He’s squeezing my balls, pulling my ass cheek wider. I move my hand around the back of his head, and go a little harder. But he only pulls me in again. His mouth is so hot and wet, his head angled so he’s taking me deep, right down his throat. I don’t think I can take this much longer.
Alright.
Time to put on a show for him.
“You’re such a good little cock slut, aren’t you?”
He retches slightly, and I don’t know if that’s laughter or choking on dick, but I’m not about to stop.
“This throat was made for my cock. I’m gonna use it. Abuse it. Stain it and mould it with my dick, so you’ll never take another man again without tasting me.”
A groan rips out of him, the sound mangled by my firm thrusting.
“Take it. Take it all in your perfect mouth. I want you to drink every drop. I want…” My words fall apart as the orgasm hits me hard.
No. Not yet. No. I need to…
Ah, fuck!
Ecstasy slams through me, and August coaxes me into his mouth, curling his fingers under my balls, ripping pleasure out of me that’s beyond words, and beyond explanation. Pleasure so intense I’m still hunched over against the wall when he slides off, stands, then spits into his hand.
My eyes widen, my brain ticking slowly over what he’s about to do, though I already know deep down.
He takes a kiss, my own cum on my own lips, on my own tongue, filthy and satisfying in a way I didn’t know I craved. His spare hand runs around the back of my neck, then he wrenches me, turns me, and with one shove, my chest lands on the sturdy desk.
He kicks my legs apart, then shoves his handful of hot cum between my ass cheeks, entering with two fingers.
“You like giving cock? Now let’s see if you can take it.”
What have I created?
Fuck, I love it so much!
My breath of expletives fills the small space, broken only by the slap of my hands on the heavy varnish, the sound of my own cum being fucked into me by his unrelenting fingers.
Christ, he’s so hot for this. And I’ve never wanted anything so badly.
I hear his belt jangle to the floor, his zip come undone, and I’d kill to see it, how hard he must be for me, throbbing in his urgency to have me. I imagine him stroking it, trying to ease his tension, and failing.
My back arches, begging for him as he opens me, rough and commanding, his other hand digging into the back of my neck, my chest pressed against the hard wood, taking all the pleasure he forces into me.
Then all at once, his hand withdraws. I hear the wet slap of his cum-laden palm running over his big dick.
Then August’s chest hits my back, his breath against my ear. “Hold on tight, Slayer. I’m gonna split you in two.”
“Oh, fuck!” I don’t know at which point that cry tears out of me. Just at the suggestion? At the first press of his dick? Because it all happens so fast, and it’s dizzying. I have never wanted to be fucked so badly in my entire life, and this man, fucking me over his desk in his office, is hotter than all hell. I have visions of a lifetime of this, a gorgeous lifetime spent together, just like we should have. I want to live with him. I want to be his houseboy. I want to come to his workplace, bring him lunch every day, have him use me exactly how he likes every time, so that he can’t think about anything but me when twelve o’cock rolls around.
I use my desperate grip on the desk to gain some leverage, pushing back, forcing him deeper into me.
“August, fuck.” His hand trembles on the back of my neck, the other landing in the groove of my hip.
“I love you fucking me,” I rasp out.
“I love fucking you. Look at this ass. Christ, the way you take me. You were made for me, Slayer.”
I believe it. I believe every single word. He’s the one. There is no better fit, no better sex, no better love than what we could have.
I press up onto my elbows, changing the angle. He runs a hand under my arm, gripping my shoulder from beneath, and pulls me back against his chest to kiss me. His other hand grabs the underside of my thigh, pushes it up, and before I know it, he has one of my knees on the desk.
