I see his car slide up beside mine. I’ve been waiting a while, stewing in my own breath hitching cravings. I’m all desire and primitive need. He turns off the engine and cocks his head with that look he always gives me as if asserting his dominance with just one gaze – a shot across the bow to test my want of him. I can’t help but smile back and he climbs out of his car and approaches.
My eyes rake his form taking in the way his clothes fit. T-shirt skimming muscular chest, jeans skating over his taut thighs and ass as he walks. My eyes drink in his neatly trimmed beard and tight lips that smirk slightly in the knowledge of what he’s going to ask of me. He knows I will do whatever he wants. I know he’s been planning as he drove here. I’m wondering if the molten lava of my lust for him will be evident when he climbs inside my car. Will he smell my melting quim, salivating as she is for his turgid maleness? Will he notice my breasts engorged with blood, nipples straining beneath my lacy bra? They are so tender it hurts. They are in need of Sir’s mouth. His hands. His anything.
He opens the door and immediately he’s upon me. His hands shove into my thick red hair as he takes my lips and makes them his. His tongue seeks mine. I let him in and push my body closer.
‘Get over here,’ he says in a low gruff voice.
He pats his lap and I struggle over the centre console, placing myself blissfully over his jean clad cock. I can feel the heat of it. The steely hardness. For a moment I’m overwhelmed. Eyes closed I surrender to him. His hands drift everywhere, his beard scrapes my throat. Without conscious thought my hands go to his biceps, then to his chest. I revel in the firmness. I press and press closer, breasts squished against him, face rubbing catlike against his stubble.
Our breathing is fast. Eyes glint in the dark as he pulls back. He looks down at my skirt and says,
‘Did you wear them for me?’
I nod. ‘Yes,’ I tell him.
His head tilts reproachfully.
‘Yes, what?’
Quickly I remember myself. It is not like me to forget the proper form of address, but I’m lost in the thrill of his presence.
‘Yes Sir. I’m wearing tinies like you asked.’
‘That’s better,’ he says. ‘Now show me.’
I hitch up my skirt to allow him to see the tiny black thong with gold metal trims that I’m wearing. It just about covers my sex and I know he approves. He runs a finger over the silky material and releases a slight groan.
‘So wet already,’ he says.
I nod and attempt to spread my legs a little more. His cock twitches beneath my ass. My Master is hungry – however I don’t know what for. I must wait and see what he desires.
His breath is on my neck. Thick fingers slip beneath the gusset of my tinies. He strokes my lips and whispers in my ear,
‘Go and sit over there and take them off for me.’
I do as he asks immediately. As I do so he releases his cock from the confines of his jeans and pulls back his foreskin to display the reddened tip.
‘I’m going to put this inside you in a minute,’ he informs me.
He begins fisting it, biting his lip. I watch, desperate for him to fulfil his promise.
After a moment or two he turns and smiles gently.
‘I need your mouth,’ he whispers huskily.
I’m on him in a split second. Carefully, I lap at his wetness. I inhale knowing the scent of him will increase my arousal. My focus moves to his balls where I know his scent is strongest. I kiss them gently and encase them in my mouth. His cum is inside them, waiting for me. This thought excites me beyond belief. We lock eyes and I spit on his cock with as much force as I can muster. This provides lubrication for my lips as they journey down the length of him. Using my tongue, I explore him. Eyes closed I focus on the terrain. His foreskin, tiny slit weeping it’s salty sweet fluid, the edge of his helmet and smoothness of the heated skin. This part is for me. I’m worshipping his cock yes, but I’m immersing myself in the awareness of him for my pleasure more than his. I’m not sure what he would make of that if he knew. However as I feel him respond to my investigations, my reconnoitre turns more responsive.
It’s no longer about me. It’s all for him. I want his moans. I want to see his head fall back in bliss. I want to feel his thighs tighten and tremble as I suck him. Determined to pleasure him to the point of insanity, I grab his ass and pull him to me, sliding his cock as deep as it will go. I let my saliva fall unchecked, knowing it feels so good for him. For a second, I pull back.
‘Fuck me. Fuck my face,’ I urge him.
He does so and I open my throat and take him to the hilt briefly. He groans loudly. I try it again and gag. He slows a little but I grip his ass harder. No way am I going to be put off by a little gagging. I want him so euphoric that he has no clue what or where he is. I want him bat shit crazy with pleasure.
Redoubling my efforts, I swirl my tongue as I bob along his shaft. My hands cup his balls, fondling and caressing. They’re tight and I know he is close. I pause briefly and kiss his abdomen and groin, to allow his dick to become more sensitised and needy. He squirms and I sense his frustration. I kiss his thighs, feather lite. Then lick his balls and bury my nose in them. When I sense his frustration becoming too much, I return to his glistening cock. Within moments, the first pulse sends a jet of virile cum straight down my throat. My cunt pulses in unison as a further spurt finds my tongue. Seeing and hearing him like this, so lost in pleasure is wondrous. A reward in itself. He rewards me further with multiple gushings which I swallow avidly. When he is sated, I lay my head in his lap and use my fingers to rescue any stray drops of cum. I gulp them down greedily as his fingers play in my hair.
‘Such a good sub,’ he sighs.
I smile at the approval in his words and voice.
‘Thank you Sir.’