Masters Sub Gives Pleasure

You come through the door, drop your keys on the table and loosen your tie as you walk to your favorite chair. I follow you to the chair and, stopping beside it, ask you how your day was. You ignore my question. It was apparently not a good day and you are not interested in talking about it.

Instead, you reach up and grab my arm, pulling me to my knees in front of you, as you say, "I've been thinking all afternoon about you sucking my cock." I open my mouth to protest (I was hungry and you had promised to take me out to dinner) but the look on your face tells me that you are not in the mood for arguments.

I quickly begin to unbuckle your belt. As I unzip your pants, I can feel how hard you are and feel the heat rising from your cock. I take you in my hand and lower my head to kiss the base of your shaft. Slowly I slide my warm, wet tongue from the base to the tip and am rewarded with a low moan from you. I lower my head to slide my tongue up the other side and your cock twitches as I reach the head and lick a drop of pre-cum from the sensitive tip. As my hand slowly pumps the rest of your length, I suck the head into my mouth and you groan as my tongue slips quickly around and around it. I love how you taste and feel on my tongue.

Inch by inch, I work more of you into my mouth until you are hitting the back of my throat and I can go no further. I've never been with a man as big as you and still have trouble taking you into my throat. I can do it but it takes real concentration on my part to get those muscles to relax - and you just don't have the patience for that tonight.

I feel your hands on the back of my head and your fingers twisting in my hair. You begin to move my head up and down on your cock, each time hitting harder against my resisting throat muscles with no regard for my comfort. Suddenly, the muscles give and you slip deep into my throat. You hold yourself there, savoring the sensations as my bruised throat spasms in a futile attempt to force you out.

It hurts, but my focus quickly shifts as I realize I can't breathe. I struggle but you hold me tightly in place, your cock completely filling my throat. I know you want me to trust you but tears form in my eyes as my fear begins to rise. Unable to draw a breath or make a sound in protest, I push against your thighs with my hands and I begin to dig my fingernails into your skin as I really start to panic.

You respond by tightening your grip on my hair painfully and growling menacingly, "Stop fighting. Put your hands behind your back." I hear your words but can't process them. In a slower, more commanding tone, you repeat yourself, "Stop fighting! Put your hands behind your back!" The words register this time. For a second or two longer, I struggle to resist my instincts then quickly lower my hands and clasp them together on the small of my back. With that, you relax your painful hold on my hair and lift my head enough to open my airway.

I frantically draw precious air into my lungs. But this struggle has pushed you close to the edge and, after only a few seconds, you force my head down once again and fill my throat. Your cock seems to have grown even harder as you approach release. Your grip on my hair tightens slightly again as you move my head faster and faster, sliding in and out of my throat. You allow me only short gasps of air between thrusts, until that intense second before you cum. You press deeply into my throat and hold me there for a second or two...then pull back and shoot wave after wave of cum into my mouth,. You warning me not to swallow yet, knowing how much I hate to hold cum in my mouth.

Exhausted, you release your hold on my hair and allow me to slump on the floor at your feet. After resting a minute you rise from your chair and cross to the bar. You fix yourself a drink, return to the chair, then gently lift me up onto your lap and say, "Now you may swallow." I'm grateful and swallow quickly but, as the last drops slide down my battered throat, what had a few minutes ago been fear turned to anger and my temper flared. Pounding your chest with my small fist, I cry, "I hate you! Why do you do that to me?"

You chuckle, amused by my outburst, and say, "Because you have to learn to trust me. And because, my pet, I enjoy it." As you speak, you lower your hand between my legs, raising my skirt and exposing my freshly shaved pussy. I gasp as you slide a finger between my lips, now slick with my own arousal, and moan as you lightly brush over my sensitive clit. You raise your finger to my mouth and slowly spread my own wetness across my pouting lips, saying, with an evil twinkle in your eye, "And, on some deep dark level, so do you."