We have our rituals. He likes me to wait for him opposite the elevator at 5pm exactly, so that I can be there to greet him as soon as the doors open. I perch on the back of the pink velour couch, checking my reflection in the golden elevator doors, making sure that my body is in a position that emphasises it's smooth litheness and that my hair is falling just so. Sure enough, at 5pm exactly the doors open and there he is, My Great Leader, as tall and grand as an oak. I run to him as he exits, throw my arms around his neck. He bends down and kisses me hungrily.
"Good evening, my darling," he says as he finally breaks away from the kiss. He pulls me away from his body by my arm. "Let me see you in this."
His gaze falls down my entire body, taking in the see-through robe, my breasts as high as apples in my bra, the way my thong sits snugly on my hip bone.
"Exquisite," he says, and I feel butterflies of pride.
"Come on, sweetheart," he says, leading me by hand to the bedroom. I watch him as he walks ahead of me. His short, curly grey hair is cut closely to his head. His beard emphasises his strong chin. He wears a grey woollen overcoat atop a brilliantly cut suit.
"Come here," he says, as he closes the bedroom door behind us (though Maid would never in a million years come in to interrupt us). He pulls me to him and kisses me again, this time more aggressively. I'm close to his body and I can feel his huge, hard erection. He is very ready for me. He must have had a tough day. He strokes his hands all over my body, brushing over my tits, falling to cup my ass cheeks. He slides my gauzy robe off of my shoulders and lets it glide to the floor. When he removes my outer layer, it's my time to go to my knees. Another ritual of ours.
He unzips his fly and brings out his dick, which is as hard as a rock. His cock is huge; I can fit both hands around it comfortably and there is still a lot of it left over. He pulls my hair together at the nape of my neck and twists it around his hand, so that he has control of my head. I open my mouth wide, and he inches his full cock inside it, pushing my head down on it when it seems impossible it will go further. I gag but I don't stop. I'm a pro at this.
He fucks my mouth, thrusting in and out rhythmically. I keep my eyes open and looking up at him, maintaining eye contact as I know that he likes. He looks straight into my eyes and murmurs soft things to me (gorgeous, perfect) as he rams his cock into the back of my throat again and again. My eyes are watering from the strain, but just as it is becoming hard to breathe, he pumps his cum down my throat. He's moaning hard with pleasure, satisfaction and relief. I swallow the warm liquid down and playfully show him my tongue.
"Good girl," he says approvingly, then he takes my hand and gently pulls me into standing position. He gives me a peck on the lips and moves his hands over my body, slightly more relaxed now that I've satisfied him once. He slips my bra straps off of my shoulders and undoes the clasp with one hand, letting the bra fall to the floor with an imperceptible thud. My breasts sit pert and neat on my chest, the nipples hard and standing to attention for him. Taking a tit in each hand, he reverently plays with them, smushing them together, then he lifts them one by one and puts them in his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently on each nibble. I moan with arousal.
"You like that, don't you?" he says.
"Yes, Sir," I sigh. He gives a little grunt. He likes me calling him Sir.
"You are a treasure," he says, moving his hand down my flat brown stomach and nudging my G string off. "My little treasure."
He eases his hand in between my legs. My pussy is warm and wet, waiting for him, needing him. I moan, louder this time, as he teases my clit. My ecstasy sparks something in him.
