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exposing as she lifted and disappearing upon the descent -- over and over. He then felt one wrist come loose from the chair's arm as the Mistress spoke.
"Grab my hair, my pet. Pull it down hard and hold it there 'til I come."
"Yes, my Mistress." With pleasure but he dare not say those words.
After another minute or maybe 10 of her grinding down on him, she commanded him to come as she came, convulsing on his cock, milking it of every last drop.
She lifted herself off his cock and from the chair, bent over and sucked him one last time making him shudder. And then kissed him. He tasted himself on her mouth. He'd never done that before and it felt very erotic. And he felt his cock begin to swell again with life...
The End.
The Guard
I work at a resort, in one of the nicest hotels on the strip. Typically day shifts on the desk, I've recently been asked if I can pull a week of nights, which run from 11pm -- 7:30am. I begrudgingly accept because it's good experience, and am assured that there will be no safety concerns as there will be a security guard patrolling the hotel at night during my shift. I show up on time, my dress professional -- a skirt sitting just above the knees of my long legs, and a white button down top fitting nicely over my breasts and stomach, showing my curves but not in an overly obvious way. The security guard shows up close to the same time -- he's younger than I had envisioned, but strong looking and handsome. I shake his hand, and notice that he holds it just moments too long before slowly letting go, and with a steady look, he tells me the frequency of the radio: channel three, so that I can contact him if I need any help with anything.
The night drones on, and at 3am I can feel myself becoming fuzzy-headed. I move my paperwork into the back office, lock the doors, and forward the phones to my desk in the back. I walk into the small staff kitchen to make coffee, and am surprised to find him sitting at the table. He looks up and smiles -- I return it, and move to the coffee machine, acutely aware that I am being watched. Part of me feels thankful for his presence, and part of me is somewhat uncomfortable. He's meant to be patrolling the area rather than in the back office area with me...a place I have just locked to prevent others from entering or exiting. I can feel his eyes burning into me, and turn my head slightly to verify it...as I turn, my hand knocks the filter off of the counter, and grounds spill all over the place. "Shit," I say under my breath, and quickly crouch down to clean up the mess. I hear his chair scrape across the floor, and quickly, he kneels down beside me, helping to scoop up the mess. "I'm such a clutz sometimes..." I mumble.
"At least you're a pretty clutz," he responds. I smile, feeling complimented, but at the same time...uncomfortable. He is staring at me so intently, that steady look in his eyes. I feel awkward, and break eye contact by standing up and turning back to the counter. I can feel him staring at me again, but this time closer; he's positioned directly behind me -- I can feel his body heat and his breath on my neck.
I move to turn and face him, but suddenly his arms come up and pin mine to my sides. My back goes rigid and I can feel his chest against me as he leans in and whispers in my ear. "You know we're all alone back here don't you?" My mind is racing as I consider my options, of which there are few. I can't very well call security, and I've locked out anyone who might be passing through the lobby. In a short violent burst, he shakes me, but his voice is calm. "Answer me," he says.
I stammer... "Yes."
"Yes what?"
Nothing...I have gone speechless. This is perceived as an act of defiance and while he wraps one arm tightly around me, the other comes to my neck -- resting just under my jaw. He turns my head to face him. "Yes, WHAT?" he repeats.
Tears well in my eyes as I watch the scenario play out in my mind.
"Yes...I know that we're alone back here."
His hand still resting on my throat...my hands tight at my sides, and the pressure of his body pinning my hips against the counter, he leans down and begins to suck and lick my neck. It's not kissing or affection -- it's more primal...more animalistic. His hands move to find my breasts, which he gropes roughly through my blouse, and I want to scream but am afraid of what he'll do to me if I do. His hands slide down to my waist. With a rough heave he lifts me, carries me to the table, and slams me down onto it face first. The knock sets my head reeling for a moment, but not so much as to pull me from the situation that is quickly unravelling in my place of work.
Legs hanging off of the table, and a hand planted firmly on my back, he begins to unceremoniously push my skirt up to my waist. My hands move to stop him but he easily collects them and holds them with one of his own in the center of the small of my back. Leaning over me, he hisses into my ear "Do you know what's going to happen now?"
In a small, choked whisper, I reply. "Yes."
Wedging a foot between my legs, he kicks my feet apart and presses against me. Through my underwear, I can feel his cock pressed hard between my cheeks, and one of his hands has begun to rub me through the thin fabric. I inhale deeply at the intrusion, which elicits a slight snigger from him. Feeling the material being pushed aside, two fingers are suddenly thrust deep into my pussy. I cry out, but the fingers continue to slide in and out of me...a third is introduced, and the speed is increased. Moments later, the guard pulls his hand from between my legs and leans over me -- pressing all of his weight down onto my back, he roughly whispers "If I didn't know any better you little slut, I'd say you were enjoying this." The hand used to violate my pussy reaches up, and he smears it across my face. It is soaking wet and I can feel my face reddening. He runs the fingers along my mouth and tells me to open up, but I refuse. His other hand quickly twists through my hair, and reefing my neck back, he repeats himself...this time in a low growl. "Open your fucking mouth."
Tears of embarrassment and shame streak down my face as I part my lips. His wet fingers push past my teeth and into the back of my mouth, causing me to cough and gag on them. I can taste my arousal and close my eyes. "Taste that you little bitch..." he hisses into my ear, "...you fucking love it."
I can hear him releasing the buckle of his belt, and the quick snap of it being pulled through the loops. The popping sound of a button followed by the sound of a zipper being lowered cause me to thrash wildly, but uselessly. I can slowly feel my strength being sapped away by my futile struggle -- he holds me fast and I hear him chuckle at my attempt to break free.
Suddenly I feel pain as he takes a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back. I can feel smooth, worn leather sliding around my neck as he fashions a makeshift choke chain for me. His elbows dig into my back as he feeds one end through the buckle and cinches it tightly. I can feel his fist pressed down on the back of my neck, maintaining a steady pressure...just enough slack for me to breath, but barely.
"Let me explain your situation to you," he begins. "I can feel how fucking wet your pussy is, and I know how turned on you are right now. I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll want to scream...but if you do, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life. Do you understand?"
I let out a hoarse whisper of acknowledgement.
"Good. Now beg me to fuck you."
I can feel my arousal soaking into my panties, and I hate myself for it. Barely audible, I ask him.
"Please fuck me."
"Again," he commands.
"Please fuck me."
