Look at you, already hard just imagining it.
I’m lounging here like I own the whole damn car — because I do. These full, perfect breasts spilling out of lace, dark skin glowing against black leather… you can’t look away.
But staring is free. Touching? Worshipping? That costs obedience.

Imagine the thrill: windows fogging up, city lights streaking by, while I make you edge right here in the backseat.
Slow strokes. No cumming. Repeat after me: “Thank you, Ebony Goddess, for owning this pathetic cock.”
And if you’re extra good… maybe I’ll let my driver watch how a real man serves his superior Queen.

“Spread those legs wider, driver. Watch how a weak boy trembles for real power.
No release until I say. And I might not say for miles…
Beg me, pet. Tell your Queen how badly you need this ride.”

This isn’t just a backseat — it’s my throne.
Ready for a long, teasing drive where I control every throb, every whimper, every drop?

Don’t make me wait in the backseat, baby.
The engine’s running… and so am I. 💋🖤