Chapter 14 #2
“And you don’t know shit about beach attire.” Her wet, pointed finger makes an up, down motion at his wardrobe. “You’re overdressed for lunch at Shady Beach.”
“It’s a high-end golf resort and spa,” Garcia immediately argues. “I’m dressed accordingly.”
“You’re dressed like you’re going on an interview or are there to inspect them for a Michelin key rating.”
“Board shorts and floral button downs don’t exactly scream ‘I’m here to do business’.”
“And grandpa’s linen suit doesn’t exactly say ‘I’m blending in’.”
“Este no es un traje de abuelo.”
“Yes.” She rapidly nods. “Yes, it is.”
His focus shifts back to me. “Toy…”
Not whimpering is impossible.
“How do you think Master looks?”
“Objection!” calls out Salay from the tub. “Influencing the witness.”
“Overruled,” Garcia impishly murmurs prior to leaning his face closer to mine. “Tell me what Master’s favorite little fuck toy thinks of what he’s wearing…”
The words come out in choked fashion, “That I wanna see what’s underneath…”
He arrogantly grins and tips his chin down. “Unbuckle.”
My hands get to work before my brain even has a moment to truly process the request.
Which is a common coding issue when it comes to all things Victor Garcia.
Once I’ve finished the simple task, he instructs, “Unzip.”
I do.
I immediately lower the metal towards the floor and watch the gray fabric material lifelessly fall to his socks covered ankles, as a result leaving his black boxer briefs exposed for us to admire.
Keeping my fingers to myself instead of cupping the bulge begging for them should earn me a fucking medal.
Or a certificate.
Do they give out certificates for being well-behaved submissives?
“Such a good boy,” praises the man I can’t ever seem to get enough of.
“Reward him,” Salay sultrily demands. “Good little, fuck toys should always be rewarded.”
“And bad, little princesses should always be punished,” he refutes in a gravelly tone.
“What am I being punished for?”
“Getting my suit wet.”
“You shouldn’t even be wearing that suit.”
“And now I won’t be because it’s wet.” He winks in her direction.
It’s not that wet.
But I also don’t think he should wear it.
And I double also don’t want him putting anything back on.
At least not yet.
“Fine,” she waggishly concedes. “I’ll take my punishment in the form of a can look but not touch situation.”
“Council agrees,” Garcia’s purring precedes him relocating one hand to wind around the nape of my neck. “Be a good boy and take Master’s cock out.”
Yet again my top-level security clearance level of dexterity comes in handy.
Pun absolutely intended.
Getting his boxer briefs down his toned thighs takes much less effort than stopping myself from swiping away the drop of precum that’s pebbling along his slit, making my mouth water and dick thump.
He tightens his hold at the same time he commands, “Now yours.”
Courtesy of our collective, insatiable appetites, I’ve come to the conclusion it’s better for minimal amounts of clothing to always be worn.
Keeping her bent over when she’s already bending for a quick round is much easier when the only material between us is a thin string or a convenient towel opening, just like getting my cock sucked at two in the morning on my way back from the bathroom when someone’s finished their latest bottle of tequila or summary judgment motion is much easier when all it takes is one literal yank to have access to my balls.
It isn’t difficult to drop my bottoms; however, continuing to stay upright when he grasps both of our dicks in one hand is definitely more challenging.
“Mas…” struggles to creep free in between airy pants.
“I fucking love when you can’t finish my name,” he smugly states during a long stroke.
“When you can’t keep your fucking eyes open.
” I don’t even realize they’ve begun to shut until he digs his digits deeper into my neck.
“Eyes down.” Despite their hooded nature they drop.
“Watch how good this shit looks.” He roughly works us from root to tip a second time.
“Watch how good you make Master feel.” A third.
“How good he makes you feel.” A fourth. “How perfect your cum looks on my cock.” Delicious dizziness threatens to tip me over as my hips thoughtlessly thrust forward.
Desperately grind me against his dick. “Your balls.” He purposely misses the next to caress them instead.
“Me encanta lo hinchados que están para mí…”
The claim in Spanish about loving how swollen they are for him leads to them tightening.
Salay softly moaning in the background.
“You like when Master has your balls like this?” teases the man lasciviously rolling them around. “Tugs?”
Any ability to breathe ceases.
“Bofetadas?”
One tiny tap to my nuts sends a tingle up my spine, while the next sets every one of my nerve endings on fire.
“Fuucckkkk,” Master animalistically grunts, grasp winding around both of our shafts again as our girl’s airy whining increases in volume.
“You’re such a good, little fuck toy…” Unsure of what I’ve done to receive the praise simply pushes me to pump into his motions in hopes of receiving more.
“Making my palm nice and wet.” His jerks grow faster.
Needier. “Fucking it.” This time I consciously heave harder.
“Good boy.” Master’s wolfish glare bores into mine.
“Keep fucking it.” Bucking up into his barbaric stroking deepens the burning in my lungs and my limbs and neck that are all crying out for reprieve, just not louder than my balls begging to bust. “Keep fucking Master’s cock…
” The sound of his choppy breathing fusing with Salay’s sends a 403 error code to my entire system.
“Punishing our slutty, little princess…” Erraticism persists.
Transposes into something knee wobbling primitive.
“Show her what she can’t fucking have.” Feeling his swollen tip rubbing against mine sways my frame in surrender.
“Show her what only Master can have right now.”
“Shit!” Loud, almost inhumane roars rip free from my throat as I attempt to throw my head back in ecstasy only to have it pushed forward to force me into drinking in the sight of my cum showering his cock. “Ohshit!”
“Such a perfect, little fuck toy…” Hunger drenched grumbles fill the air alongside continued stroking, Master literally bathing his cock in the sweltering hot spurts still spewing.
“Making such a filthy mess on me.” Without warning, he forces me to kneel, knees landing in the stickiness that’s managed to land on his abandoned suit.
“Fucking clean it up.” One yank forward has my mouth meeting his sack. “Don’t leave a drop for her to find.”
Pouty moans are thrown from the tub; however, they almost instantaneously stop registering when my sloppy sucking begins.
Spit and cum and cum and spit get savagely smeared across my lips and chin and cheeks.
“Si…Si…”
My tongue unremittingly hangs out to be ridden.
Stamped.
“You want that cum?”
More spit is spread in tandem with my stomach knotting.
“You want Master’s cum all over your fucking face?”
I maniacally nod.
Huff.
Damn near hump the floor.
“Suck,” he instructs, stroking transitioning to a haphazard form.
“Suck. Hard.” Closing my mouth around both balls at once to complete the command results in his forehead falling forward and growls pouring themselves out past his gritted teeth.
“Good boy.” Sudden twitches against my tongue precede salty surges pitilessly plummeting onto my face.
“Such a good fucking boy…” Them falling like tears running down my cheeks is abruptly ended by him unexpectedly cupping my cheek and rumbling words I would do anything to hear for the rest of my life. “My. Good. Boy.”