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I glance down from the scene on the monitor to the scene at my crotch. The sensations merge with the images and I'm overwhelmed. I hear myself groaning as I come again and again into the condom in Jane Williams' mouth as she sucks and sucks, gently fondling my balls with her right hand.
Carefully, she lets my cock slip out of her mouth, wipes her mouth against the back of her wrist, pulls her skirt back down over her legs, and sits back down on the couch. The screen is still displaying an infinite variety of sexual interactions. She pushes a button on the remote control and the screen goes blank. She turns a switch on the table to her right and room lights go on. I see that there's a box of tissues on the side table to my left, and I use one to remove the condom. I put my now-flaccid penis back into my pants and zip up. I see a wastebasket below the table and toss the tissue.
"Well," Jane Williams says. "I see that you can handle this material quite well." She stands up, and I do the same. "We'll be giving you careful consideration, and if we decide that we want you as an intern, we'll call you within the next week." She opens the door and leads me through her office and down to the exit.
I was entertaining myself with that fantasy—or one of its several variations—when I got a call from a woman who identified herself as Jane Williams, from the Museum of Sex. She said that she'd found my cover letter and resume impressive, and that she'd like me to come in for an in-person interview. Just hearing that nearly made me come.
The End.
The Collar
He was entering her unprotected for the very first time. She'd felt his hardness moving within her before, wrapped in the damnable latex sheath that strained against every contour of his beautiful cock. Taunting her, letting her feel exactly what she was missing. She'd also felt him in her mouth, stretching her lips to encompass the wide mushroom head and an inch or so of shaft. He was too thick to take much more than that.
But how she loved that single inch she could take. The soft skin wrapped around a hard muscle, throbbing in her sweet little mouth; and it was little. So little that her teeth always scraped the sides of his member, making him gasp with pleasure and pain.
Her mouth always ached after she fellated him, but it was SO worth it. Watching his body react to what she did turned her on so much. The way his thighs clenched when she pressed the tip of her tongue into the spot just below his glans on the underside of his shaft. The way he caressed her hair. The way his face looked pleased when she obeyed his command to suck him off.
She had felt so timid the first time she tried to give him a blowjob. Her previous boyfriend had been much smaller. She'd been able to take most of him into her throat with ease. When Sir asked her if his larger member was more pleasing to her she had whispered, "Yes, it is most pleasing to me," and thought, more than you know.
In the moment she felt surprised that he would enter her without protection. She gasped at the unfamiliar warmth of his skin touching her most sensitive of places. He sunk the familiar inch into her quickly and stopped. Her hips tried to rock more of him inside her, but he held her down with both hands to keep her still.
"You want me," he whispered in her ear, sliding his lips down to her neck and biting it before she could reply.
&nbs
p; "Please, yes!" she gasped.
"Aren't you afraid I might cum in you without pulling out first?" He seemed amused for a moment beacause she had to take a few deep breaths before replying.
"I-I trust you. This feels so good, I trust you. I'm your woman. Now, please."
"Please what?"
Please what indeed. He felt so big. Too big. Like he'd been hiding half his girth in the condom the whole time, or he'd exchanged his old dick for a newer one a half size bigger. The bastard.
She remembered the first few weeks of their courtship, the romantic dates that had melted into seductions that put her in touch with her submissive side. He'd broken her in each night, just like a new pair of shoes. Broken her stubbornness and stretched her pussy to accommodate his mass. Now when the doors were locked and the windows shut, she was lovingly obedient, attentive, and wet. She'd surprised him one evening by wishing she had a collar to wear around her neck when they were alone. The next day he'd bought one for her and she wore it the same night. That night she had begged him to cut himself loose and stop being so gentle with her tiny pussy.
"I want Sir to pound me like I know he wants to," were her exact words
He'd instructed her to suck him off instead.
His exact words: "Suck me off".
She'd been obedient and gone straight to work. Twenty jaw-aching minutes later her mouth was exhausted.
"I thought I told you to suck me off, Slave"
"I'm sorry Sir, I-"
She should have guessed the game he was playing, but she hadn't, and that had made it all the more fun. He'd turned her over his knee and spanked her curvy ass until it was red, and then taken her from behind. Just the way they both wanted. It was glorious.
The day after she had bought a small necklace with a charm in the shape of a lock to wear around her neck. Holding hands in public is an incredibly intimate act, it tells everyone whom you're going to bed with at the end of the night. The necklace sent a subtler message: that she was completely his. The subtle message of her love was now replaced with the overt message of the collar, and the wetness of her thighs.
"This is the collar I'll wear in public, just for you," she'd said, and-
The memories were pushed from her mind by a scream, hers.
"Oooohhh GOD!"
