Madame Marissa - Smothered under my sweaty ass after workout

The air was thick with the pungent odor of sweat and exertion as Madame Marissa, an ivory tower of feminine fitness, returned from her brutal workout. Her muscles glistened with a sheen of perspiration, and her chest rose and fell rapidly from the intense effort she had just endured. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the loser who was about to receive a special kind of punishment. She spotted him immediately - a pathetic specimen of a man, cowering in fear beneath her gaze. His hand trembled as he adjusted his cock, already stiff with anticipation of what was to come. Madame Marissa sauntered over to him, her huge weightlifting boots causing the floor to shake with each thunderous step. Without a word, she towered over him, her sweaty pits and ass wafting a sickly-sweet odor into his face. He gagged as he gazed up at her, mesmerized by the sheer power emanating from her form. Her muscles rippled and undulated as she shifted her weight from one boot to the other. "Are you ready for your punishment, loser?" she purred, her voice dripping with contempt. Without waiting for an answer, she lowered herself onto his face, pressing her sweaty ass firmly against his lips. He opened his mouth to take in as much of her musk as his lungs would allow, moaning in a mixture of pleasure and disgust. Madame Marissa began to grind her hips against his face, her ass clenching and unclenching in time with her heartbeat. She reached down and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling his head into her cleft, forcing him to breathe in her fetid odor. The sweat from her body dribbled down his chin, stinging his eyes and making him squirm. She moved from position to position, never giving him a moment's respite. She straddled him, leaning forward to touch her perfect breasts to his chest, her ass hovering just out of reach. Then she'd lean back, giving him a clear view of her impossibly toned legs before slamming her dripping groin back into his face. The loser was reduced to a quivering mass of need and humiliation, his cock throbbing painfully as it pressed against his stomach. Madame Marissa rode his face relentlessly, her sweat soaking into his skin, stinging his eyes and throat. She sighed contentedly as she felt his spunk leaking out of his cock and onto the floor beneath him. Finally satisfied, Madame Marissa dismounted from her helpless victim, standing over him with her arms crossed beneath her bulging biceps. "Now get up and clean this mess," she ordered, pointing to the puddle of cum and sweat that lay between them. The loser struggled to his feet, shuffling towards the mess on shaking legs. As he bent down to clean up the mess he'd made, Madame Marissa watched with a cruel smile. She knew that no matter how hard he tried to escape his fetish, no matter how much he hated himself for it, he would always come crawling back to her. And she would always be there, ready to take him apart and put him back together again, sweatier and more humiliated than ever before.