My leg nervously rocks beneath me in my desk chair as I look at my phone. 11:58 a.m. Shit. I unlock it, scroll over to my text messages and open up my message for fag. "Two minutes, boy, and I'm heading your way. You'd better be hungry." It was lunchtime.
I hop into my car, buckle up, and drive the 3 short miles to his workplace. As I drive up, I see fag waiting outside, his tailored pants perfectly outlining his tight ass, and my cock instinctively jumps. Fag starts to walk over to my car, opens the passenger door, and sits inside. As he closes the door, I allow my mind to wander to the thought of how I was about to destroy his full lips, and I feel my cunt getting wet.
Fag turns his gorgeous blue eyes to mine and shyly inquires, "What's for lunch, Sir?" Unconcerned that we were still in front of his place of business, I confidently slide my hand between his legs and tightly grip his thigh to remind him that, for the next 20 minutes, his body was my personal fuck toy. "You'll know when you need to know, faggot," I bark. I put my car into reverse and make the short drive to the nearby abandoned warehouse that would serve as the semiprivate environment for the lust that was to come.
Once I had selected the appropriate spot, I put my car into park and turn to the boy. Feeling my cock throb insistently, I graze my hand along the side of his neck and slide my thumb across his lower lip before inserting it into his wet, hungry mouth. His eyes grow wide as he envelops my thumb and gently begins sucking. "What a good boy! Are you showing me how ready you are for lunch, queer?" He silently nods as he continues drawing the shaft of my thumb in and out of his delicious mouth before I abruptly remove it from his mouth and wrap my hand firmly around his throat. "Get in the backseat," I instruct, impatient to begin our play.
The fag quickly gets out of the passenger side of my car and hops into the backseat and I follow him, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck as I get in. Pulling him close to me in a passionate kiss, I grab his hair to remind him of my control and I feel him jump. I hiss in his ear, "You need your mouth on my cock, don't you, you filthy faggot?" and feel his body sink against mine. He enthusiastically nods his head as much as he can manage with my hand still firmly gripping his hair, and my cunt begins to ache. "Well, you know how I like it," I order.
I release his hair so he can lean down and eagerly begin unzipping my jeans. I feel him firmly grip my shaft and pull my cock out of my pants as he inhales sharp breath and slides the condom onto me in one fluid motion. He fixes his blue eyes on mine and quietly asks, "Please, Sir, may I service your cock?" I pinch his ear between my thumb and forefinger, causing fag to wince, before narrowing my eyes and bellowing, "Louder, boy. Tell me what you want for lunch." Fag gulps, eyes wide again as he clears his throat before more loudly repeating his previous request.
"Good boy," I purr as I sweetly pet his head. "You may." Boy eagerly parts his lips and sinks my cock into his mouth, slowly pulling my shaft deeper into his throat. "Mmmmm," I moan, already finding it difficult to maintain my composure. Fag looks up from my lap, locking eyes with mine again as he wraps his delicate hand around the base of my dick, slowly milking it in time with his mouth. I roll my eyes back into my head as I quietly hiss, "Fffffuck."
Queer gradually increases the pace of his mouthfucking, his ragged exhales spreading the distinctive scent of my condom throughout my car. I wrap the palm of my hand around the base of his neck, confidently guiding his rhythm. As my hips flex to meet his face, I feel myself growing close to release.
