His quiet footsteps echoing in the long hallways of the Keep, Dorcha strides along the hardwood floor as he makes his way back to his office. Though showing his usual silent and stoic façade, the dimming of each set of lights above him as his presence draws near was a clear indication of his displeasure at being held to such a late hour. Especially due to the fact that it had forced him to delay his evening with his beloved.
“Damnable fools of a Council… Whoever let those peons into power deserves a hiding.” He grumbles inwardly, glancing at the stack of files in his hands detailing the Council’s latest failures in leadership that they’ve foisted off onto another. Shaking his head as he passes by one of the black uniformed Council Guard, he sees a curiously odd smile on her face as she looks at him, nodding politely as he walks by.
“Lord Faileas.”
Dorcha returns the polite gesture, but is nonetheless suspicious of the expression they’d displayed at the sight of him. A few steps longer and he finds himself at the doorway to his office, and halts with his hand reaching for the ornate handle.
His door was open.
By the barest of cracks, admittedly, but still not the way he had left it when he stepped out beforehand. Casting a further suspicious glance back down the hallway to the statuesque woman standing there, his hand slides beneath his jacket and takes hold of the hilt of the blade concealed within as he shoulders the door open slowly. Sensing another presence within his office he steps into the room and scans what he can see, trying to spy any hidden dangers before a smile breaks upon his face and his posture relaxes.
There on his desk was a small basket, covered in a familiar red and white cloth, with the ever more wholesome scent of freshly baked goods wafting into the air from it. Letting go of the blade, Dorcha draws his hand from within his jacket. Closing the door behind him as he crosses the floor to the desk, the Impetus lays the stack of files down as he examines the basket, picking up the small note that sits on top.
“You’re not the only one who can be sneaky. – Emmeline.” It says, marked with the lipstick of a familiar kiss.
A small chuckle escapes him as he draws back the cloth from the basket, revealing a small stack of his beloved’s trademark baking. He casts off his jacket and picks one from the top, taking a bite of the still warm dessert and sighs contently, leaning against the desk as he does so. He stands there for a few quiet and peaceful moments while he finishes off the first of the treats left by his lovely lady, before he then sits in his high backed chair, finding it too is nudged slightly out of place than he had left it. Slowly he draws it back to where he normally sat, and pushes the basket aside as he sets to work on the files he had been given.
He spends the next few moments with his pen scratching across the paper, when he feels a strange sensation. Fingers grasping at his belt buckle, seeking to undo it. Raising an eyebrow he leans back in his chair and looks beneath his desk, and sees a wonderfully familiar face grinning up at him as she succeeds in unbuckling and unbuttoning his trousers.
“Not the only sneaky one indeed… Might I inquire what you are doing, my dear Emmeline?” He asks of his lady, as she begins to draw down his clothing. An impish smile is returned to him as she frees his manhood from within, the shaft already beginning to harden as she wraps a hand around it and begins to lightly stroke along its length.
“Well I couldn’t just let those buns go to waste, Dorcha.” She says with a mocking pout, her hand continuing to caress his member in an attempt to bring it to full size.
“Plus you’ve been working so late recently, you’re just bound to be stressed so I thought I would come and see if I could… help you release some tension.”
She stops the motions of her hand and instead starts to lay a trail of kisses along the length of his shaft, leaving lipstick traces with each tender one. With her breath warming his skin Dorcha gives a grateful rumble at the sensations, especially when she begins to run her tongue from base tip and back again, coating his member with her saliva with each pass.
“Mmm… You know love, the Council forbids ‘civilians’ from being allowed into the offices for any unofficial means. Possibly for this exact reason.” He says as he leans back fully in his chair, watching his partner as she works to please him. Emmeline pauses in her motions, her mouth open as the throbbing length rests on the flat of her tongue and across her face, a wide smile breaking across her face at Dorcha’s words. She pulls back, licking the head of his member.
“Well then I guess we’d better be extra quiet just in case then, shouldn’t we, Dorch?” She says teasingly before then easing the head past her lips.
Immediately Dorcha lets out an approving sigh, closing his eyes as he lets his head roll back against the chair as the warm and wet sensation of Emmeline’s mouth engulfs him, feeling her tongue running against the underside of his shaft as she pushes forward, taking more of him in her mouth before pulling back again, only for her to then take more of him in her mouth on the next attempt. Soon Emmeline was taking almost all of his length in her mouth at once, feeling it pushing at the back of her throat as it filled her mouth with his warmth and taste.
While at first Emmeline had kept her eyes open and watched as Dorcha leant back and revelled in the pleasure and sensations she brought him, listening to his approving groans and heavy sighs as her tongue writhed against his skin, she too soon closed her eyes as she focused solely on her lover as she sought to please him. Allowing herself to share in his pleasure, one of Emmeline’s hands sneaks down beneath her trousers as her fingers sink into her own wettened and waiting nethers, while the other steadies her rhythm as she continues her efforts to relieve her lover.
For a time the only sounds heard in the room were the mutual groans of the two, and the noise of Emmeline’s lips smacking around the saliva covered shaft, the sound of someone knocking at Dorcha’s office door cuts through the otherwise encompassing silence.
Immediately Dorcha sits up straight as the door handle rattles, and Emmeline is given little time to take a breath as he pulls his chair forwards, wrapping a leg around the back of her shoulders and forcing her downwards in the process. A muffled gasp of shock is all she can manage before she finds his member buried to the base in her throat and filling her mouth entirely, stretching her jaw as Dorcha looks to the one intruding on their time together. Into the room comes another of the Council’s Consultants, who barely looks up from his stack of papers to acknowledge Dorcha’s somewhat angered expression.
“Tipren. To what do I owe the… intrusion.” Dorcha asks of the bespeckled man, feeling as Emmeline’s tongue continues to writhe and swirl around his shaft. Ever the mischievous one she also begins to gently massage at the base as she shifts up and down as best she could, even with the lock on her head keeping her at bay, the pleasurable sensations testing Dorcha’s true control on his expression even as Emmeline starts to feel her oxygen slowly run out.
“Yes.. Councilman Ambrose sends you another document you are required to fill out before leaving.” The intruding man says, placing the three page leaflet in question on Dorcha’s desk, glancing at the Impetus’ face and the odd twitches barely seen at the corner of his eye.
“I see… Is that.. All, Tipren?”
“Is that not enough for you, Faileas? I could go and see if the Council has more for you if you truly wish.” Comes the snippy response from the lanky man standing before him, causing an irritated growl from Dorcha, something that few people saw and fewer continued to push at.
“For now, yes. If there is more I shall return.” The man says, looking at Dorcha questionably before pushing up his glasses and turning away, shaking his head and brushing off the Impetus’ odd demeanour as he closes the door on his way out.
A few moments pass before Dorcha waves his hand, a click heard as the door locks and he pushes his chair backwards again, releasing his hold on Emmeline. Immediately the woman pulls him out of her mouth, drawing in a deep and grateful breath as she does so, a ring of black lipstick left around the base of his shaft. Dorcha looks down at her with a hungry expression, seeing her eyes watering and saliva running down her chin from the experience. Despite this she looks up with a grin as she resumes stroking his length with her hand, catching sight of the look in his eye, her gaze is drawn to the hand that he raises.
“Emmeline… You are quite correct.” He begins, swishing his hand around in a circle. As he does so shadows rise around Emmeline’s arms and draw them both backwards, binding her limbs straight behind her back. While initially mildly confused and surprised at the gesture, it all becomes clear when the Impetus takes her head in his hands.
“I have a lot to unload from… work related stress.”
Emmeline’s smile returns, and she opens her mouth wide as Dorcha immediately rams it back down on his cock, immediately bottoming out as the head reaches the back of her throat again. He pulls up, only to push her back down with increasing speed and fervour with each time he does so, curling his fingers into her hair for better grip as the Impetus once again leans back in his chair as he forces Emmeline’s mouth up and down on him, fucking her throat with abandon. Saliva runs from her mouth as tears begin to stream down her cheeks as Dorcha abuses her throat, roughly using her as a means to pleasure himself and only himself, the binding of her arms keeping her off balance and unable to relieve her own arousal anymore.
Her tongue lolls around his length as he pushes her down again and again, her eyes rolling back as she hums an approving moan, the sensation vibrating on his skin. His pace quickens as his breathing comes off rhythm as he approaches his climax, and eventually he rams his cock to the back of her throat and lets out a pleasured groan. Emmeline feels as he begins to pump his seed directly into her throat, warmth blossoming out from around his shaft as she gleefully tries to swallow each pulse of it.
He keeps her head held there as his cock twitches, releasing more of his load into her mouth before pulling out finally, the last of his climax is emptied onto her waiting tongue, some falling onto her chest. Dorcha releases his hold on her head and relaxes in his chair, giving a relaxed sigh for a moment.
“Thank you, Emmeline. You always know just the treat to brighten my day.” He says, before glancing at the clock across from them.
“However I believe this work may take me some time, a few hours yet, at least.” Dorcha purrs, looking back down at Emmeline as she heaves in her own lungfuls of air.
“So be a good girl…” She looks down at his lipstick and saliva soaked cock as it begins to stiffen and rise once again, and her bonds are released with another wave of his hand, the Impetus repositioning at his desk.
“And open wide.”