The Desk Pt. 04

In the shower, his head is running through the images from the morning. Guilt is trying to overtake his mind - he's always been about equality and some of what he's just done feels wrong. He's a man. Hasn't he just exploited a woman? He'd never do this in normal life. But he's also in a cycle of stretching - so completely turned on by everything that's happened. His cock is so hard and the possibilities of this permission to be dom are slowly unfolding.

The drying cum on her face is exciting her beyond measure. She's heard the word cumslut so often on social media and porn sites; she's even used it with him before when messaging. I'm your filthy cumslut. But the reality is dizzyingly better than the theory. That she's just lying there, covered in his cum, waiting to see what happens next, to see if she'll be ignored or well and truly fucked, is almost overwhelming for her.

He gets out of the shower and dries himself quickly. He cannot wait to return to his prey. A sudden feeling of awkwardness overcomes him so her wraps himself in his towel as he returns to the bedroom, his hard cock obvious beneath it. He's too excited to know exactly what his next step is - he figures he'll know once he feasts his eyes on her nakedness again.

She is lying exactly where he left her and her eyes look up eagerly as he re-enters the room. She wonders why he's covered in the towel but will not question it. This is his journey and she will travel with him exactly where and how he wants to go. In normal life, she is a powerful and respected leader. In this room, right now, she is his to do with as he pleases. The contrast is intoxicating.

He marvels at the sight before him and kneels down next to her and can't stop himself placing his hand squarely on the curve in her back. An unexpected groan escapes her and he is surprised to find her so turned on so quickly. In fact she's groaned for a different reason and the feeling is sudden and intense.

'I'm sorry, Master. I need the bathroom.'

He hadn't expected that and is briefly deflated but it merely prompts new ideas, and a new journey stretches out before him.

'Of course.'

She gets up tentatively, aware both of her blood-deprived limbs and her need to appear elegant and seductive. She sits on the side of the bed briefly, waiting for full sensation to return and then slowly pushes herself up, deliberately sticking her arse out further than it needs to be stuck. His cock pulses for the hundredth time at the sight of both her firm, round cheeks, and the glimpse of her tight holes. As she walks into the bathroom, she is surprised to hear him behind her and he stands in the doorway as she turns.

'Sit. I'm going to watch.'

Piss-play has never featured as any kind of fantasy for her and she feels a little uneasy. But she is eager to play her role fully so she sits and, as soon as she does, a torrent of warm urine escapes from her. Equally uninspired by watersport fantasies, he is more fascinated than turned on as he watches her let go. They catch each other's eye and the slightly confused and uncertain looks on each other's face makes them laugh, sudden and loud. This is a release of tension - they are both new to this and clearly enjoying it. But there are many nerves still flying around.

He leaves her briefly and returns with a clean towel to find her stood at the sink washing her hands. Once more he is struck by her breath-taking naked back, arse and legs. He sets the towel aside. He cannot help himself and steps in to push himself against her. She freezes, charged with the sudden contact. He slowly, tenderly, sweeps her hair away from the side of her neck, and leans in to kiss there. He hesitates before contact so that she feels his breath before his lips, and then lightly, so lightly, plants a gentle kiss just where her neck meets her shoulder. She lets out a loud and genuine sigh of pleasure. It is so immediate and intense that he stays there and repeats the kiss, an inch higher up the neck.

She arches back into him, moans his name softly and he is lost. Without giving it a moment's thought, he pulls off his towel and pushes his hard cock into the crack between her arse cheeks, reaches his hands round to cup her amazing tits, and continues to kiss up her neck, along her jawline and down across her collarbone. She is just constantly groaning and twists round to meet his mouth with hers.

There is a pause as he pulls back. She hangs there, so vulnerable. They can both feel that this is a big moment. Despite everything they've shared over the last few months, and over the last hour, the first kiss will be by far the most intimate thing they've done. He has pulled back because he was in control, able to be aloof and distant, taking things at the pace that has been right for him. She is hanging there because she needs this - not because she has romantic feelings for him but because she is craving intimate contact. The intensity of all future activity today will be diminished if she believes he doesn't want to kiss her, and she will start to feel used. She can only be his sub if she knows he genuinely wants her.

He can see in her eyes that this is important and he can feel it in him too. He is not insensitive. But he has been taken aback and will not allow himself to kiss her when uncertain. They both deserve for this moment to be better than that. His hesitation is enough for her to try to pull away. Fuck this. I'm not carrying on if he can't even kiss me. But he doesn't let her pull back. His hands dislodge from her tits and hold her head still. Her eyes are defiant and angry, covering her hurt. He needs a moment, just to catch his breath and realise what's happening here. He doesn't want to blow this but he's surprised by the strength of his feelings.

'If we kiss, does this mean we're an item?'

The absolute sincerity of the question and the look of fear and confusion in his eyes immediately relaxes her and makes her laugh. Just a light chuckle - not mean, just gently ridiculing. He is unnerved but feels safe. He doesn't like being laughed at, especially as he is the older, more experienced one here. But he needs an answer so stays in the moment.

'If we kiss it means we're in love with each other?!'

Her gently ridiculing question and the warmth and understanding in her beautiful eyes releases him from the tension he's feeling. He smiles, relieved but still uncertain. He needs her answer.

'No. It doesn't mean that. It means we want to kiss each other.'

She turns her body fully around as he still lightly holds her head. She pushes her naked body against his, his slightly deflated cock digging into her stomach. She closes the gap between their faces, holding his eyes with hers and breathes the words,

'Do you want to kiss me?'

His cock lurches and the sudden movement makes them both smile. Their eyes light up together and he is suddenly overwhelmed by the need to do just that. Released from the prison of over-thinking, he is suddenly back in the moment and decides he needs to go back into role. So he holds her face more firmly, smiles and leans in. So lightly, he brushes her lips against hers. A groan escapes her lips but he immediately pulls away, just an inch. He smiles, and his eyes are kind, telling her he wants this but he's playing with her. She looks back without returning his smile; she is relieved that he wants to kiss but is not prepared to have him play like this, not when he just caused such a wave of vulnerability in her. Not now.

Without warning, she knocks his hands away and instead grabs his head and lunges at him, places her lips on his and opens his mouth with hers. Her tongue licks his bottom lip and she is both smiling and utterly determined. It briefly crosses his mind to pull away, continue his role but he is overcome with a wave of lust, and he knows instinctively that this is the right way to progress. He pushes his tongue against hers and suddenly they are locked in an urgent kiss, tongues interplaying, her hands holding his face tightly, his on her back, crushing her against him.

It continues for a long time, their collective need desperately playing out. One of his hands is between her shoulders, the other clawing at her arse. One of her hands makes its way down his chest and he starts to snake his from her arse down lower to the space between her legs. Just as she reaches the top of his hard cock and his finger is hovering at the bottom of her soaking lips, they both pause, sensing exactly what the other needs, what the situation requires. They smile into each other's mouths and then break apart. They look intensely into each other's eyes and pull back further.

Safe now that this new level of intimacy has been navigated, both can pause and resume their intoxicating role play. A demure look plays across her face.

'Sorry Master.'

He smiles at her, enjoying the obvious transition into the drama, showing her that he was as consumed by that moment as she was, but that he's now also willing to continue.

'On your knees, slut.'

She stretches involuntarily. And immediately obeys.

She kneels in front of his painfully engorged cock and looks up at him, eyes wide and obedient.

'Yes Master.'

As she envelops his cock with her warm wet mouth, eyes fixed on his, he throws his head back in pure lust and breathes the word 'fuck.' It is music to her ears and she gets to work.