She said give me a bedtime story.
You'd wear stockings, garter belt, a short skirt and a shirt you don't care for the buttons on. I'd likely meet you somewhere public but with private booths with no pesky waitresses, where I would carry on a perfectly civil conversation that doesn't change tone when I start describing how I'm going to fuck you. It would contain everything herein, but not in exact terms. I'd ask you to give me your panties before we left, and by the time I was done talking they would be soaked. We'd take a cab. First I'd start by touching your neck, your shoulders, working my way to your garters, snapped tight for me. I'd continue talking, now in a whisper, running my fingertips along your inner thighs and cupping your damp sex. I'd stick my pussy stinking fingers in your mouth, and you'd drool onto them for me to lube them up. Then I'd return to your sex, flitting between the labia, rubbing into the juice. Eventually we'd arrive at our destination, where we'd abscond towards the building, but before entering I would push you to the wall and fingerfuck you while you licked my neck.
We'd make it to the bed, but just barely, and when I laid you down I'd kiss you from your face to your calves. I'd turn you over and play with your ass, slapping it ever so gently and pulling your lewd sexhole open so I can tease you with my tongue.
I'd barely wiggle it in your fuckhole, and if you humped back at me I'd stop and slap your ass harder.
I'd flip you on your back then pull you by the hair to my very hard fuckstick. You'd sloppily suck my cock for a few minutes. Then I'd bind your hands.
After binding your hands, I would torture you with my cock.
Now I know you think yourself a pillar of resistance, but I promise you you will beg me for my cock by the time I'm done rubbing it on every inch of your face, your outer cunt, your lips, slapping your ass with it, fucking your face with it.
If you don't beg I will bind your legs and whip your ass. I'll probably do this if you beg, actually. If I haven't affixed a collar and leash to you, or wrapped your neck with a length of silk, I will do so at this point in the proceedings. Don't ask me why, every woman I've ever gone further than simple fuck has wanted me to choke them. I have to admit it's an exercise in knowing one's own strength, that much is certain.
I would, of course, lap at your pussy for a good while after that, if not convinced at your mewls and whimpers, dipping my thumb, making a cum-hither motion, massaging your gspot, rubbing deeper, to the other gspot, and so forth... I'd rub my cockhead up and down the slit, run the length over you, make you taste your own fuckjuice, get myself wet with it.
Of course, when I finally fucked you, I would be far too backed-up in cum to last long, so I'd take my time as best I could, grinding it in to the root and telling you precisely how your cunt feels on me, tugging the leash.
I'd slap you if you didn't say thank you.
After I came in you the first of many times I'd whisper a poem in a foreign tongue at you while I fucked you like a dog even harder, pulling at your hair, sticking one finger up your ass, throwing you to the bed, then stopping, leaving you for a glass of water, come back stroking it, making you beg again. I'd slap you with my dick across the face if I didn't see complete sincerity in that begging. If it's your house, I'd ask you where your dildo was. I'd screw you with it while I licked my juices off the edges of your cunt, again lubing up your ass surreptitiously. When acceptably hard, I'd fuck you in the ass with my cock and screw your cunt with the dildo simultaneously.
When you cum, it'll be after I bring you to the brink a dozen times, pulling back or out or distracting you somehow, unless you sneak small ones by me. The biggest will make you pass out, and then I'll start asking if you want my cum again. If you beg properly, I'll give it to you. If not, I'll cum on your face and leave you tied up all night, using you when I feel like it.
Lady, I'd fuck you senseless. You'd cry. You'd shudder. You'd ache for days afterwards, feeling what I'd done to you.