Where Do You Want My Cum?

Grasping the edges of the table, I squeezed my eyes closed, the orgasm continuing to rip through me.

      “Where do you want my cum?” he asked. “All over your face with the rest of Daddy’s friends’ loads, down your hot little throat”—he dipped his head, mouth against my ear—“or buried in your cunt?”

“Inside me, please.”

“You want me to get you pregnant in front of all my friends?” he murmured into my ear, nipping at it lightly, his voice low and gruff, the way it always was moments before he shot his load into me.

Thoughts of him getting me pregnant hit harder than when Mr. Archer said it, but I'll never tell him that. Mr. Archer fuc'ked me good in his own way.

"You want Daddy's cum in you, huh?"

“Yes,” I cried out, pussy pulsing around him, waves of pleasure rushing through me.

      Daddy thrust into me twice more, his hands grasping my waist tightly and his mouth on mine. “Oh fuck,” he said, dragging the word out. “Celene, you’re such a good girl. Such a good fucking”—he slammed his cock into me and stilled—“girl.”

      After a couple moments, Daddy pulled himself out of me. “You’ve done so good,” Daddy whispered into my ear, pushing some cum off my chin and staring me in the eyes with his dark yet comforting eyes.

“I’m going to clean you up and take you home for the night. Would you like that?”

I whimpered and nodded, eyes wide.

He grabbed my hand and gently pulled me off the conference table, his arm slipping around my waist. “I’m taking Celene home, then to dinner. Reschedule whatever I have, no matter how important.”

“You don’t have to,” I started.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

And he did. He still does in more ways than one.

At this point in my writing, I'm beginning to feel like a slut, but I'm in way too deep to stop now, so I'll tell you about someone else,  another older man that made my pussy soak till juices slid down my thighs.

Mr. Chris. My Boss.

Since I was a girl, it had been my dream to work here, doing any sort of job, and last week, I was finally offered the position as the assistant for the CEO of the company. Wink wink.

      “Hold the elevator!” someone shouted.

Just before the doors closed, I slipped my arm between them, making them reopen.

There he was, An older man with devilish brown eyes, small lines on his forehead, and a head full of thick brown hair with streaks of gray in it hurried into the elevator, a phone to his ear.

When he looked at me, I smiled nervously and glanced down at my toes.

The elevator closed its doors and began traveling up the elevator shaft to the top floor. “Going to the top floor too?”

“Yes,” I said, glancing over at him and smiling.

Lips curling into a smile—or was that a smirk?—he tilted his head to the side to peer at me with those intense brown eyes. “What’s your name?”

      “Celene, ” I said, shifting under his gaze for a few moments. When I realized that I didn’t ask for his, my cheeks flamed. I opened my mouth as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. “And—”

      Before I could finish my sentence, he walked out of the elevator and looked back at me. “Well, have a great first day here, Celene. I hope you enjoy yourself here.”

      For a few moments, I stared at his departing figure. How’d he know it was my first day?

      After shaking my head to urge myself to forget it, I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure, and walked out of the elevator to the desk.

     

      “Okay, Celene. You’re all finished. I think it is time you meet our CEO, Mr. Chris. His office is all the way down the hall and to the left.” the receptionist said to me, snapping me put of my thoughts.

      When I made it to his door, I took a deep breath, promised myself not to fuck this up, and knocked twice on his door. Rubbing my sweaty palms together, I tried to breathe evenly to calm my racing heart, but I had been anxiously waiting to meet him all morning.

      “Come in,” someone called from inside the room.

I walked into the room and saw the man from the elevator leaning over a large desk and hundreds of papers.

When he saw me standing, dumbfounded, in his doorway, he stood up and threw me another one of those devilish smiles.

      “Celene, I hope you’re having a good first day. I looked over your profile this morning, and I am pleased to be working with someone like you.”

      My lips parted slightly as I stumbled over my words to figure out something to say. Was I stupid or just plain dumb? Why hadn’t I put two and two together earlier this morning? Not many people worked on the twentieth floor of this building.

      “I-I-I … sorry. I should’ve—I should’ve—” Damn, what was wrong with me? Why the hell was I reacting like this with him? I had never been this nervous with any other employer. “I’m glad to be working with you too.”

      He walked around his desk, leaned against it, and crossed his arms, his suit tightening around his biceps. “No need to be nervous, Celene. I promise that I don’t bite,” he said, tongue gliding against his front teeth.

And stupid me waited for him to finish with, Unless you want me to.

At the thought, my cheeks flamed even hotter. I couldn’t help to think that there was another meaning to his words—a meaning that I was giving them.

He was my boss. I couldn’t be thinking about stuff like that, especially on the first day. My slutty mind was getting the better of me.

After showing me to my office—which looked nearly identical to his with a huge bookshelf, large floor-length windows, and a grand red-oak desk—he placed his hand on my back and guided me back to his room.

      “There is something that I didn’t include in the job description when you applied,” he started, squeezing my shoulder slightly and moving to my side to whisper in my ear. “Most days are long and stressful for me.”

With his voice so deep and so low in my ear, I shivered and clenched. Fucking clenched.

“Well, I can help with that,” I said, not really knowing what I was getting myself into.

“You will help.”

It wasn’t a suggestion but a coldhearted demand which I knew very well. I just didn't want to believe it.

“How?” I asked, feeling more warmth pool between my legs, the longer this man stood beside me.

He moved behind me, his body centimeters from mine, and trailed his fingers around my waist.

Stubble brushing against the column of my neck, he took my earlobe between his lips and tugged on it slightly. “Like this,” he said, undoing the first button on my top.

I knew exactly where this was going, my slutty pussy knew it also, and the hungry bitch was excited.