Girl From Down the Street: Part 3
The release she had been given earlier, coupled with time to think, had let her contemplate on what she truly needed, and wanted, and felt.
She entered his office again, unsure of what was to come but prepared with what she wished to do.
He greeted her with a hug and deep kiss. The embrace pulled her up, unto her toes, and his lips caused sparks to flutter.
He let her down with a squeeze of her ass and gestured to a chair positioned opposite his.
She took the offered seat, curious as to his plans for her and she was surprised when he sat across the large wooden piece of furniture, well out of reach of her.
"Now that our minds are clear," he began, "It would behoove us to discuss our priorities and boundaries."
"What?" Sarah asked, completely baffled as to what was going on.
He gave her a patronizing smile, "We should both be on the same page when it comes to limits and safe words and public discussion of our relationship."
"How could we discuss it...your wife…" Sarah mumbled, the mere thought of Mrs. Wheeler causing waves of guilt and a subtle thrill.
"Exactly, but now we are both clear on the fact that we must be private about this matter. If you wish to say that you are in a relationship without discussing names or specifics that is acceptable."
Sarah nodded and looked up at him. His heavy brow was making him look serious but his eyes were soft. It was clear to her that he held kindness for her and it put her at ease.
"On that subject," he continued, "I assume you have no problems with doing this behind her back?"
Sarah squirmed, unwilling to voice the truth, unwilling to face the facts about herself.
"Or are you more than okay?" he asked, leaning forward as he picked up on the exact nature of her discomfort. "Is that part of the thrill for you? You like it, don’t you?"
She could not answer, but her blushing gave away all.
They were both silent for a moment as he let it sink in and then he picked up the conversation again.
"For a safeword, I have found ‘oatmeal’ to be versatile. Is that acceptable?"
Sarah nodded before gaining the courage to ask the one question she had prepared, "What dynamic do you want from me?"
His eyes changed, and she saw the predatory lust that had flashed through in moments during their previous erotic encounters. "What dynamic did you have in mind when you showed up on my doorstep and handed me your wet panties?"
The mention of her slutty actions sent blood rushing to her cheeks. "I was giving myself to you," she said shyly, her eyes left his, she was too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.
"Is that what you want?" he probed, "For me to own you?"
His usually calm tone was flecked with a lustful desire for her response to be the one he craved.
"Yes," her voice was so soft that she herself could barely perceive it.
"And will you obey me?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"And submit to my desires?"
"Yes," she said, pushing into the chair and rubbing herself against it.
"And our safeword is?"
This gave Sarah pause, "Uh...oatmeal?"
"Good, now onto more business."
They had a discussion about STIs, which included her virginity, and his, until recently, monogamy. They then shifted to limits, to which Sarah could offer none, but promised to use the safeword if she needed. The subject of contraception brought a new wave of nervousness and shyness to her, she promised to look into it and he swore that he would help her however he could.
They ended on the subject of names and titles. "You may call me Mark in public," he commanded, "Mr. Wheeler in front of my wife, and you will call me sir or master when in private."
Sarah nodded, "Yes sir," she said tasting the word. She could not resist licking her lips as she did, teasing him.
"What about you, any you prefer or veto?"
She thought, then shook her head, "Whatever you’d like."
She wanted to be called a great many things, horrible things that she could not voice, the mere thought of him addressing her as slut, whore, bitch, cunt, made her flush in the face and in her sex. But she could not say it, it was too embarrassing.
"What about derogatory names? Are those okay?"
She nodded quickly, keeping her eyes downcast.
"Excellent," he proclaimed, standing. "I believe we are done."
Sarah began to stand with him.
"Sit," he commanded her.
She sank back down into the chair, stimulated by this simple command.
He walked around the desk and stood next to her, letting his presence do the talking.
She looked up at him and smiled. He reached out and stroked her hair, his own mouth forming a slight smile. They stayed like that for a moment, her with her hands in her lap and him petting her. His hand stopped moving and his fingers gripped her hair, he did not tug it, he simply let her feel the tension of his grasp.
"Stand," he ordered.
"Yes sir," she whispered, loving the word, rising slowly to her feet.
He stood behind her, pressing his hand to the back of her head he ran his fingers through her hair. His other hand wrapped around her waist, grabbing her hip with his strong hand.
Her breath came short and she leaned back, wanting more.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered.
She did not hesitate. She unzipped her hoodie and pulled it from her shoulders, next came her t-shirt, and then her bra.
It had barely fallen from her chest when she gasped, his hands ran up her smooth stomach and the moan caught in her throat as he cupped her breasts.
He pinched her nipples and her whole body shook. She loved how it hurt, and the pain only added to the pleasure. Oh god was she horny, even after her earlier release.
His hands left her and she mewed in disappointment.
"You’re not done yet," he told her.
"I’m sorry sir," the word felt dirty on her tongue, and sparked each time she spoke it.
She quickly undid the zipper of her skirt and let the material fall over her hips and pool about her feet. Dressed now only in her socks she bent over to present herself to him, fueled by a sudden, slutty impulse to impress.
She yelped in shock as she slapped her ass painfully.
"I told you to stand." His tone was stern and carried a note of playfulness that caused a flash of joy to race through her.
She quickly straightened.
He showed his approval by running his fingers up her bare back, letting his nails gently scrape her skin. The light sensation was on the very edge of being ticklish, but managed to stay on the right side of the line, heightening her already mind numbing arousal.
She closed her eyes and let her mind go completely blank as he continued to explore her body. Her head was held in place by one firm hand while the other stroked her from mid-thigh up to her ribs. Fingertips brushed under her breast and then dove down and danced softly over her folds. The hands were then switched and he repeated the gesture on her right side.
Her ass was then fondled. He massaged it heavily while his other fingers kept dancing near her pussy. She pushed backwards slightly, as much as she dared to do without inciting his wrath, to invite an accidental touch. But his movements were deft and controlled, and her maneuvering yielded nothing as he continued to tease her.
"On your knees," he ordered.
She dropped so quickly that she had to stifle a cry of pain from the impact.
"Open your eyes, I want to see them."
She obeyed, and was greeted by his face, inches from hers.
"Master? Would you please kiss me?" she softly begged.
He grinned and leaned forward, taking her lip in his mouth. She relaxed even more and let him have her. His tongue darted out and she let him in, they danced for a moment and then he withdrew, with a quick nip of her lip as he pulled back.
She looked up at him, wide-eyed, amazed at the wave of pleasure the small bite had started.
"Open your mouth, I am going to use you now."
She shivered at his words and rushed to obey. Her jaw fell slack and she stuck her tongue out slightly. With eyes wide, she stared in anticipation as he undid his pants and pushed them down, letting his erection free. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side.
"Clasp your hands behind your back," he said before grabbing his dick in one hand and her head in the other.
She did as she was told and he guided himself into her mouth. Her head was then grabbed in both hands and he thrust in deeply, causing her to gag on the first thrust.
Her choking sounds seemed to excite him and he thrust again, just as deep. Each trust hit the back of her throat, sending a sense of choking through her and causing her saliva to come thick. After a few more deep strokes he pulled back, leaving just the head it, and gave her a moment. Sarah took several deep breaths before he shoved himself back in. They continued this for several cycles before he said, "You may touch yourself now."
She did not to be told twice and lunged at her sex with her hand, skipping any warm-up she frantically rubbed, pressing harder with each of his thrusts.
Her saliva ran down her chin and dripped off, but she did not care. The thrill of being used combined with the shudders of pleasure coming from between her legs muted all shame. If anything, the shame was corrupted into more joy.
She was getting close, and she thought he might be also, his thrust were coming faster and more erratically. She let herself fall over the edge and began to shudder with her orgasm, the sparks flew to the edges of her body and she would have fallen over had he not been holding her up by her head.
He gave a few more thrusts then withdrew.
She opened her eyes, delirious and curious, and saw him jerking off, pointing himself at her face. His remaining hand clenched, tugging at a clump of her hair. She cried out in pain and that sent him over the edge, he grunted and his semen gushed forth. It landed hot and thick on her forehead, her nose, and it stained across her glasses. A few enthusiastic shots went far and stuck into her hair.
His moans faded and his grip on her hair loosened.
She gasped in time with him and reached up to her face, a rope of seed was dangling from her nose and was tickling her.
"Don’t," he said.
She pulled her hand away from her face. She watched through the streaks on her glasses as he retrieved his phone from the desk.
He returned. "Pose," he commanded.
Sarah pondered for a moment then put her hands back behind her back, stuck out her tits, and let her mouth hang open.
He took the picture and then looked at the screen. He smiled and showed the image to her.
She could not recognize herself in the pornstar-like figure on the screen. There was a dazed appearance to the girl drenched in cum along with a prideful and confident body posture. Drool was dangling from her chin and there was semen in her hair. That was her. Sarah blushed and turned away, ashamed as much by her appearance as by how much it turned her on.
"Get yourself cleaned up," he said, tossing something in her lap.
She looked down, it was her t-shirt. Holy shit that was hot!
Sarah removed her glasses and scrubbed them clean with the soft red cotton, setting them to the side, she wiped her face clear, and then went on a hunt through her hair. The hair proved to be difficult and she mostly succeeded in smearing it out. She then ran the shirt between her legs, clearing up her own wetness that had dripped out.
It was not much later that Sarah was riding her bike down the street, heading home in a shirt that reeked of sex, with her bare pussy pressing against the seat of her bike, desperate to get home where she could masturbate again, and again, and again.
This story was taken from one these sites, check them out to find more sex stories:
https://www.wonderzine.com/users/1543600/posts
https://womobox.de/forum/thread/11397-d%C3%BCdo-mit-mabu/
https://community.wongcw.com/blogs/593271/Buuu
