Would you like to be plowed?

In a room, he enters with desire,
His presence bold, his urge on fire.
With a gesture, he shuts the door with a thud,
And simply asks, "Would you like to be plowed?"

I nod, closing the curtains for privacy,
Turning away from the screen, so empty.
Up at him, I gaze, from where I'm seated,
As he unveils his hardened member, entreated.

"Put it in your mouth," he commands with lust,
In my chair, I pivot, following his trust.
From tip to base, I slide with ease,
Feeling the thud at the back, as he breathes.

"Ah, that's it," he sighs with delight,
His stomach illuminated by screen's soft light.
Using both hands, I work his shaft,
Licking, sucking, spitting, and having a laugh.

"That's enough, my good girl, now bend over," he says,
I obey, grateful for this moment's craze.
Relief washes over, my mind on pause,
For just a while, I can ignore life's laws.

He's already hard, touched himself before,
I'm simply here to finish, to be his whore.
A wet hole to complete his desire,
To let go mentally, to quench his fire.

Pushed onto the desk, feeling the edge's bite,
Filling the void, carnal pleasure shining bright.
An emptiness in the mind, light-headed bliss,
For those few minutes, I am free from life's abyss.

Noises escape, my mouth forms at will,
Grasping the desk, fingers trembling with thrill.
Every stroke of his cock elicits a moan,
As he plunges deep, reaching my core's zone.

Passive, I let him have his way,
No energy for more, I simply obey.
Hair tied back, ready for him to tug,
My wetness, my submission, ready for a plug.

He calls me 'good girl', I stay silent,
As I breathe heavily, feeling triumphant.
Crotch against my arse, his dick's rhythmic pound,
Banging against my cervix, a sweet sound.

I clench my walls around, tight and secure,
Closing my eyes, free from the world's lure.
Ignoring the blank page, savoring the scent,
Of his deodorant, the memory of his request, well-spent.

He finishes inside, with each pulse of release,
I tremble with pleasure, a bittersweet peace.
He pulls up his trousers, a grin on his face,
While I face the blank page, with thoughts to embrace.