Caught
CAUGHT
Keke
As soon as we walk into his office, all nervousness disappears. I want this. And I want it with him.
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, tracking his movement around the room with my eyes.
“You do,” he says simply.
“He left,” I responded, no need to waste time playing stupid.
“How long has it been?”
“A few months,”
“And you are already on the hunt? Someone to scratch your itch?”
“I am,” I tell him, resting my hip against the heavy chair facing his desk.
“He deserves no loyalty from you I guess,” he says, taking his chef jacket off, revealing a t-shirt that hugs every sinewy muscle. His chef pants are hanging low on his hips and I can just imagine the V hiding under his clothes. “Tell me–” he says, pulling my mind out of his pants, “how do you like it? Hmm? Fast and hard? Slow and soft, or nasty and dirty?” He continues to disrobe making my mouth water with each inch of flesh he reveals. I blink when he disappears through a door I didn’t even notice, but his voice reaches me over the distance.
“You may be ready to fuck yourself back to life but I need a shower. You can join me or you can stay here and prepare yourself, trust me you are going to need to be ready. I too haven’t fucked in a couple of months and I am eager to make up for lost time.”
Is he serious? He talks like it is a barter system situation going on. “I am used to above average,” I assure him. His laughter grazes my ears, and my jaw seizes tight, teeth pressing together until they ache. “Is there something I am not aware of that is funny?”
“Come here,” he demands and my feet are in motion before my mind registers that I am moving. As soon as he is in my sights my jaw drops, there he stands in all his naked glory looking like he came off an X-rated magazine. He is a work of art, he could be sculpted, painted and photographed and it would not be enough. He is wasted as a chef: he should definitely be a stripper or gigolo or something. I don’t miss an inch of his body but my eyes come to a screeching halt on the long, thick and heavy dick swinging between his thighs. My god!
“Give me your eyes,” he commands but it takes herculean strength to tear my eyes away from his dick to look at his smirking face. And just like that I am annoyed again. “Take a shower with me.” Another command, I think as he turns and walks his naked ass in the shower. How can a back be that sexy and the knife that covers his back has my tongue itching to trace the blade. A few seconds later the sound of water snaps me out of my daydream and I begin getting undressed. Thank god I went to get waxed or I would be looking like an Ewok. It only takes seconds to get naked, and before I know it, I’m walking into the stall with him. In for a penny in for a pound. Too late to turn back now, I think when he grabs me, pulling me deeper into the shower but he angles me to not wet my hair. “I hope you don’t mind smelling like a man, at least until you can get home,” he says, squeezing a generous dollop of his body wash on a net sponge and washing me with it. I have taken a shower with my estranged husband before and have even been washed by him but this is one of the most intimate experiences I have ever had.
He somehow managed to dim the lights and turn on some music and how the hell did I miss the candles. Avant’s Grown Man plays in the background as he strokes me, washing me.
“This is a beautiful body, lush and full. I am going to enjoy pushing you to the limit tonight kitten.” He pushes me against the glass shower wall as he rubs the cloth across my back. “Hands up and keep them there.” He is everywhere and I am holding on by a thread. He’s washed my back, legs, ass, and moved to my front, and by the time he reached my breasts the cloth is nowhere to be found. His hands lift my tits, rubbing them, squeezing them and I squeeze my thighs to try to get some relief from the ache spreading throughout my body.
But it’s when his hands start their downward ascent that I give up any semblance of pride, as the first “please,” spills from my lips.
“I intend to. Put your hands behind my head, lace your fingers together and leave them there.” He kicks my feet wider giving him more room to slide his finger between my slippery folds. “Hmm, warm and wet, just like I like it. Is she tight? Will she strangle me when I am on the inside of you, fucking you? Reaching depths you’ve only ever read about? Or will she be roomy letting me in, giving me enough space to fit every inch? Personally, I like it roomy. I like being able to stuff every inch inside without worrying that I am hurting someone. To know that the pussy I’m in is made for fucking, for taking every drop and enjoying it. I mean you can get to the same destination in a coupe or a full-size SUV but the SUV is so much more of a comfortable ride, don’t you agree?” I have no idea what he is talking about. As soon as his finger began rubbing my clit, I’ve been busy chasing my orgasm. But he’s good, he keeps changing the pressure or the rhythm allowing me to have pleasure but not release. Bastard.
“You will cum when I permit it and not a moment before,” he nips my ear. I almost cry when he moves his hand from my pussy. “Please no!” I cry out.
“I am still here kitten, I will take care of you but I too must wash,” I glance at the outstretched hands with another cloth and his body wash and snatch it out of his hands. For a brief second I debate on walking out of the shower and driving back home when he laughs at me. How cruel, he knows I am holding on by a thread and he is playing with me. What starts off as a quick wash turns into an exploration. There are myriads of scars on his hands and forearms and I want to ask what happened but I refrain.
“Oww!” the startled cry bounces around the stall when I squat down to wash his lower legs and feet but take a bite out of his ass since it’s eye level. “You’re a she-devil,” he tells me and I laugh, feeling good that I took him by surprise. “Enough of that, stand up and wash my dick.” Well damn, my pussy clenches in response to his forceful words. Walking up behind him I prepare to wash him when his words stop me. “Stand in front of me so I can see you when you touch my dick. I want to see your reaction, watch your eyes darken and your mouth water in desire to suck it, to make love to it with your throat.”
Holy fuck. The wetness between my legs has nothing to do with the steady stream of water. I stand in front of him reaching for his dick, “keep your eyes on me, kitten.” My fingers wrap around his length, and I bite my lip as his hooded eyes darken. “Base to tip Kitten, get to know him ’cause he will be in every available opening you have, every chance he can get.”
“Now?” I ask ready to feel him inside of me.
“Greedy. I want you to remember that when you’re running from me, and pleading with me to stop, remember that you begged for this. Stroke me.” Moving my hand from base to tip like I was instructed, I begin to masturbate him. It’s just a hand job right, it isn’t something I would think to do. It’s something I did when I was younger, when I wasn’t fucking but this feels more intimate than sex. His eyes never leave mine.
“Harder,” he demands, his hand cupping the back of my head forcing me to maintain eye contact. “Faster, I want you to make me cum with your hand.” He covers my hand with his free hand and begins fucking my fist. “Can you feel him slipping in and out of your fist? When I am long stroking your pussy, I want you to remember that he curves to the left, when you squirt all over me and drip from my balls, I want you to know it’s because the fat mushroom head that you keep squeezing is rubbing across your g-spot. And when your eyes are watering from how deep in your throat I am, I want you to remember how it’s sitting on your forearm while you grip the base. Open your fucking eyes, Kitten.”
My eyelids spring open. I am not sure when I closed them but the double stimulation of his dick in my hands and words in my head while he watches me has me folding like a lawn chair.
“Use both hands, I’m close.”
I wrap both hands around him, the water and soap making the slide smooth. “What will you do when I cum? Will you let it spill to the floor? Let it coat your hand? Will you drop to your knees and swallow or let the cum cover your face? Personally, I am torn between watching you drink my cum, seeing it all over that pretty face or letting me cum all over these tits: I wanna see my cum drip from your nipples.” I know he didn’t cum yet, but I sure as hell did. I practically bite through my lip when the orgasm rolls through me.
“You are sexy as fuck when you cum. I can’t wait to see how you look when you're having a real orgasm. Let me get this first nut out of the way so I can fuck you like you obviously need to be fucked.”
Our eyes lock, and I know he is ready, “Decisions, decisions,” he says and I drop to my knees as I continue to stroke him.
“Why choose,” I say looking up at him. The first rope hits my forearm, I aim the head higher causing the second rope to hit my chin, before swallowing the head and the next spurt coats my tongue and finally the last few spurts lands on my tits, specifically my nipple. I never once take my eyes from him.
The side of his mouth hitches up in a smirk, “Hmm, just like I thought… greedy.” Helping me to my feet we rinse off, turn off the shower, wrap ourselves in towels and step out of the shower. “Ready for the entree?”
“The entree? What was that then?”
“An appetizer.”