As I enter our cozy fourth-floor apartment, the open laptop obscures your view of me. Your expression says something serious is unfolding on the screen. The familiar sound of Mack’s matter-of-fact tone suggests that this is a business meeting.
Easing further into the room, the top half of your attire confirms my suspicions. Soft, navy blue material is smoothed over a strong, broad chest and bulging biceps. Almost surreptitiously, it reaches like a teasing lover to caress your ripped back muscles.
The black windsor-knot power tie is inciting a riot within me. My hungry gaze moves down to where your matching work pants should have been, but finds instead, my favourite polyester-spandex boxer briefs. They contradict your upper professional demeanor and attire – your manhood is straining against the thin fabric, begging to come out and play.
I can help you with that.
Suddenly, you feel exposed, and peek over the lid of the laptop to find the source of your privacy’s invasion. You discover my stare and the vulgar intentions etched in the expression on my face.
Panting from the promising sight before me, I begin to peel the sports bra off my glistening skin, slowing down just before I lift it past my nipples. They bounce as you get a private show of my perky, sweaty breasts.
Once I am satisfied that I have inticed you enough, I daintily drop the bra on the floor just a few inches in front of me.
Next, I grab the waistband of my leggings and turn my body 180 degrees so that there is no mistaking my intentions.
Someone on the call is making an objection to an earlier point made. Bent over, rolling the leggings over my rich, sunkissed cheeks and down my legs, I look past my left, upper thigh and lock eyes with you.
Your head is tilted slightly to the right of the laptop screen now, and your lips are slightly parted.
Careful now, tiger. Your meeting is still in session.
I flash you a seductive grin while I rid myself of the pants completely.
“…Mr. Specter,” someone called. Clearing your throat, you reply by blaming your delay in response to poor internet connectivity.
I saunter over to you and run my index finger along the top edge of the lid of the laptop. “I’m going to make things so much…harder…for you,” I mouth to you over the top of the laptop. Stepping back, I juggle both breasts as I lick one and then the other while maintaining eye contact with you. Then I disappear beneath the table at which you are seated.
While you respond to the person’s queries, I grab your member with my lips through your boxer briefs. I want to watch you fight to maintain composure during your meeting as I suck on your hard cock. I want to hear the excuses you make for any sounds in the background. I want to bring you to the edge and drive you insane with lust. I want you to lose control and bend me over the table.
I free your hard, throbbing cock from its confinement and begin softly licking the head. I make a ring around the tip and continue that spiral as far down as your girth would allow. You’re in my throat now.
You grab a fistful of my hair and make small thrusts. I meet each one with greater force. Unexpectedly, you shove my head down to keep me in place. I respond by sticking my tongue out further and licking your balls. A soft groan escapes your lips, and you quickly cover it up by clearing your throat.
You change your mind and release me quickly. I pull back all the way and let the saliva running down my chin, drip onto my chest and down between my valley.
You like that don’t you, Daddy.
I make a sandwich of your cock with my breasts and titty-fuck you aggressively. Precum oozes from your tip, and without missing a beat, I bow my head to taste it.
There’s one more thing I want to do to you before you lose control completely. I pull your legs forward and bury my face in your balls. I suck each one as I stroke your rod.
“Mr. Specter, did you hear what I said?” Mack says, breaking your bliss-filled reverie. “Yes, Mr. Downey,” you begin. I have begun making long, slow licks along your perineum. Clearing your throat you continue, “I certainly agree that the business could use a face-lift.”
Now I’m giving your ass the same treatment. Long, slow licks while I jerk you off. You’ve had enough. “Gentlemen, would you excuse me a few minutes,” you say. Before anyone could answer, you mute the mic, push back your chair and pull me to my feet by my hair.
Safe behind the laptop’s open lid, you force me into a bent over position on the table. You know me so well. Using my hair as reins, you ram into my eager, drenched pussy and drill me with jackhammer force.
My juices coat the inside of my thighs, and the wet sound of my pussy is added to the music of your pelvis clapping against my fat ass.
You let go of my hair, only to grip the front of my neck. It makes me arch my back even more with my head angled toward your chest. Your eyes are on me, but they don’t see me. You’re mind is adrift as you simultaneously sink deeper into me and ecstasy.
My walls begin to pulse around you, and it brings you back to me. I can see intensity on your face as you fuck me relentlessly. When you dive in for a kiss, I suck your tongue, and then you bite my lip. A song in tenor emerges from you, in perfect harmony with my soprano tune. The melody continues to cresendo before an inevitable sexual eruption leaves us breathless.
We collapse together, exhausted, and with you still inside me, marinating in the culmination of our song.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/glqz05/mf_blowjob_rimming_rough_daddy_the_temptress