Lunch Hour

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A bdsm fantasy.
924 words
4.05
10.1k
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She timed it down to the minute, had practiced the route so as not to get lost, staked out the parking lot for the perfect spot. Really in the long run, it wouldn't matter. As long as she was there on time, all other decisions would be made by him, but it was in her nature to prepare so carefully. To make sure everything ran as smooth as silk. No room for complications, or other disappointments. Today was the day.

She woke early to a soft alarm, took her vitamin, drank water. Food was not an option. She needed to be empty, ready to be filled. Even the idea of eating was absurd to her at this point. Then it was shower time. She had it down to a science. Hair brushed, perfect soap, perfect lotion, razors if she needed them, though she usually did not. Every inch had to be ready, just in case. Today her main focus was her face, and her mouth. It was already known to her that they were all that would be put to use. She washed her hair, applied blue tint to enhance her already brightly colored locks. She gently soaped her face, and let the warm streams of water wash it away. She meticulously brushed her teeth, made sure her lips were as soft as possible. And then clothing.

A simple dress hung on the hook on the wall, black and laced at the bust. It was new, and perfect for her endeavors today. She slid it over her head and let it fall around her legs. The fabric was almost like velvet in its softness. The laced bit rested perfectly, slightly open so that her tits peaked, pale and swollen through the dark material. She knew they would look perfect as she sat on her knees later this morning.

It was time to leave. She grabbed her bag, already prepped the night before with anything she could possibly need, and lifted her keys from the hook on the door. The drive was short but excruciating, and as she pulled into the parking lot, she took several deep breaths to compose herself. She would not seem ruffled or overeager when he saw her. She would not allow that.

She circled the lot and found his truck, parked in the space next to it and waited. It was so close, and yet the seconds ticked by sluggishly. She kept her eyes trained on her rear view for the first glimpse of him, and after 6 torturous minutes, there he was, walking towards his vehicle.

He barely acknowledged her presence as he climbed into the drivers side of the truck, but she knew he had seen her. She waited exactly one minute, scanned the lot and finding it void of prying eyes, climbed out of her own transport and into the passenger side seat of his.

He was not in the drivers seat, but seated on the bench seat behind it. She swiveled to match his gaze as his hand came up beside her face and brushed her cheek. She flushed, and stood in a crouch to go to him, abandoning her bag on the front seat. She knelt before him, hands on his knees and waited, not breaking eye contact. He leaned in and met her lips with his own, and she felt a jolt race down her spine. As he kissed her, she heard his hands working at his belt and zipper so that when he pulled away, his cock stood at attention before her.

Her lips parted unconsciously. His hand slid around the back of her neck and pulled her in and down so that she could feel the warmth from his skin directly in front of her waiting mouth, and then he filled it for her. Gently upon entry, but more forceful on the return, and she did not resist. Her throat was filled to the point of choking, and her head held in place via his hands as he pulled her hair into one central tress at her crown. She bounced with what little leeway of movement she was allowed, and felt her cheeks flush with heat. She could not breath, and her fauces constricted, trying to resist the phallic assault taking place within it. Still she was held, until she was sure her face must be taking on a disturbing hue, and her chin was covered in thick tendrils of saliva.

A momentary release, and sharp intake of breath caused her cheeks to barely cool, before he pushed her down again and a moan escaped him. The sound caused a quake between her thighs as well as a burst of wetness. She felt her chest heave, and stomach lurch as she was smothered in his lap. The sensations caused elation to swell within her, as she continued her devout task.

Every hard fought breath was savored, every thrust devoured until her eyes were streaming and her face was drenched. One last gasp, and he pushed into her mouth and slammed her face down harder than she was ready for. The tip of his cock became stone as she felt warm torrents making their way to her stomach. Her thighs were soaked, as she clenched them together so as not to leave a trace on the floor. He pulled her head away and her watery eyes adjusted to his pleasured expression. She silently congratulated herself on a job exquisitely done. For her there was no greater satisfaction than this look upon his face.

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