I was only half dressed when Sir pulled me in for a goodbye kiss; his hands easily finding my bare nipples, quickly making them hard. Our kisses lingered, became teasing. He guided my hand to the front of his trousers. I felt his length and began to rub.
Sir grabbed my cushion, instructed me to kneel and helped me free his cock from his pants. So much fabric, so many layers. His cock tasted of cotton at first, then quickly tasted of only him. He became harder, slicker, pushing to the back of my throat and holding.
I never know when I start crying, but I always do. The intensity, the instensece of his ccock demands it.
I gag, I slobber, I pull back a few times to breathe. Long strings of saliva connect my mouth to his cock even in the pauses I take.
Sometimes it feels like too much, I feel panic itching in my brain. Sometimes I push thru, sometimes I take a breath then go back to my place.
I try to breath around his length but that’s easier said than done. Every inch I take, he pushes forward for more. More sensation, more pleasure, just more.
“Get on all fours, away from me”
I position myself on the couch, lowering my head to my hands as he instructs He enters me and even without foreplay is feels right. Good.
He thrusts, smacks my ass. It stings and my pussy clenches. It’s been so long since we’ve played, I’m out of practice. My tolerance is low. I groan and push back. A few more thrusts. He pulls out swiftly.
“Clean me off”
I drop back to my knees and suck.
“Get it all”
I do my best to get it all.
He leans down into my field of vision and smiles. I see the sweat on his forehead, his upper lip. The slight hitch to his breath. I feel saliva and spunk on my face. Tears on my cheeks. My pussy still quivering.
“Touch yourself twice today, once within 10 minutes of me leaving”
Yes Sir.