After Work

I called you as I was leaving the office. I could tell from your too-casual tone that you picked up on the tension in my voice. “I hope I’ll see you soon,” you said, not giving me a chance to reply before hanging up. It annoyed me when you did that, and you knew it. You did it knowing it would only add to the anger and frustration I kept in check all day long. You did it knowing what I would do to you in return.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to focus on the traffic ahead instead of the tightness of my pants. It took me almost twenty minutes to get home – a new record despite getting caught in the tail-end of the evening traffic jam. Even so, I was tempted to beat off during the moments when traffic came to a full stop. I probably would’ve done it, too, if I hadn’t been surrounded by minivans and SUVs that had a clear view of my lap.

It was dark by the time I arrived at home. The faded yellow glow of the old streetlight made it difficult to see the front of our little bungalow until I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. You’d closed the curtains, but I caught a hint of movement in the front corner window and saw a flash of pale skin before the curtain fell back into place. I climbed out of the car and felt hot despite the winter chill. A soft, steady flow of smoke rose from the chimney, mimicking my warm breath in the night air.

I was inside before the cold got to me. I was about to hang my coat on one of the pegs near the door when you entered from the kitchen. “Hey, baby. Let me get that for you.” You took the coat from my hands with a quick peck on my lips, pretending not to notice my hungry stare.

No inch of your smooth, olive skin was unfamiliar to me, but that never stopped me from looking at you like I was seeing you for the first time. I took in all 5′ 5″ of your body. Long legs started with a pair of strappy high heels and ended at a firm ass barely covered with black, lacy panties. A matching top covered equally firm C-cup tits, hiding what I knew to be a pair of perfect dusky nipples. You had the kind of curves that were feminine, but didn’t look out of place with your athletic build.

“Go have a seat in the living room,” you said, ‘accidentally’ brushing against the conspicuous bulge at my crotch. Then you added with a touch of innocence, “I just need to check on dinner first.”

“Sure.”

A tumbler of whiskey was waiting for me on the end table next to my favorite leather chair. I’d barely made myself comfortable when you appeared again, this time leaning in for kurtköy escort a proper kiss. I laced my fingers through your dark curls and held you while I kissed you soundly. Eventually, you pushed against my chest and leaned back, playing with my tie.

“Slow down there, babe. You don’t want to skip the appetizer, do you?”

I reached between your legs and traced the soaked lace of your panties. “What do you think?” I asked.

You loosened, then removed my tie. The top buttons of my shirt were undone before my tie hit the ground. “I think you’ve had a hard day and need to find a healthy way to channel that anger of yours. And speaking of hard…” you gave my cock a meaningful squeeze before stepping back. “You enjoy that drink. I’m going to make sure dinner doesn’t burn.”

“Fucking tease,” I groaned.

The tumbler was empty by the time you came back. I didn’t give you a chance to pick up where you’d left off. I glared at your, trying to look as pissed off as I’d felt when I left the office. “If you want to help, you can get over here and do your job.”

You caught onto my meaning instantly and your teasing demeanor dropped away, replaced by a sort of reverent submissiveness.

“Much better,” I said approvingly. “Now, get over here and get on your knees.”

“Yes, sir.”

I motioned for you to come to a stop between my parted knees. “Do you know what to do next?” I asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Say it. Tell me what you’re going to do.”

You licked your lips – a habitual subconscious gesture I recognized immediately. “I’m going to suck your cock, sir.”

“And…?”

“And I’m going to give you my throat if you wish it, sir. And I’m going to swallow your cum if you decide I’ve earned it.”

I nodded. “Good girl. Do it.”

You eagerly unfastened my belt and tugged at the zipper of my pants. Your delicate hands dipped below the waistband of my underwear and pulled out my hard, throbbing dick. A pink tongue darted out to taste the precum leaking from the slit at the top. I urged you on with a gesture and your mouth engulfed the head of my cock without hesitation. You always struggled with my girth, but my length… I let out a low groan as six of my seven inches disappeared past your lips. My hands found their way to your head and “assisted” you in your efforts, forcing your head down on my cock over and over again. Suddenly, I was on my feet and fucking your throat in earnest.

“Oh, fuck. I’m gonna cum.”

A primal levent escort part of me was pleased to see the disappointment in your eyes when I withdrew from your mouth and began pumping my cock with my fist. Cum spurted from my cock and painted white streaks across your breasts.

“Now, go get dinner,” I ordered as I gently tucked myself back into my slacks. “You’ll get more after we eat.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

You paused, looking hopefully at me.

“Leave it.” I pointed at the cum shining on your skin. I could practically smell your pussy juices flowing as the words left my mouth.

Dinner passed in a blur. I watched your spoon slip between your parted lips, still swollen from the blowjob. The overhead light illuminated the cum drying on the slopes of your tits as they rose and fell with your breaths. You knew I was staring and you struggled to pretend you remained unaffected. Neither of us ate seconds. Instead, I nodded at the dishes.

“Clear these away and then join me in the living room.” I turned and left without waiting to see if you would obey. I knew you would. You always do. When you joined me, I held up my empty tumbler. “More whiskey,” I said. I pointed to the couch opposite my chair. “Have a seat when you’re done.”

“Yes, sir.”

Your tasks done, you sat in front of me, innocent and demure – as if I hadn’t fucked your throat less than an hour before. I sipped my whiskey while you waited for my next order. It was two words, but those two words were enough to make your breath quicken.

“Touch yourself.”

And you did. You kept your eyes on mine and began with your breasts, caressing the sides and tops, and teasing your nipples to a hardness visible through your bra. Your slender fingers worked their way down to your thighs. My cock ached in sympathy when the fingers of one hand dipped under your panties and reached your clit, wrenching a whimper from your lips. You finally let your eyes close as you worked your slippery cunt. I released my dick from the confines of my own clothing and stroked it while your whimpers grew louder and more desperate.

“Stop.” I did not hide my satisfaction when you froze immediately. “Do you want my cock now?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you want to feel me split you open? Do you want me to fill you?”

“Yes, sir,” you said emphatically. “Oh god, yes.”

I took another swallow of whiskey. “Good. Come here,” I said. I lazily pulled down mahmutbey escort your panties with one hand when you got close enough and played with your clit. “Straddle me and take my cock.”

You kicked away your panties and straddled me, positioning the fat head of my cock at your entrance. I knew you loved this part – the anticipation of that initial stretch as you struggled with the first few inches and the subsequent fullness that comes with eventually taking my whole length. I saw it in your eyes as you lowered yourself onto me with a slightly pained gasp. Somehow, I managed to resist the urge to grab your hips and thrust up into you. It always took your pussy a moment or two to get used to my girth, but once you finally did…

“Ah, fuck!” you cried. You began to ride me in earnest then, my hands moving from your hips to your breasts and back.

“You love that, don’t you? You love riding my fat dick.”

“Yes!”

Sweat trickled down my chest and I felt your cunt tighten around me. “That’s it. Ride me like the good little slut you are.”

You rolled your hips and rubbed your clit, panting and crying out as you found a new rhythm. “Oh please, sir.”

“Please what?”

“Please!” Your cunt clenched me again. “Please, can I come?”

I wanted to say no, but my dick decided for me. “Fuck, yes. Come on my cock.”

Your cries suddenly stopped as your body stiffened, then trembled against mine. Your cunt spasmed around my cock. I felt my balls tighten in response, but held back. I wasn’t done with you yet.

The tremors had barely stopped before I was lifting you up and all but threw you onto the couch. I pulled off the remainder of my clothing. My dick glistened with your pussy juices and twitched when you moved onto your knees, presenting your swollen cunt as if reading my mind. I wasted no time in thrusting into you.

I began mercilessly pounding your pussy. I bottomed out on the first stroke and grinned when you cried out. My fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you back into me while my hips surged forward over and over and over again. Your throat would be sore in the morning, but tonight I was determined to force scream after scream from your mouth. I poured the day’s frustration and anger into my thrusts, fucking you with an animalistic ferocity.

And then I was coming. Pulses of hot, thick come shot from my throbbing cock. I buried myself, nudging your cervix as I emptied my balls deep inside you. Still sensitive from your previous orgasm, you came with me. Your pussy greedily milked my cock for more come, with aftershocks continuing until my softened cock slipped out of you.

Later, as we lay gasping on the couch, you propped yourself up on one elbow and looked at me with a smug smirk.

“Better?”

I stroked your hair. “Mm. Better.” I sat up. “Now, how ’bout a shower?”