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Reaching out, she wraps her hand around my length, and I shudder.
“Is this all for me?” Her words nearly steal the breath from my chest as I gaze down at her.
“Yes, Madame,” I reply, a bolt of electric arousal shooting down my spine.
She strokes, and I let out a muffled grunt, trying to maintain my composure. My breathing gets heavier as she touches my cock, lifting it to inspect my balls hanging heavily beneath. Then her finger rubs firmly in the place between my ass and sack, making me stumble where I stand. There’s a playful smirk on her face as she brings her soft hands to my shaft again, stroking and rubbing to tease me without enough pressure to make me come.
“You really are perfect. I want to make you do so many things, pet. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Madame.” My voice is strained as I try to focus on the pleasure of her touch.
“Would you like to come?”
A whimper escapes my lips, and it’s humiliating.
“Yes, Madame,” I reply.
Her movement speeds up, and I feel myself growing hotter with each stroke. With her other hand, she softly grips my balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. My abs contract, and my heart pounds harder. I’m dangerously close to coming all over that pretty black dress of hers.
I’ve gotten blow jobs and hand jobs, but I’ve never come likethis—on command and under someone else’s control. It’s unsettling and strange, but I’m trying to embrace it.
As my balls tighten and my body seizes in anticipation of the climax, she tugs down on my sack and releases her hand. I let out a gasp and stare down at her in disbelief.
“Do not come,” she commands in a cool, ruthless tone.
What the fuck?
She leans back and stares at me without pity. I’m out of breath and in shock as I wait for her to speak.
Then she whispers, “Good boy,” and something inside me changes. “I like the way you obey me, pet.”
And just like that, I want something far more than an orgasm.
Leaning forward again, she takes my length in her hand and begins stroking, this time faster and more motivated. I’m careening toward my climax. By the way she is stroking me, twisting and rubbing the head of my dick, I’m practically ambushed by my orgasm.
Before I know it, I’m releasing all over her cleavage and coming on a loud, strangled moan. It hits so fast that I can hardly enjoy it. I’d much rather draw it out and savor it.
Standing there breathless and panting, I stare down at my shaft still in her hand. The expression on her face is almost excited as her eyes focus on the head of my cock, still leaking with a drop of my cum.
When our gazes lock, it feels like the most intimate moment of my life. She leans forward with her tongue hanging out and licks the last drop. I audibly shudder at the sight.
After she releases me, she glances down at her dress.
“Look at the mess you made.”
I’m stuck in silent post-orgasm befuddlement. She looks even fucking hotter, covered in my cum. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
With casual confidence, she leans back in her big chair and stares up at me as if I’m her servant and she’s the queen.
“Well, aren’t you going to clean this up?”
I look around the room, wondering what I’m supposed to use, and when my eyes cast downward to her face, I know.
Something makes me hesitate—shame or embarrassment. But then I remember it’s just her and me. And she doesn’t judge me here. She’s literally telling me to do it.
From that moment, I realize how free I am in this room.
Slowly I drop to my knees and gaze up at the spots on her chest. Then I do something I’ve never done before. I draw my tongue along the surface of her chest, licking up the salty mess I left behind.
