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"What if I'm not, Mr. Mac? Do you really want to be a tool with no rights, forced to worship me without a promise of release and to cater to my every desire, no matter how sick or twisted it may be?"
He held her gaze before chuckling. "Now who's the tease?"
"Show it to me," she said, never cracking a smile.
"Show what?"
"You heard me. If you want to do this, then let's do it. Show it to me. Right here. Right now."
"You'd freak if I did."
"No, I wouldn't. But I would have accepted you into my service."
"What do you mean, 'would have?'"
She
patted his hand. "Slaves have to be strong, Mr. Mac."
"You're saying I'm chicken?" he asked, wondering if it was a game.
"I'm saying you're not made for a life of service and you just proved it."
"Ask me again."
"Wrong answer," she laughed. It took him a moment to catch up with why it was wrong.
"Sorry," he said, realizing it wasn't his place to ask her for anything.
"Thanks better," she acknowledged. Tilting her head to the side, she considered him for a moment with half a smile on her face. "Make it hard for me and we can try this again."
Derrick felt his willpower fading. He had bought a fitness center membership in hopes of meeting a higher caliber of women. For three months, he worked off his middle-aged spread; tightening and toning his body into a shape the twenty-something version of him never knew. Proud of his new body, he was frustrated each time he spent time with another woman in his age bracket. He deserved better, but three months of doing it himself had worn thin. Grabbing the front of his work khaki's he rubbed the beginnings of a hard-on. "You know I'm really going to do this, right?"
"I'm counting it," she said, grinning as her eyes flickered towards his crotch.
"Want to go into the backroom?" he asked, feeling his hard-on reaching acceptable lengths.
"No. Right here. Right now. Stand up, pull your pants down, and show it to me. If you're not hard, the deal's off."
"And if I am?"
Leaning across the table, she propped her chin in her palm and held his gaze. "Then it's playtime for me. Now show it to me, bitch."
On the wrong side of forty, he was too old for this. He knew better. He was risking his reputation and job. At barely twenty, Terri was too attractive and vibrant to want him. He knew this was just a game for her. What if he did it? Risking her laughter didn't give him pause, it was losing a good team member weeks before things would get busy. But life is made from tiny choices made on the fly. Working in steps, he undid his belt, the button at the top of his khakis and worked his zipper while staring at her. Terri held his gaze, her eyes never wavering from his. Reaching inside his underwear, he laid his hand the long, firming rod of his manhood. He caressed the instrument of his pleasure, wondering what her reaction would be. While he wasn't blessed with porn star proportions, Derrick wasn't embarrassed of his length or girth. He knew he had more than most and those with more were few. Letting the smaller head made the final decision, he stood.
Terri's eyes tracked his as he stood. Derrick glanced at the dark, empty parking lot. Someone could walk by the windows, but no one had for the last hour. He pushed down his pants and boxers, exposing his hard cock to the young woman. Standing with his hands on his bare hips, he nodded. Terri's gaze slipped down his body until her eyes landed on his swollen manhood. The nodding throb his prick gave her gaze was involuntary. Her serious expression never changed, though he saw the pupils of her eyes widen. He smirked.
"Now jerk-off," she told him.
"Here? Now?"
Her eyes flashed back to his, narrow and intense. "Did I stutter?"
After giving the parking lot another glance, he gave his hard cock a few tentative strokes. Yes, he was hard, but was he excited enough to produce an orgasm quickly? He kept stroking. She looked, watching his hand move with the same impartial look on her face, as if she was watching him read or fill out a piece of paperwork. Still, she was watching him. He felt a thrill surge through him, spurring him to keep going. Glancing again at the empty parking lot, he looked past it at the cars driving past the center. This was crazy. Someone could see. Not from the road, but if they pulled into the center, they would. Inside the brightly lit store, he would be on display for any mother out running errands while the kids were in school or retiree too bored to stare at their TV. What about his neighbors? The strip center was big, but another manager might stop by for a drink or to shoot the shit. He worked his cock faster. The sooner he came, the sooner he could get dressed. He felt his thrill grow. He was close, arriving there faster than he expected. A week's worth of unintentional celibacy worked in his favor. "So close," he muttered.
"Cum on the table," Terri said, watching his expression as much as his hands working on his hard cock. There was a hint of a smile at the right corner of her mouth and a twinkle in her blue eyes as he reached his peak. His cock erupted, spraying his orgasm in a loose line from one end of the table to the other. Terri's laughter wasn't the reaction he expected. "Good one," she said. "Now lick it up."
After a last shiver of pleasure worked through him from his shoulders on down, Derrick looked at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. He looked at his semen laid out in wiggly spray of lines punctuated with drops and a small puddles against the faux marble topped table. He knew the table was clean, he was meticulous about keeping his store clean. Her wide smile told him everything he needed to know. She didn't think he would do it. Pants and underwear still around his knees, holding his hard cock, he bent and lapped up the mess he had produced. He worked from one edge of the table to the other, tasting the Formica top as much as his spent seed. Glancing up, he kept an eye on the parking lot and front door. No one saw him.
