The rest of my day had been a nightmare. 5 hours, working at my desk unable to forget the feeling of Terry Prince’s tiny prick splashing cum over my tits while my body shuddered with an unwanted orgasm. The bastard had gotten off on the control, the domination. Adequate.
“Smug little prick,” I muttered under my breath as I was dressing for work the following morning.
“What was that, honey?” I heard Keith ask from behind me with a note of surprise in his voice.
“Oh nothing. Just someone from work,” I said in what I hoped came across as casual annoyance. “He was a bit critical of the project I was working on.”
“Right,” Keith replied. Something in his tone made me turn to look, and lo and behold he had slipped his cock out of his boxers and was stroking himself gently. He looked rock hard. I guess reducing his painkillers had left him feeling more… awake.
“I’m running a little late,” I said, hoping to postpone this particular encounter. Normally I was happy enough to fuck or suck Keith. He was a good lover, and did his best to take care of me in return. I’d had enough of dicks lately though, and wasn’t really in the mood. He was, though.
“It’s been over a week,” he whined, his hand still working slowly up and down his shaft. I glanced at my watch, hiding my annoyance and then sighed.
“You’ve got 6 minutes, and if you can’t come then I’m leaving you home alone with your blue balls.” His leg was still in the cast, so I moved to the other side of the bed to avoid knocking it.
“Then you’d better get to work, woman!” he said playfully in response. I really was in a rush, and had Ballard’s weekly servicing to take care of later that morning. Without another word I leaned sideways across the bed and, grabbing his cock with my right hand, slid the top third of his shaft past my lips in one smooth motion. Letting go of his cock with my hand, I reached down to cup and massage his balls. My mouth kept his cock in place, and I worked my tongue on his shaft, swirling in circular motions. My left hand crept up to tease one of his nipples.
I’d given him 6 minutes, but it took less than 2. I felt the head of his cock swell in my mouth, the shaft stiffening and then a flood of cum covered my tongue. Swallowing, continuing my tongue working, while still massaging his balls with my hand was a lot to juggle but I’d like to think I kept it up well enough. God knows he enjoyed it, pushing his hips up to shove more of his cock into my mouth while his juices slid down my throat. This went on for a while – I guess he’d been saving up.
When he was done I let his softening cock fall from my mouth. “You need a shower,” I grumbled and grabbed a wash cloth, tossing it to him so he could clean himself up. He was mobile enough to hobble to the bathroom on his own, but he needed a good wash tonight.
Leaving him with a satisfied smile on his face, I raced to grab my handbag and was out the door.
_______________
Work was normal that morning, and at 12:30 I made my way dutifully to Ballard’s office. As I entered, he was behind his desk as usual. However, making my way around to service him I found him leaning back in his chair with his pants already removed. He had a small towel draped over one leg, and after a moment I realized he was ready for his post-orgasm cleanup. The man was prepared, I’d give him that.
I started on him as I had the other times, working my tongue around the base of his shaft, leaving him groaning and wanting me to move up to the more sensitive parts. I figured he had left his shirt on for a reason so I ran my fingers playfully over his nipples through the shirt, letting the fabric do some of the work for me. He was starting to thrust his hips downwards now, trying to move my lips higher up his shaft.
I stayed low, knowing a little longer lower down would speed things up once I shifted, but he had other ideas. Two strong hands grabbed the sides of my head and tilted it to one side. He shifted one hand to the top of my head, holding it in place while his spare hand angled his cock the other way, across my lips. I tried to open my mouth to say something but he took the opportunity to press my head more firmly down against him. With my lips parted slightly, the meat of his cock was wedged slightly between them.
It was probably in violation of the spirit of the rules we had established, if not the specifics of them. He wasn’t technically inside of me, but neither was he not. I knew one thing – I wasn’t going to open my mouth any further to protest. He immediately started to thrust his cock back and forth across my lips, along the insides of them. I gripped his cock with my lips as best I could, pressing my tongue against him. I figured the better it felt, the sooner he would be done.
He grunted and groaned as he worked himself against me. As much control as I had had during our first encounter, I had none now. I was a tool he was using for his own pleasure. Determined to move things along, and in a strange way to take some measure of control back, I worked the tip of my tongue back and forth as he mashed his dick against it. My hand brushed across his chest again, and when I found one of his nipples I pinched it hard, and twisted.
“Fuck!” he grunted, and without warning he came. The usual signs of his approach orgasm – the slight swelling of the shaft and head, the stiffening of his entire member, were missing. It was like he went from a 6 to a 10 in one second. Ballard’s hands clutched at the back of my head and I felt an eruption of his cum fly past my cheek to splatter somewhere on his desk. I tried desperately to keep my hair clear of the volcano that was his convulsing penis. I felt the surging and pulsing of his cock on my lips, the shaft flexing as each spurt of his cum traveled along his shaft.
Eventually his hands relaxed, and I carefully extricated myself from the mess. He was oblivious to it himself, and watched me through half-lidded eyes. Ballard seemed utterly spent, and as I looked at the cum on his desk, the arm of his chair, and his stomach I could see why.
I stood up, giving my hair enough of a fix to get me to the ladies room.
“Come back later,” he said in a throaty voice. I looked at him sharply and he waved a hand dismissively. “Not for that,” Ballard said. “I have a… proposition for you.”
After a moment I nodded and asked what time. He said he had pushed his golf back, and to return at 2pm. With little else I could do, I said I would, and left.
A proposition? What was this all about?
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lbgbw8/staying_employed_part_5_mf_reluctant
Love this series!