Need

I knew you were a cum pig the first time I saw you.

Those practiced lips and that sullen hunger in your eyes were a dead give away. Right there in the interview, I could see this moment, your cum-covered face greedily sucking the last drops of my load from my 8 inch uncut cock.

And you knew it too. You met my stare for a split second and then looked away, knowing you had found your Alpha.

Then it was only a matter of time.

You enjoyed the meaningless work I gave you, and you looked for more - getting quotes for products they didn't make anymore, the random emails I made you send to people I knew would leave you hanging or make you feel foolish, the tasks I'd make you do, then re-do, then do again the first way. Always eager to please, just how I like. After a few weeks, I knew you were ready.

You stayed late, just how I knew you would, made an extra pot of coffee just how I asked - not to keep you awake but to ensure you'd find your way to the bathroom. And when you did after everyone left, I came in right after you and planted myself at the next urinal, far enough back for the narrow divider not to hide what I knew you wanted to see.

Your eyes bulged just how I knew they would. Your piss stream hit harder as your cock twitched at the sight of mine. I let you look as I emptied myself, then held your stare this time when you finally raised your eyes to meet mine. You couldn't look away, even though your every instinct was telling you to fall to your knees and get to work.

And with a nod of my head as I turned to you, that's exactly what you did. Hunger, or thirst - your insatiability had the tip of my cock poking the back of your throat in no time. Your gags were music to my ears, pure compliance, a devotee servicing his master.

You moaned as I grabbed the back of your head and pulled you in even deeper, holding you there, until your eyes watered.

"Look at me," and you gazed up through the tears with that mix of gratitude and longing to get back to work. With another nod indicating my permission, you did.

I let you go at your own pace for a while, alternately deepthroating, teasing my shaft and slit with your tongue, and picking up a steady rhythm with those greek lips, the lips of a practiced line of male-lovers, skillful in raising the semen of more powerful men.

You had managed to wedge my dick into the back of your throat and were swallowing, repeatedly, almost bringing me to the edge, when there was a creaking sound at the door - opening wide as the janitor's eyes as he walked in. You made to get up, but my hand was on your head before you had a chance to pull off me, pinning you there.

"Stay," and you froze.

Hank the janitor froze too, hesitating, eyes on your face buried in my pubes as you gagged.

His wide eyes, surprised - and jealous - rose to meet mine, as he turned with a small nod of apology to leave.

"You want to watch." It was a statement, not a question. He waited a moment, unsure he should respond but visibly lustful, and nodded again with a small grin. He had made his choice and stepped all the way in, closing the door behind him.

I loosened my grip on your head, and you came up for air, averting your eyes, hot with shame and embarrassment.

This was a critical moment. I knew you wanted this, but I wasn't sure you were ready. Would I lose you by pushing you too far or not far enough? I only had a split second to decide.

"Take your shirt off."

Your shame had threatened to overwhelm you, make you run and hide, but now with your shame in the spotlight, you knew you had no choice but to give into it. You let it fill you, closed your eyes, tears of searing humiliation mixing now with those shed earlier by your gags - and you reached down, crossing your arms, pulling your polo up over your bony frame.

Your olive but untanned skin glowed in the fluorescent light, as if under cross-examination, highlighting your brown nipples ringed in dark hair, small and hard.

"Lean back and let him see you." I was really pushing you - once you embraced your shame I was confident you wouldn't back out now.

You leaned back, still on your knees, putting your hands on the floor by your feet, thin and almost ghostly, ribs framing your untrimmed body hair from the small patch on your chest to the thin treasure trail disappearing under your belt, to the tent of your pants over your aching dick, revealing the pleasure you took in your shame.

Hank linked his lips.

I let you stay there for a moment, exposed, nowhere to hide.

"Pull your pants down to your knees."

You kneeled upright again, hanging your head, and doing as I said, leaving only your boxers to cover you, still hoping I would spare you a shred of dignity.

"Boxers too."

You shuddered, but did as I said, leaving yourself naked from the thighs up, your thin shaft rising to attention out of a bed af dark curly pubes.

"Good boy. Now jerk yourself - slowly."

You put your right hand on your long thin shaft, and started to masturbate.

Hank was grabbing his crotch through his coveralls, breathing hard.

"Jerk me too."

You raised your left hand, and stroked my dick, while you still pumped yourself with your right hand, gazing all the while at the floor.

"Looked at me."

Your head still hung, but your eyes met mine, fighting your humiliation, but knowing you were here to obey.

You were shaken, but past the worst of it ow, painfully aware of how much you were enjoying this. But this was still so new. I saw your need for approval, stoically trying to avoid Hank's stare, but unable to help glancing over to him out of the corner of your eye every few seconds.

"Look at him."

This was the final step. You held my gaze - pleading through your stare almost - to spare you this last mortification, but you were close enough now to see how much you needed this. You closed your eyes, just for a moment, then turned your head and looked over at Hank, rock hard through his uniform, watching you mostly naked on a bathroom floor with your dick in one hand and mine in the other.

There was only one way to go now. I placed my hand on the back of your head

"Keep looking at him - and suck."

You moved in again, as if in a trance, taking me into your mouth. You worked my shaft from the side like a harmonica, not taking your eyes off of Hank, hot with your flush of humiliation, but mixing now with growing pride at your skill - and maybe a newfound nascent ego at having an audience.

You gave yourself over to your performance, showing off. After a moment, I let you turn your gaze back to your prize and devote your full attention to your oral worship. Hank was fully erect and unzipping his gray jumpsuit to set himself free. His salt and pepper chest hair poked out above his wife beater, and his still dark pubes framed his thick throbbing cock. He spit in his hand and started working himself to the rhythm of your head bobbing up and down on my shaft.

I let you go at your own pace for a minute, but you were getting carried away. You were bringing me too close, your high of humiliation and enthusiasm getting the better of you to finish quickly, but it was still too soon.

You winced as I closed my fingers in your short mane of jet black hair, and pulled you off my cock, tilting your head back to look at me. I held you there for a second, then loosened my grip a bit. I relished the control, but inflicting pain did nothing for me - unless I knew you wanted it. I massaged your head for a minute and could see your ecstasy as your eyelids grew heavy and your eyes rolled up, relishing in your subservience, the swell of shame and pride at being watched, and the relief at finally having given yourself over to a hand that knew what you wanted.

Hank let out a gruff sigh.

"Open your mouth," and you opened wide. I spit. It hit its mark right on your tongue, and you drew it back in slowly, licking your lips.

"Slow now," and I guided you back onto my dick - in, and out.

You relished each slide of your tongue along the bottom of my shaft, all the way from the back where the tongue meets your throat, to the very tip where you licked up the salty precum leaking from my slit.

I let out a breath now, satisfied with your obedience, your skill, your giving yourself over entirely to your humiliation and my pleasure.

And like the expert cocksucker you are, you took my sigh as the cue it was to pick up the pace again. In and out, slightly faster at first, then quicker still, those lips working their magic.

I had thought I was gonna shoot down your throat, hold you there, make you swallow every last drop, but now that we had an audience it was only right to put on a show. Hank had picked up the pace of his stroking as you went faster, and had freed a nipple from his wife beater, rubbing it ever more frantically as you got faster and faster.

I knew it would only be a few more moments, and I savored this - Hank giving himself pleasure, lost in his aching dream that the lips wrapped around the rock hard cock he was staring at were working his own thick joystick; you in a shame-soaked euphoria, indulging your addiction in full view of a witness, at the mercy of your firm but magnanimous master; and I, the conductor, having orchestrated this show, nearing my triumphant climax.

I grabbed your hair again - just firmly enough this time, in the few seconds before I knew my balls were about to tighten, and held you back so just the tip of your tongue could reach the underside of the end of my long shaft.

"Jerk me."

Your left hand flew up as your right closed tighter around yours, working both our dicks furiously. It would only be a matter of seconds now - only a matter of seconds.

You stared up at me, mouth open wide, tongue flicking the bottom of my tip, and knew your reward was on the way. You jerked faster, and then as the warm load rose from my balls, you closed your eyes and pumped jet after jet of hot white cum onto your black hair, your smooth face, your waiting tongue, and those flushed dark lips. I let you lean back further, and the last jets landed on your chin, and draped down your neck, onto your bare chest.

You shuddered, cum-drenched and leaning back, as you busted your own pent up load so high it cleared your head, followed by rope after rope shooting up in a dwindling fountain, adding to my ropes on your face and chest, and spending the energy you had saved up for this encounter, depleting you in your moment of satisfaction.

Hank half-grunted, half yelled, as his whole body spasmed, letting loose his own creamy spunk halfway across the room, landing on the first jet you shot over your head onto the floor.

We stayed there, breathless for a long moment.

In just a few moments I'll have zipped myself up, and left, without a word, leaving you guessing if and when we'll do this again. You'll remember your shame and head for a stall to clean yourself up, rushing past Hank with your head down, with only the shortest of glances to see if he'll grant you any approval for your performance. And Hank will clean up the mess we made, wondering and hoping a day will come when you'll clean up the mess he'll make - all over your face.

I'll make you wait for a bit, but there will be a next time. Maybe I'll let Hank share you then. Maybe he'll bring a friend. And after you've demonstrated your loyalty a few more times, I just might give you what you really want, and make you walk home without cleaning yourself up first, covered in the aftermath of the bukkake we'll put you through, or maybe I'll be selfish and you'll wear just my cum out in the world, as a badge of honor and loyalty to the master you know you've always needed.