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The words from my boss snapped me back to reality. I'd lost myself for the past 10 minutes on his cock, using my mouth and tongue to make long, slow strokes along his shaft. He was perched against his desk, naked from the waist down, as I knelt before him. His pants were folded neatly across the back of the chair, while my much cheaper suit lay crumpled on the floor beside it. From his vantage point, he could see across the city from his 46th-story office.
I was naked except for the pink satin bikini panties that I wore at his behest. My cock strained against the tight fabric which made them cup tightly against my ass. I could feel the wet spot in front expanding as my dick leaked more pre-come into my pretty pink underwear.
"Answer me," he said, a note of irritation in his voice. "Do you want me to come in your mouth or in your pussy?"
Reluctantly, I let his 8-inch erection slip from between my lips. I gripped the base of his shaft and look up.
"Whatever you want, sir," I said.
"That's not what I asked."
"I love them both, sir," I said. "It's hard for me to choose."
He cupped the back of my head and directed his cock back into my willing mouth.
"I know what you mean," he said. "I love to come in your mouth, but I also love the idea of sending you to the Bowman disposition with my load slowly leaking into your panties. I bet you'd spend the entire time worried that the others could smell the sex on you and would find out just how much of a cum slut you really are."
His pace quickened with his words, and soon he was pumping his dick in my mouth. I thought he had made his decision, but I was wrong.
"Is your pussy wet?" he asked.
For a moment, I panicked. I was not expecting to be called to his office for one of our lunch meetings, and I had not used the fancy silicone lube he'd given me before answering his last-minute call. This was the first time I had not been prepared to please him, and I wasn't sure how he would react.
I slowly shook my head no, careful not to break the face-fucking rhythm he had established.
"That's a shame," he said. "I suppose I'll have to punish you for that. As for now, I have 15 minutes before my board meeting, so it will have to wait."
He pulled the back of my head toward him, burying his erection in my throat.
"I guess you chose after all," he said, as I massaged the underside of his shaft with my tongue. "That's it, work my dick. Earn this load of cum, you little slut. Swallow it all."
He arched his back and pushed against my mouth. I felt his dick begin to spasm and his warm cum filled my mouth and throat. I hungrily gulped it down.
He released my head, but I held his softening cock in my warm, wet mouth until he pulled away. As I dressed, he gripped my panty-covered ass.
"I will have a piece of this pussy," he said. "And soon."
My head was spinning as I made my way back to my little office on the other side of our floor. That I'd become my boss' cock whore and how it had all happened was almost more that I could believe.
* * *
I hate working Saturdays. I'd rather be home with my wife, running errands, watching football, or anything besides dragging my ass into the office in pursuit of as many billable hours as possible.
But that's the way it goes for a 30-year-old lawyer who hopes to be put on the track towards partnership. You gotta show The Man that you'll bust your ass for the firm.
Fortunately, my office was off by itself on the 45th floor of the downtown high rise of which my firm occupied two floors. I'd taken to using at least part of my weekend work time for some "me time."
Our internet usage wasn't tracked, or so these rumor went. I'd tested it early in my time at the firm, looking up a hardcore porn site that had a plausible, if tangental, connection to a case I was assigned. When no one raised any concerns, I figured I was free to surf to my heart's content.
I'd joined the firm right out of law school, six weeks to the day before I married Amber, my college sweetheart. In the ensuing five years, my work life and home life had settled into a routine: Work 50-60 hours a week. Fuck my wife two, maybe three times a week.
I love my wife and our sex was good, but rarely great. Almost like painting by numbers. If she came to bed wearing either her black lace thong, or red lace boyshorts, it meant she wanted sex.
After a few minutes of kissing, I would go down on her. Sometimes she would come, but usually she would pull me up and we'd finish in the missionary position. If she came from my pussy eating, I could coax her into some doggystyle.
Blowjobs were a "birthdays and anniversary" treat. While she made a good effort, I knew her heart wasn't in it. Most of the time, I'd let her fumble around down there for a few minutes, and then move her toward our standard intercourse.
Anything remotely kinky was out of the question. In fact, he hottest thing we ever did happened on our third anniversary. After splitting a bottle of wine with dinner, we'd split another while soaking and making out in the on-room hot tub at a fancy downtown hotel.
When we tumbled into bed, my cock was hard and slid easily inside her. The wine and the foreplay had me on edge, and the grip of her pussy was too much to resist. I came quickly.
Amber needed more.
"Please, baby," she whispered. "I'm so close. Will you taste me?"
I'd never eaten a freshly fucked pussy before, but I wasn't about to deny her. I slid between her legs. My cum was beginning to leak from her pussy and trail down her leg. I kissed her clit and began gently sucking it as my fingers sought her G-spot.
Amber gripped the back of my head as her hips rocked back and forth. The movement dragged my tongue from her clit toward her hole, which was stuffed with two of my fingers -- covered in the mixture of my cum and her juices.
With her holding my head, I couldn't avoid getting the mixture in my mouth. It was amazing. I loved the feeling of my sticky cum in my mouth, and the thought of eating it from her pussy made my dick jump, despite having just had an orgasm. As she moved faster, my fingers worked like pistons in her hole, while my tongue flicked against her clit.
"Oh God," she moaned. "That's me. That's me."
When her orgasm subsided, I slipped my fingers from her snatch and quickly licked them clean. My cock was fully erect and as I kissed my way up her torso, I pushed inside of her.
I lasted longer the second time, but probably not by much. As I buried my face in her neck and my cock in her pussy, I savored the taste of her pussy and my cum in my throat. I had eaten my first creampie.
The next morning, Amber rolled over in bed.
"Was it good for you?" she asked, kissing me on the forehead.
I told her it was the best ever, and asked the same. She smiled sheepishly.
"I'm sorry, baby," she said. "I remember making out in the hot tub, but that second bottle of wine erased the rest of the night. I was worried that I'd passed out on you before we made love."
Damn. She didn't remember. Which meant it was unlikely that a repeat would happen anytime soon. I knew that a sober Amber would never let me near her pussy after I'd come in it.
But I couldn't get the sight of her cum-fulled twat out of my mind. I jerked off repeatedly while reliving that night in my mind. My porn searches started steering toward creampies and creampie eating. I was obsessed.
Many of the clips on the internet purported to show a husband eating his wife's creampie after she'd fucked another man. The thought of eating another man's cum was as exciting as eating my own. It didn't bother me when I found clips in which the husband was "forced" to suck the other man's cock before his wife was fucked. I'd never had any sort of gay encounters before, but the sight of a man submitting to his wife and her lover was strangely erotic.
I think at first I lied to myself. I tried to see myself as the man getting his dick sucked. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. I wanted to be the cocksucker.
My in-the-shower jerk-off fantasies revolved around eating another man's load from my wife's pussy, or just taking the load directly from the man himself. And my porn viewing habits changed, too. I watched little straight porn. Nearly all the smut I watched when I should have been working was bi or gay. However, I never was attracted to men in the same way I am women. I never saw a man across the room and thought of sex with him as I might a beautiful woman. For me, it was all about the dick. I was attracted to cock, not necessarily the man attached to it.
Which is where I found myself on that Saturday morning. Alone in a nearly empty office, watching men fuck and suck on the internet. Normally, I have enough restraint not to jerk my cock in my office, but that day I was particularly horny. Amber had put me off all week and I was horny as hell.
I came across a clip on dudesnude.com that made my cock want to burst right through my pants. Shot with a handheld camera, it showed one man on his back, legs spread wide as his lover pushed his cock into his willing hole.
Both men moaned as the top pushed his length completely into the bottom's ass. As the top settled into a stony, steady pace, the bottom moaned and begged for more, his erect dick bouncing to the rhythm of these fucking he was taking.
When the bottom grabbed his dick and started stroking, I had to do the same. I unbuttoned my pants and reached in for my own hard cock.
I massaged my shaft as the bottom began to moan and shake, his cock shooting several long streams of cum across his belly. His orgasm triggered that of his lover, who buried his load deep in his ass.
I was still touching myself when movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked up to see Gary Compton, my firm's managing partner, standing in my doorway. I sat up with a shot and pulled my hand from inside my pants, even though it was obvious what I had been doing.
"Pardon me," Mr. Compton said, backing away from my door before turning and walking away.
I tried to call after him, but the words wouldn't come. I sat there in a daze for at least five minutes, wondering what to do. Should I go after him and try to explain? Beg for my job?
