Privileged

I lounged by the infinity pool, the sun kissing my bronzed skin as I sipped chilled champagne from a crystal flute. Daddy's fortune bought everything—mansions, yachts, private jets—but nothing thrilled me like wielding my privilege over the help. My personal trainer, Marcus, arrived right on time, his chiseled body straining against his tight shorts, sweat already beading on his dark skin from the heat. "Strip," I commanded, my voice laced with the entitlement of someone who never hears 'no'. He hesitated, eyes flicking to the security cameras, but I waved my phone—his green card renewal was just a text away. Clothes hit the deck. His cock sprang free, thick and veined, already half-hard from months of my teasing glances. I spread my legs on the chaise, my bikini bottoms discarded, my shaved pussy glistening with anticipation. "Eat me like your life depends on it." He dropped to his knees, burying his face between my thighs, tongue lapping hungrily at my swollen clit. I gripped his hair, grinding against his mouth, moaning as he sucked and probed, my juices coating his chin. "Deeper, you worthless fucktoy." Not satisfied, I pushed him back and straddled his face, riding his tongue until I came hard, squirting down his throat. Then I impaled myself on his massive dick, bouncing with wild abandon, my perky tits jiggling as I clawed his chest. "Fuck your rich bitch goddess," I gasped, feeling him throb inside me. He exploded, filling my tight cunt with hot ropes of cum, but I wasn't done—flipping around, I made him lick every drop from my creampied hole while I fingered myself to another orgasm. Privilege means they clean up after, too—inside and out.