Staying Employed, Part 4 (MF, Reluctance)

When I opened the door to Waterhouse’s office, his assistant was waiting patiently outside even though it was past the close of business. I simply nodded to her, my tongue too swollen and tired to even speak. My shoulders ached from my arms touching Waterhouse’s chest for so long, and my knees were bruised. She smiled in a friendly sort of fashion and I hurried away before she could talk. I hoped she didn’t go into his office anytime soon. By the time I had left he was nearly comatose on the couch, a line of drool hanging from his lips and his entire stomach painted in dried semen.

I felt painted in dried semen, even though I’d been careful not to let a drop of it in my hair or on my clothes. I’d gotten some on my lips, and even swallowed a little by accident during my ordeal. In his throes of pleasure he liked pushing my head down harder against his cock to increase the pressure. Still, I’d managed to avoid him actually slipping it inside my mouth, despite a few subtle attempts on his part to guide it in there. That his attempts were subtle told me that Ballard had been good to his word – he’d laid the ground rules out ahead of time.

On returning home, I checked on Keith, who had been home from the hospital since this morning. He was comfortable enough, and between his painkillers and the television he didn’t complain when I told him I didn’t feel well and was going to sleep in the other room.

——————-

The next day I woke with a small blister on my tongue from the constant rubbing the day before. My tongue felt thick and swollen inside of my mouth, and my back was a mess of knots from the long time spent hunched over Waterhouse’s lap. I scurried into work after making sure Keith had everything he needed. When I arrived, there was a sticky note on my desk in what looked like Theresa’s writing. It simply said “Prince, Thursday @ 11am.”

A day to recover, and hopefully regain proper use of my tongue. I drafted a quick email to Ballard, explaining simply that my meeting with Waterhouse had run extremely long the day before, and could we reschedule our standing appointment for Wednesdays at 3. His reply came an hour later, saying that Waterhouse had told him my work was most excellent and that he, Ballard, would accept my report to him on Friday lunchtime instead. He told me his afternoon golf round would be much more relaxing knowing my report was in his hands safe and sound.

“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath but only half heartedly. All things considered he was being honest and fair with me. He could have fired me the first time, and been in the right for it. He could have not given me the car. Each step of the way so far had been my choice.

The rest of the day dragged by. The combination of my physical discomfort and the anticipation of tomorrow left me feeling as though each second were a minute, and each minute an hour.

_________

Thursday morning I dressed carefully. While still sore, I was more limber and my tongue was mostly back to normal. Thankfully the painkillers had kept Keith quite happy – if he’d wanted some special attention himself I would have been in a tight spot.

It occurred to me that the hornier these men were, the sexier I looked, the more quickly they might blow their loads. After all, sex was mostly mental, right? With this in mind I picked out a lacy push-up bra. It wasn’t my most comfortable piece, but it basically put my tits on display once my top was off. Matching panties went on under my black skirt, and I was ready. After a moment’s thought, I slipped a second, more comfortable bra into my larger purse, along with some wet wipes. Couldn’t be too careful.

In contrast to yesterday, the morning flew by. Indeed, too quickly. I was having trouble focusing on my work in dread of what was to come. My only consolation was that the 11am time slot meant he probably didn’t intend to keep me ‘working’ for hours. Lunch meetings and all. At 10:50 I made a quick trip to the bathroom to refresh, and then arrived outside Terrance Prince’s office with 2 minutes to spare. His assistant, Jenny smiled as I approached.

“Mr. Prince will be ready for you in just a moment.”

I nodded, and sat down in the waiting chair. No sooner had my ass hit the seat than her computer beeped and she said “He’s ready for you now.”

“I just bet he is,” I thought to myself without saying it out loud.

I stood, and playing the part of a junior creative I smoothed my skirts as though nervous about my appearance. I was nervous, don’t get me wrong. But not about my appearance. Rather about the fact I was going to service another total stranger.

As the door opened I wondered if they all ordered the same mahogany desk from the same catalog. Terrance Prince was as I remembered him – an athletic, good looking man. As the door closed behind me, I surveyed the office briefly. A beautiful cream couch was up against one wall, and a couple of pieces of art hung on the walls. Otherwise it had the sparse, spartan look of the wealthy.

Terrance didn’t invite me to sit down, so I stood there. As the silence stretched, finally I spoke.

“I was to see you at 11, Mr Prince?”

“Please, call me Terry,” he said with an easy smile. His confidence was obvious, and I couldn’t help but feel this one was dangerous. He was young, wealthy, and had grown up with privilege. Boundaries were not something he was probably used to.

“Undress,” he said in a nonchalant voice. It was obvious ‘Terry’ was used to giving commands. Undress. Just like that. So I did.

I remembered my thought from the morning and decided to make a show of it. More time undressing might mean less time touching his cock. So I turned around, and swayed my hips as I unbuttoned my shirt. As I slid it off my shoulders, I turned around to give him a view of my breasts from the side. Supported by the bra, they must have looked huge, swelling out from my chest a mile. I continued my turn, and I could see the hunger in his eyes as he eyed my tits. The bra was having its effect. I shook my chest slightly, letting my breasts sway from side to side while I unhooked my skirt. Wordlessly, I turned again and bent forward as I slid my skirt to the floor, giving him a perfect view of my ass, covered in the panties I had chosen.

I straightened and turned back to him, putting what I hoped was a coy-yet-sexy smile on my face. I stepped towards him, letting my hips move and doing nothing to stop the jiggling of my chest as I went. He held up a hand, stopping me short. I froze, surprised.

“All of it,” he said. This time his voice was a little less friendly, a little more commanding. I paused a long moment and then nodded. I had hoped the bra would look good enough that he would let me keep it on. I knew that was probably 50-50. I hadn’t expected my panties to come off, though.

Reaching behind my back, I unhooked my bra and let it slide to the floor. My tits hung in the open now, and the office air conditioning made my nipples harden into two small buttons. I turned again, remembering to keep the act up. Bending forward a second time, I slowly slid my panties to the floor. I had shaved my pussy that morning in the shower, and the air felt cold on it as I bared it to his watching eyes.

Turning again, I saw him beckon me over. Stepping forward, my breasts moving with each touch of my foot on the ground, I stopped in front of him. I went to kneel, but he stopped my with a hand. Before I knew it, his mouth latched hungrily onto one of my nipples, and his hand grabbed at the breast that wasn’t in his mouth.

I gave a muffled noise of surprise, of protest. He let my breast fall from his mouth long enough to say “Ballard said I couldn’t get inside of you. Fair play, Nicole.” The way he said my name had an edge of nastiness to it. But even as I was processing that, his mouth was on my tits again, biting and licking. I stood there, fighting the urge to squirm or move. My body responded a little, whether I wanted it to or not. Biology was biology I guess. Regardless I could feel a dampness in my pussy, and my brain urged me to push my hips towards him. I ignored it. With difficulty.

After a short while, he stopped abruptly, and pushed me over towards the couch. Following his instructions, I lay down on the couch on my back. Even in my anxious state, the fabric felt, well.. expensive. His pants were around his ankles even as I settled back, and I had just a moment to see his cock before he was pushing it at my face. It was small. Smaller than I’d expected, and curved strongly to the left.

I was startled, not expecting such a decidedly below average cock from this tall, athletic man. But I had little time to think on it, as he was waving his little prick over my face, and rubbinig it on my lips. I knew this could quickly get out of control, so I reached out a hand and stroked his cock, pulling him gently closer. Then, holding the base of it with two fingers, I began to lick. It hit me that for all my careful planning I couldn’t go for speed. The goal couldn’t be to escape here as quickly as possible. My career, my job, and my car were dependent on him having the best orgasm of his life.

So I gestured him closer still, and guiding him with my hand on his cock, I began to lick his balls. They were big, his sack full and hairy. How a man with such a small prick could have such big balls was beyond me. The hairs tickled at my mouth, but I ignored the sensation as best I could. He reached a hand down and grabbed at my breasts. Where Waterhouse’s hands had been teasing and constant, Prince’s were crueler. He pinched my nipples hard, and even as I worked underneath him I could sense the sneer on his face. I had to get control. I licked all around his balls, and pulling him closer still with a tug on his cock, I even licked his taint. My remaining shreds of dignity screamed at me, but I was a woman on a mission. It was almost with detachment that I went to work, and his grunts and moans quickly filled the room. I had the control I was after.

And then I felt his finger touch my bare pussy. I jumped, my tongue stopping its work immediately and my hand tightening slightly on his tiny cock. “Keep going,” he said angrily. His fingertip was trailing up and down my slit, but not pushing inside. He hadn’t broken the rules.

Cursing inwardly, I resumed my work, but slowly made my way up to his shaft, what little there was of it. Two, maybe three measly inches were all I had to work with, but I figured I could get creative with it. My pussy was responding to his touch, and his fingers were slick with my juices now. He liked that, I could tell. I cupped his thin member with my tongue, wrapping it halfway around him. He gave a long groan as I began to move my tongue up and down his shaft, almost jacking him off with it.

He pushed against my slit with his fingers, and for a moment I thought he was going to slip a finger inside of me but instead he slid up and started working on my clit. “Fuck!” I thought savagely in my head. The touch sent an unwanted charge of electricity through my body. “I’m not going to let this asshole make me cum” I decided firmly.

I moved faster now, and his cock began to drip precum onto where my chest met my right shoulder. I knew I could get him there, and based on the noise and convulsions he was having periodically he was almost in another world of pleasure.

Suddenly he mounted the couch, and his cock pulled free of my tongue’s embrace with a small sucking noise. He positioned his dick and balls directly over my face, and a large drop of precum landed right in between my tits. Kneeling upright, he grabbed my tits with both hands and wrapped his tiny cock in them. With a strange laugh, he started thrusting then, working his cock between my breasts. I was trapped underneath him, his knees on either side of my head, his gigantic balls slapping my chin as he fucked my tits. I could see only his asshole as he clenched, thrust and groaned his pleasure.

I thought it was last forever, but he let my tits go, and moved his cock back and down to rest against my lips again. I knew what that meant, and began lapping at the underside of his cock with my tongue. I felt his weight shifting around a little, but focused on my work until I felt his own tongue run across my clit down towards my slit. I bucked my hips involuntarily, shocked he would do that. I tried to muffle my protests, but he just pressed his hips down, pushing his cock hard against my lips and tongue. I was stuck. He was following the rules, and I physically couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to.

His tongue worked on my pussy relentlessly, starting with long licks downwards before beginning to swirl in circles around my clit. He was an obnoxious bastard, but he knew how to please a girl. I could feel a steady stream of wetness between my legs now, his saliva mingling with the juices of my body. My hips bucked again, and my work on his cock slowed slightly. He began to thrust his hips forwards, not into my mouth but across it. Fighting the feelings of pleasure building in my own body, I pursed my tongue and let him fuck across my mouth.

He thrust faster and faster, but I barely noticed as I felt my own orgasm beginning to build. “I can’t do this,” a distant part of my mind was yelling. The other part didn’t care. My hips were thrusting upwards against his tongue rhythmically now, and I knew I only had seconds left. I muffled a scream as the orgasm hit, wave upon wave of pleasure washing through my body. He exploded right when I did, his cum splashing all over my tits. A distant part of my mind registered the pulsing twitches of his cock, and the sticky wetness building all over my chest. He grunted, over and over again as he came. Somehow, his orgasm lasted longer than mine did. I came down from the high to find him still thrusting his cock across my lips and tongue, cum still dribbling out in increasingly smaller spurts.

I hated myself.

He rolled off me and walked, tiny prick bobbing, back to his desk where he sat down, naked. I looked down at my tits, and they were covered in his cum. I felt soiled. I sat up, and a small river of cum ran down to my stomach. Feeling sick, I captured as much of it with one hand as I could, and fumbled my way to my purse with the other. I ignored him now, grabbing the wet wipes and frantically trying to clean myself.

Terry watched me dress quickly, and as I went to leave he spoke only a single word at my departing back.

“Adequate.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lanhni/staying_employed_part_4_mf_reluctance