tagNonConsent/ReluctanceHoliday Blackmail Ch. 06

Holiday Blackmail Ch. 06

bygimmie_your_load©

I laughed along with my husband at his boss' lame jokes, wishing to be almost anywhere else. Despite the prosperity of his law firm, they seemed reluctant to put much money into their Christmas party, and I stood sipping my second glass of incredibly cheap wine of the evening, trying to hide my distaste for its flavour. That didn't stop my husband of course, who had been drinking heavily and enjoying himself profusely in the process. I knew that showing me off, and mingling with his coworkers was important to my husband both socially and professionally, and so I put on my best fake smile and nodded along with the various lawyer stories, feigning interest, dismay and shock where appropriate. Unfortunately for me he was not with an interesting trail firm; no, his workplace stories involved the more nuanced and delicate profession of commercial law. I struggled to keep my eyes from glazing over with boredom as his boss started a new tale of the intimacies of tax evasion.

The only thing that kept the party interesting for me was the not-so-subtle glances I received from many of my husband's coworkers. Decked out in a slinky red cocktail dress, complete with diamond earrings, black heels, and an up do. I knew my husband was revelling in the attention I received; he always had viewed snagging me as a feather in his cap. For my part, I returned the glances with small grins and sultry eyes from beneath fluttering lashes. The attention reminded me that I hadn't lost my charms over the course of our marriage, and in fact, given the particular attention Dave had been lavishing upon me, far from it. As if on cue, I jumped slightly as I felt my phone begin to vibrate in my small black clutch.

"Hun, I'm just going to run to the ladies' room." I turned and said to my husband, giving his arm a squeeze.

"No problem!" he replied with a smile, before going back to his boss' story.

I walked as swiftly as my tight dress would allow towards the washroom, trying to keep my cheeks from flushing with embarrassment. Maybe its just my sister texting me, I thought as I pushed through the door, knowing deep down that it wasn't. I knew it would be Dave before I even turned on the screen. The phone buzzed in my hand, making me jump as I tried to check the messages. Sure enough, it was Dave; telling me that he was in the neighbourhood and wanted a blowjob right that second. I instantly regretted having mentioned the party to him previously; my intent was for him to use my schedule to book his blowjobs around my plans. Instead he seemed to take pride in interrupting them in order to feed me his shaft. I reply asking where he is, hoping to be able to convince him that I couldn't slip away from the building for long enough to service him. To my dismay, his reply came almost instantly.

"Meet me in the stairwell on the 8th floor."

Nervous about being caught, but knowing that I couldn't say no, I snapped my phone closed and pushed back out of the ladies room. I glanced around, and seeing my husband busy across the room, made for the stairwell. Given that it was night, and the building was well-serviced by elevators, the stairwell was as deserted as I expected. My heels echoed loudly in the enclosed space as I hurried down the stairs towards the eighth floor. As I rounded the corner on the ninth floor and head down to the eighth, I saw him standing there with an impatient look on your face. From the way your balance wavered, I could tell he had a good deal of liquor on board as well. I smiled in an attempt to brighten his drunkenly glowering face but was surprised by his response.

"What took you so long?" he demanded, slightly slurring his words.

"What do you mean?" I asked in genuine confusion. "I came straight here as fast as I could!"

"Shut up your excuses and get on your knees bitch."

Well, I thought, I guess that's how its going to be tonight. Wanting to get things over with quickly and return to the party, I squatted down in my tight dress lowering myself so that I could assume my position on my knees. Before I got the chance, Dave stepped forward with one powerful stride, knocking me backwards with his lower body. I would have fallen onto my butt on the floor were it not for the corner of the stairwell wall behind me., and instead found myself with my butt and the back of my head wedged into place against the cold cinderblock walls. Before I could protest or even think, I heard him undo his zipper and found the head of his dick pressing against my lips.

I was shocked by the speed at which things developed, and found myself gagging slightly as the strong smell of sex wafted off of Dave's cock and into my nostrils. It smelled strongly of pussy, and I suspected he hadn't washed since fucking his wife earlier that day. I grimaced, and attempted to turn my head away from his semi-flaccid meat, but found my head trapped by the corner walls. I felt his shaft thicken and grow harder as he pressed it into my face, smearing a trail of precum across my right cheek, under my eye.

"Fucking take it, slut!" he growled menacingly while grinding his crotch into my face.

I felt Dave's hands reach down and grip me by the jaw bone, pulling back for a moment to turn my face back forward. He held me in place firmly as his mushroom head came forward again to press against my lips. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and felt his salty tip enter me, pushing past my lips and deep into my oral cavity. I tried to tease his head with my tongue, but in mere moments it pushed past, deeper into me, until it hit the entrance to my throat. Slowly, I felt him pull back, and I took a deep breath while the head hovered just inside my lips before driving, slowly, deep into me again. This time he pushed harder, until my nose was pressed against the zipper of his slacks, and his cock head entered my throat. He still held my jaw in his firm, strong hands as he began to fuck my face using slow strokes, steady and deep. Every two or three thrusts, I felt my gag reflex react to his intense pressure, but began to relax a bit as his meat became well lubricated with thick saliva from my throat.

Just as I start to get comfortable with Dave's depth and pace, I feel him begin to increase the speed of his thrusts. Thankfully his depth decreased as he did so, and I found myself being face fucked quite hard against the wall, with just barely enough time and space to gasp for air through my nostrils between thrusts. I struggled to maintain my composure as I felt his tempo increase still further, and began to gag loudly. With my head pinned into the corner, I had no space to pull back and I fidgeted with my hands as I tried to hang in there, not wanting to upset Dave by pushing away. In fact, I was surprised to find myself secretly enjoying the challenge, wanting to taking the brutal face fucking in stride to prove that he hadn't broken my will. As if egged on by my willingness, I felt him begin to drive his shaft deeper into me, harder, gagging me and making me cough up spit around the edges of his base. His pants began to soak up saliva, making a dark wet stain on their front. In the tall, narrow stairwell, the sounds of my gagging and your grunting with effort echoed together, making a perverted symphony in the enclosed space.

My eyes began to water as Dave somehow sustained the pace of the throat fucking he gave me, and I knew my mascara would be beginning to run down my face. Concerned at what I would look like when he was done with me, I let out a long, low groan of frustration at both Dave's disregard for my need to return to my husband and the series of events that had brought me there; squatting down in a slinky red cocktail dress while a drunken man I wasn't married to pounded his fat dick in and out of my mouth. On hearing me, and feeling the vibrations of my mouth on his member, Dave mistook my groan for a moan of lust and hammered his cock home, holding it deep inside my throat where I felt it finally pulse and jump, dumping his sizable load straight down my throat. He held himself there, grunting and groaning himself until his balls were empty, and I was desperate for air.

Slowly, he pulled himself back out of my throat, pausing in my mouth while I applied suction to prevent any of the sloppy remnants from spilling out onto my dress. Squeezing out the last few drops with his hand, Dave watched me, with genuine admiration in his eyes while I swallowed them down. I stood unsteadily, and he watched me, leaning against the wall with his half-hard cock still dangling from his fly heavily. I give myself a quick once-over, noticing the few drops of saliva on the hem of my dress but dismissing them as few people would ever notice. Moving with as much dignity as I could muster, I took a small compact from my clutch, and as Dave continued to watch me used some disposable wipes to removed the destroyed makeup from my cheeks., which were pink with exertion. As I made myself at least half-way presentable, I hoped to myself that my husband would be too drunk to notice the state of appearance. Giving Dave only a sidelong glance and nod, I began to head back upstairs to the party while he caught his breath against the wall, watching me go.

When I reached the fifteenth floor, I pushed through the stairwell door, intending to head directly to the bathroom to rinse the cum smell out my mouth and attempt to reapply my makeup in proper lighting. Almost immediately, I found myself confronted by my husband, a drunken grin plastered to his face.

"There's my beautiful wife!" he exclaimed, drawing me into his arms tightly.

Before I could protest or push him away, he leaned in and kissed me deeply; a wet drunken slobber that left me horrified that he would notice the taste and smell or cock in my mouth. For an instant he froze, and I felt my heart leap into my throat as he pulled away from me, a quizzical look of confusion on his face. I held my breath, as his mouth began to move wordlessly, and his face paled to a shade of white. To my shock, and disgust, he suddenly let me go, turning away to vomit explosively into a nearby potted plant. As he leaned forward, hands against the wall holding him up, I rubbed his back reassuringly.

"Sorry hunny." he mumbled drunkenly. "Too much rum tonight."

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