Take It [M/f] [D/s] [face fuck]

I walk in from the garage, home from work after a day of presenting some much needed changes to our business plan to stay relevant and keep up with the competition. I’m normally careful with the door, but it slams hard behind me.

The meeting went well, my research and presentation were truly great, but the management team are a bunch of good old boys who are stuck in their ways.

I don’t think they’ll be approving the business plan, at least not all of it. And we really need it to maintain and continue growing as a company.

It’s frustrating being the expert in something for it to all fall on deaf ears and the excuse of “we’ve always done it this way”.

I set my purse down on the counter and start making a cup of tea.

I hear you join me in the kitchen, leaving your home office to welcome me home.

I don’t turn away from the electric kettle. I’m frustrated and annoyed and mad. Not at you, but I don’t want to bother you with it all.

I place an earl grey tea bag in my cup. I can feel you watching me. We’re ignoring one another while simultaneously studying each other. Me listening, you observing.

You move first. Of course you do.

You stand behind me and pull my hair to my left shoulder before wrapping your arms around me from behind and planting a kiss where my neck meets my exposed shoulder.

I melt into you. Letting your body support most of mine for a moment.

“How was it?,” You whisper and continue your sweet kisses.

I sigh upset, “I did really well, I really did. It was all so put together, but I just don’t think they’ll go for it. They essentially shrugged me off.”

“They’re idiots,” you say, nibbling more than kissing now. “You know what’s good for them and it’s their loss if they choose not to go forward with it.”

You tighten your hold on me, your arms a vice I’m happy to be wedged between.

“It just makes my work so much harder; goals are difficult to reach currently, and I don’t want the company to just get by when we could be thriving,” I say, trying not to get lost in your grip.

You loosen and put your hands on my hips, turning me to face you.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll come around,” you say reassuringly, placing your hand on my chin, so I’m forced to make eye contact. “And if not, fuck ’em, the old bastards,” you say guiding my lips to yours and kissing me.

I kiss you back, feeling guilty for ignoring you moments ago; caught up in my feelings about work.

“You know,” you say between kisses, “You slammed the door when you got home.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I say meekly. The kettle’s boiled my water; it beeps and hisses.

“I accept that,” you say softly, unphased, your hands gripping my hips roughly. “But you also ignored me after,” your tone has changed. It’s darker, more stern.

“That’s a charge I’ll take,” I say, knowing that action was indeed intentional.

“You will take it,” you say; your hand gripping my ass hard, pushing my sex against your hardening cock.

I gasp at the firmness of your grip and your growing cock. You always know what I need.

“Mm, yes, Sir,” I say.

“On your knees,” you say, undoing you belt. “You’re throat will need that hot tea after.”

The threat of a sore throat makes my insides clench and my pussy swell with heat. I lower myself to the hardwood floor, my ass sitting against my heels. The sound of your zipper unravels me, my mouth salivating in anticipation and my pussy dampening.

“Get to work,” you say. I take your stiff cock in my wet, warm mouth; loving this job so much more than my paying career.

“Mmmm,” you moan as I take the length of you all the way inside. I bob my head along your shaft, taking you in and out, in and out. I can feel your glans against my throat.

“Take it,” you say. And I open up to fit you in my throat, feeling your firmness against my tonsils and your tip down my throat. I swallow around you and you groan.

My pussy gushes in response; I feel my panties soak. I pull back for air after a moment, moving you back from my throat and into my mouth. I work your length hard with my tongue, sucking eagerly.

Your hands find the sides of my head, “That does feel so good, princess,” you say, “but…” Your voice deepens, “You’ll take it.”

With that, you start fucking my face, forcing your hard cock down my throat again. This time at your own pace, thrusting in hard and deep.

I can’t help but gag after a moment, my body trying desperately to get air. You let me gulp a deep breath or two when you feel my body react for air and let me swallow the thick gag spit all while never fully leaving my mouth.

My eyes tear up, and my mascara begins to bleed. My chin and the edges of my mouth are coated in a sheen of spit. It’s not my finest moment, but you love to make me disheveled.

My throat aches from the mass and length delving into it over and over again, but I start to lose all thoughts and time. Focusing only on pleasing you, forgetting the presentation and the old men who don’t get it. Forgetting all the feelings I had when the door slammed behind me, replacing them with nothing as you slam into me.

I feel your cock twitch in that way it does when cumming is inevitable. I refocus a bit, wanting to be present when you cum. Sucking even harder, so I’m more useful than used.

You spurt a hot load of cum into my throat. I only taste what’s left on your cock as you start to pull out of me. I suck and run my tongue over you to clean you off, always sure to never waste any of your seed.

“You did so well, precious,” you say, grabbing a dish towel from the dishwasher handle and lovingly wiping my chin and cheeks before pulling me up.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you, I was frustrated about work and–” I start explaining, my voice raw, when you cut me off.

“Shhhh,” you hush me, “I know,” you say once again guiding my chin to your lips using only your fingertips. “I knew when the door slammed, and when your heels clicked around louder than usual, and when you started making tea in the evening instead of coming to tell me ‘hello.”

I look longingly at the kettle; my throat really is sore. It pangs with each swallow.

“Want that tea now?,” You smile knowingly and kiss me.

I clear my throat and nod bashfully, “Please,” I whisper. You pull my form-fitting skirt up a bit and rub your fingers along my slit.

“Look what me taking that sweet mouth and tight throat has done to you,” you whisper against my ear. I moan at the contact, burning for more as you press and prod the wet fabric clinging wetly to my pussy.

“Go clean up your mascara, and strip down to your panties,” you say casually. “I’ll bring your tea, and then we’ll take care of the rest of you.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say hoarsely getting lost in your touch. With that you withdraw from my body and turn to put the kettle back on.

I hurry to the bedroom. You always know what I need.

“Sugar?,” You shout from the kitchen.

“I’ll take two,” I shout back while undressing.

“Oh yes you will,” you holler back, a dangerous smirk in your voice.

I gulp, feeling the sharp pain that flares when I do so, wondering what you have in store for me.

–
Thoughts??

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/jd7qh2/take_it_mf_ds_face_fuck