Another day, as Mrs. Trophy Wife. I'm getting sick of it. Nothing I do in these situations seems to please you. Now the guests are gone, and it's my guess that my time for your punishment for me is drawing near. I go to the parlor and make us both a nice Scotch, neat. I wish it mellowed you out, but it doesn't, at least it usually doesn't. It does, however, make these confrontations easier for me to take. I go back into your office, put your drink down onto the desk, and take a deep swallow of mine. It burns going down......just what I need after this last fiasco.
I turn away from your desk and walk defiantly towards your office door. After your harsh words and unfair comments, I am no mood to reason with you.
My fingers barely brush the brass handle on the door, when I feel myself jolted forward, and pushed with force against the back of the door. I feel the full length of your body pressing into me, pushing me harder, harder against the rough oak. You grab my hands and pin them above me, taking the opportunity to press your chest against my back making sure that my tits are firmly crushed against the door.
I cry out in shock and anger but am silenced by a further jolt forward into the door, the hard handle knocking my hip bone. I feel your hot breath against my neck, inhaling and exhaling in an unsteady rhythm. After what seems like a lifetime, you lift your chin towards my ear and gently whisper, "I am your husband. You will NOT speak to me like that. You will treat me with RESPECT. You will NOT talk to me the way you did in front of those clients EVER again.......and MOST IMPORTANTLY......."
You pause for breath to emphasize your point,
"If you EVER make me look that stupid again, I will make sure everyone knows what a fucking little bitch you are. I'll let the boys take turns with you! You'd love that, wouldn't you?"
At your callous words I buck violently against you, shouting and swearing and breathing fast.
"Fuck you!" I scream back at you.
I feel my cheeks turn an angry pink. You effortlessly flip me over and pin my arms against the door once more. I see the humorous glint in your eyes, and I know that your words were said to invoke this reaction from me, to make me outburst angrily, to make me rise to your bait. I stare at you furiously, my breath quickening, my tits rising and falling with every angry breath.
"I think, my dear," you speak in a low, firm voice, "that your little tantrum was quite uncalled for. You certainly haven't learned your lesson."
And with that your body is pushed against me once more, my hands still pinned by yours above my head. You bring your head closer and begin to kiss my neck aggressively. I move my head in protest but am quickly warned by a short, sharp bite on my earlobe. You press the length of your body against me harder and harder. My breath quickens and I feel my body responding to your lust. Your mouth is on my neck, sucking and tugging at the skin with your teeth.
I stand, crushed, against the oak door, hating you and wanting to make you pay, but my body betrays me. I realize I am grinding my groin against the large bulge that has formed in your trousers. My arms are no longer above my head, but are scratching, tearing at your shirt. You head has now moved lower, and your mouth is positioned at the top of my breast, your teeth and tongue expertly biting and sucking my soft skin. You calmly, with one hand, tear open my shirt buttons and tear the shirt from my shoulders, releasing my aching breasts. I try to match your manner, but it's too late. I cannot remain calm; you have me exactly where you want me. I frantically, urgently tear at your shirt, my fingers fumbling at the buttons. You lift your head and I see a flicker of a smirk run through your face.
At last I manage to free your body of your shirt. Your hand slides around my back, and in one skilled movement you unhook my bra, free my arms and let it fall to the floor. Knowing that my overly sensitive nipples are my weak spot, your fingers find my nipples and I throw my head back and let out a soft moan as you pinch and pull at them. Your mouth replaces your hand, and you start your nibbling, biting assault on my puffy nipples. Your hands slide around my hips and on to my buttocks. You lift me up, mouth still on my nipple and I wrap my legs around you, pushing myself against your growing bulge.
You walk over to your desk chair and sit down with me straddling your lap. I feel you lick and bite one nipple as your fingers savagely pinch and pull at the other. I arch my back, pushing my breasts against you, letting out long, loud moans at the wonderful sensations running through me. I begin to run my hands down your chest and rub my fingers over your hard cock which is still caged within your trousers.
I tear my breasts away from your mouth and let myself slide on to the floor. I kneel, facing you and begin to unzip your fly. I release your cock and run my fingers up and down its shaft, teasing you. You don't bat an eyelid and in frustration I let my nail carelessly scratch the tip of your penis.
"You know better than to do that," you say with a smirk. Suddenly your hands are on the back of my head, knotted in my hair.
"Time for a little face fucking, yes?" you ask. You pull me forward and I take your cock in my mouth. Grabbing my hair with both hands, you guide my head up and down on your cock. I pump the base of your cock with one hand and, at the pace you set, I slide my mouth up and down, up and down the shaft, licking the head as often as I can. I feel a damp patch start to form in my knickers. I look up at you with innocent eyes in a way that I know drives you wild. I blink innocently while my wet lips slide up and down the full length of your penis. I hear you let out a low groan and know that you are close.
