He held her wrists together at the small of her back.

Marcia heard silk tearing. Her dress. Her beautiful dress. The silk wrapped around her wrists. Sam was quick. So quick to go after what he wanted. The silk tightened until she felt the blood slow to her fingers. He knotted it expertly.

The bed punched down next to her face. He was kneeling there, pulling her up by the shoulders. She felt his cock brush her forehead.

"Oh God… what… Sam… what?"

She wished she hadn't had that second drink. She was helpless. Sam made her dry lips press against the purple, warm tip of his cock. It wasn't so big. Average? How could she know anything like that. His cock wasn't so big as to scare her, but it did. His prick was white, very white. With veins. But the tip wasn't white. Purple and blue and spongy.

She shuddered when he pushed her closed lips down again. She wanted to tell him to stop, but that would mean opening her mouth. Fingers… fingers probing at her jaw, pushing in until it hurt.

"Ahhhh!" she cried and Sam forced her mouth open.

Marcia felt faint and dizzy from the unexpected sensation. It was starting to dawn on her… this hotel room, her hands bound with silk behind her back. This man kneeling before her with the tip of his cock inside her mouth. Spit leaked from the corners of her mouth.

She tugged at the silken bonds. He forced her head down, holding her under the chin, finger against her throat as if he might choke her for the fun of it. The cock was being drenched with her spit, growing slick. His cock was so hot.

She began to sob.

"That's just fine, honey. I can get off real nice on crying women. I like to hear them cry."

The domed, slick glans of his cock was deep in her mouth now. It slid against the soft slickness of her tongue. She knew that she was only an inch away from gagging.