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But she kept going regardless, sucking him feverishly, suddenly frantic to make him come, to make him pleased with her, to show him that she was indeed his good girl.
“Coming! Fuck, I’m coming.” He pulled out of her mouth, his fist pumping his cock feverishly. “Get your tongue out, slut.”
She extended it, mouth wide open, her eyes locked upon the thick, pulsing cock. Then great gouts of thick semen leaped forth, accompanied by his soul-deep groans, the hot seed splashing against her lips, her tongue, her chin, several heavy drops splatting against the upper slopes of her breasts. He threw his head back as he continued squeezing the last, dying pulses of semen from his cock, a string of it cartwheeling in the air to land, sticky against her cheek.
Then he sagged back, breathing heavily, his big penis pulsing in time with the quick-time beat of his heart. Swallowing down the salty, slightly alkaline semen, licking as much of it as she could from her lips, impulsively, she darted forward, engulfing the broad head in her mouth, sucking hard upon it once again, making him moan softly.
He pulled his still erect penis from her mouth, and she drew great lungfuls of air, even as she nudged his length with her cheek, her nose, the scent of his cum all around her. Some women hated the smell of semen, but she’d always loved it, and was continually afraid to admit to others how much she craved it in all its variety.
It was the essence of maleness. How could she not love it?
You don’t just love it—you’re obsessed with it. Cum slut.
She smiled up at him, hoping he was pleased with her performance, even if she did have trouble taking all of him. This time.
He gripped her throat firmly, slapping her cheek with his heavy shaft. “Clean it, girl. That’s always part of this. Understand me?”
“Yes… yes, sir,” she murmured, blushing under his gentle reprimand. She may have been bashful, but the flash in his eyes, the subtle growling undertone in his voice, had her pussy so wet all over again, embarrassingly slippery between her labia.
With loving devotion, she licked every inch of his cock, the tang of his seed strong in her nostrils as she did. He murmured, stroking her hair gently as she took care of him, giving him a long, soft kiss upon the very tip of his penis.
“That’s the way,” he said, his voice smoother, richer now, post-orgasm lassitude already seeming to relax him. “I liked that. Oh, fuck, Kelsey, such a good girl.” She couldn’t help but lick him a little more at that, using her tongue to trace every swollen vein, then around the flared, reddened corona, searching for any last errant drops of his essence she might have missed.
When she was finished, he gathered her up into his arms, holding her against his chest, his sticky, hot erection lolling against her thigh as he kissed her forehead. “You were very good at that. You pleased me, sweet girl.”
Though she knew she should have been insulted at being used so casually, at being reduced to little more than a servant girl licking her stern master’s penis for his selfish pleasure, the sound of his words made her grin ear to ear.
Chapter 18
She presented herself naked in the living room, hands upon her head just as he’d instructed that very first day. The morning light was still faint, and it was surprisingly cool in the living room, despite how hot she knew it would be that day.
It surprised her a bit that five days had already elapsed since she’d first arrived, and though he’d promised that she would receive an inspection each morning, really what it had amounted to each day was him regarding her in silence as he sipped his coffee, walking around her once or twice, never saying a single word. Perhaps he might lift a breast upon his palm, ease a fingertip over the smoothness of her mound, or squeeze a thigh here and there.
But otherwise, he seemed to either be satisfied with what he saw, or he was waiting for something. And she could never decide what it was.
They’d fallen into a relatively familiar pattern right away: breakfast in the morning, which of course she was expected to cook for him and which, truth be told, she enjoyed doing. Then the rest of the morning would be taken up with Max working in his office area upstairs, little more than a corner set aside with a desk and his computer, while she went about fulfilling what had become her daily toil.
The list.
He promised her she would have one every morning, and he was a man of his word. Typically, it would only have two or three items, mostly chores, or perhaps fitness-related orders; he liked to order her to walk on the treadmill, or to do yoga. Both of which she also happened to enjoy.
He’d stop what he was doing long enough for her to do her movements in the living room, and more than once she caught him looking, his hands gripping the mezzanine rail as he watched her from above, in silence.
What might have been creepy in any other situation was anything but, when it came to Max. She’d never been more turned on than when he watched her do her yoga. She made a point never to even acknowledge that she noticed him doing so, even though both of them knew she knew.
Somehow, it made it hotter.
She’d often wondered if she had an exhibitionist streak in her, and the level of wetness she achieved, practically soaking through her yoga pants by the time a session under his eye was concluded, confirmed to her that that streak may have been more prominent than she’d ever have believed.
But he had a way of bringing out those secret, hidden parts of her that no one else ever had before. On the fifth day after she’d arrived it was a Friday.
As she stood there, her hands upon her head, her nipples hard and aching in the cool morning air, Max sat down on the couch before her. He sipped his coffee, his brilliant gaze sparkling, wisps of steam rising in front of them from his coffee cup. “We’re going for a ride today.” He took another sip. “So, I want you dressed appropriately for it.”
“Um, okay, what did you have in mind?” She was already picturing what he might decide on. He didn’t make a habit of ordering specifically what she should wear, but she knew he was definitely not above doing so.
“You’ll find it up on the bed.” He rose from the couch, giving her a wink. “Go get dressed, and I’ll bring the Gator around.”
“What the heck’s a Gator?” She could only imagine, but knowing Max she was sure it would be interesting.
