It was around 8pm I was just starting to get ready to go to the bath house when a regular emailed he was 15 minutes away. For him and my other most frequent visitors I'll wait. In the end he got called back into work so it was a no go. Too bad. I thought it'd be fun to go to the bath house with my hole already loaded with cum.
>I noticed that there was plenty of on street parking in front. This was probably a sign that it would be a slow night. I wasn't wrong. There were very few people. I had the sauna all to myself much of the time. I rinsed off and went to my room. It was right across from the stairway. Not ideal. Kept my ass-less shorts on and laid down and began stroking myself with one hand while I looked at Tumblr with the other. I had a loud video playing and a guy stopped to ask if I was ok. I guess that was his opening line. I invited him in. I stroked his cock as he explored between my legs. He had a solid stocky build and a bald head. Good looking guy. Some sucking and 2! reminders to wear a condom later, my shorts were off and he fucked me, hard. Not for long though.
I press my face between his cheeks and inhale. His odour is neutrally masculine, somewhat reminiscent of Irish Springs soap, and it elicits from my body an immediate response. My breasts swell and my nipples harden; my clit swells, emerging from its hood, and pussy lips engorge, blossoming outwards to glisten wetly against the silken fabric of my panties. I dart my tongue out, tasting the sweat of a hard day spent at the office, and slip a hand into my panties. As he lowers his weight upon my face, I masturbate myself frantically, exploring the smooth skin between his ass and his balls as I do so. Above me, impossibly far away, he groans in satisfaction, and I feel a rush of pride. He is a great man—powerful and influential—and I am lucky to be allowed the privilege of eating his ass.
Our sessions don’t last long, never more than half an hour, and they usually occur at a downtown hotel close to our respective offices. Of course, the management would freak out if they knew what went on behind the closed doors of the corporate suite, but we’re always careful not to be seen together (I leave ten minutes after him). Not that it affect my career, but I would rather die than embarrass him or negatively impact his life in any way, shape or form. He is my Master, my White God, and pleasing him gives my life meaning and purpose like nothing else ever could.
When I need to take a breath—I try to do so as infrequently as possible—I rub the inside of his thighs and he lifts himself briefly off my face. Such moments are bittersweet: I need to breathe to survive, that’s a given, but my survival instinct clashes with my will, my desire to serve, which demands I somehow learn to do without or get what I need from his body alone. However, as it stands, I suck in as quick a breath as possible, then return my nose between his cheeks and resume licking and sucking as though my life depends on it.
If I’m supremely lucky, or if I’ve done a good job, or sometimes if he’s feeling magnanimous (or a combination of all the above), he’ll let me suck his cock as a reward. But it is a rare treat, and I can count the number of times it’s happened on one hand, and today is not one of those occasions. Instead, while I eagerly lap his puckered asshole, he jerks himself off and cums on my chest. I feel it splatter, hot and sticky, across my tits, and that alone is enough to make me cum. I convulse beneath him, bucking my hips wildly as pleasure replaces all rational thought, and I bury my tongue as deeply into his ass as I can.
By the time I come back to my senses, he’s already dressed and is getting ready to leave. I’m still on the bed, still naked, his cum now dried to my dark skin. I thank him for his gift of precious seed, he smiles, and is gone. I get up, get dressed, and leave, wondering how long it will be before I get the chance to worship his ass again.
