tagErotic HorrorThe Facial

The Facial


Under normal circumstances, I would have been a lucky man. After all, what man wouldn't want to give a woman a facial? What man doesn't fantasize about that?

But the circumstances of this particular activity were far different from what you are thinking. It's much different when you are under pressure to perform. And I'm not talking about fear of inadequacy; I'm talking about the fear of having the cold steel of a gun barrel resting against your temple and being told you will die if you don't ejaculate on a woman's face. That's not something you fantasize about.

"You'd better get it up," the man had said. "You get it up and come on her face or I swear I will put a hole in your head the size of her black fucking heart."

And so, trembling and sweating profusely—I would have been crying, too, if the terror hadn't made that function temporarily unavailable—I pulled out my manhood and went to work. It had never seemed smaller than at that moment. I stayed flaccid for what seemed like an eternity, feeling (or imagining) his patience waning with every passing second. I searched my mind for the most erotic image I could conjure, but the true fear was greater than my wildest pleasure. I stood there for a lifetime, pulling away in my futility.

Kelly, meanwhile, looked equally terrified, though she had the easy part. Kneeling, with eyes wide, she only had to watch and wait as I continued in my plight. If I would have only looked into her eyes, I probably never would have managed, but I scanned down to her heavy breasts. I remembered her taking her shirt off in front of me just a few hours ago. I remembered running my tongue down that deep line of cleavage, remembered marveling at the flesh just above her black lace bra, flecked with beautiful freckles. Then I looked lower, to her silky thighs. I thought back to pushing up her skirt and pulling down her panties before putting a hand on each thigh and parting them gently. Then I positioned myself between her as she waited rather impatiently, her chest rising and falling with anticipation, then the warmth and constriction as I found purchase inside of her.

It was an exquisite journey, making love to her. I recalled pushing myself as deep as I could, Kelly arching her back in response to my girth, drawer her nails up my back. Then, after savoring our entwinement, I began to move, slowly at first. The first beads of sweat were already forming on Kelly's chest. I quickened my pace. Kelly seemed to be pulling me into her, urging me to explode with every stroke, asking for each thrust as if she needed the next one more than the last. It was quick, as the first time with someone frequently is. I came inside her as she cried out, pulling me down on her and squeezing her thighs against me, as if she didn't want me to move until I had deposited every last drop.

Reliving these events managed to make me rigid, and I began to have some hope. Kelly still looked mortified, but gave me a small nod of approval. She didn't dare speak. I stroked my shaft as if my life depended on it, stroked it raw, praying for the tingling sensation of climax. The nice thoughts began to slip my mind as the gun barrel pushed through them.

A fresh stab of fear gripped my already hammering heart. But just when I felt my cock begin to soften, Kelly flinched and shut her eyes. A couple of white drops appeared on her cheek. She leaned in closer, and in another instant a steak of fluid spurted across the bridge of her nose...another over her lips...another.

To my surprise, I allowed a small moan of pleasure as I came on Kelly's face. Even in the face of possible death, I still enjoyed a climax. A wave of relief washed over me, for two reasons—both of them obvious enough that I don't have to explain them. Kelly kept her eyes closed as I slowed my strokes, my orgasm dwindling to one stringing line of semen reaching from the tip of my cock towards the floor.

The barrel left my temple, and I closed my eyes and had never been more grateful for getting myself off. Kelly still had her eyes closed when her husband aimed the gun at her head and pulled the trigger.

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