Page 61 of Please, Sir

He stops his pacing, and with the hand not ominously gripping his flogger, he pumps himself. I can’t look anywhere but at his strong hand stroking himself. Emptiness echoes between my hips, and beneath my tongue, saliva floods. My body knows that, destined for me, this cock is my savior, my everything, and I want it. I want him.Now.

“Please, sir,” I beg, watching with rapt focus as an opaque bead forms on the dark slit. He steps up to me, releasing his cock which stands strong and steady on its own. Plunging his fingers into my hair, Jake yanks my face forward, sending the wide tip of his crown into my mouth, thrusting toward the back of my throat.

I cough. I gag. I choke. But it only lasts a few seconds before he’s stepping back, giving me a chance to breathe. My own spit slips down my chin, rolling under my throat and down my neck. Our eyes come together, and I don’t know what he’s asking, but my answer is yes. I nod, I nod and whisper, “More, sir.”

He rears back, the wild tails of the flogger spreading like fire against my throat, wet with spit from being allowed to suck his meaty cock.

“Three,” I moan, the number sounding akin to foreplay as my head sinks forward, seeking relief from the sting.

“Tell me, Miss Riley, did you think about me after we met?” he asks, grabbing me by the hair again, jerking my mouth to the tip of his cock. I stick out my tongue but he jerks back, not allowing me the sweet taste of him. “Answer,” he commands.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, I thought about you, yes.” The words rush out of me as a tremble starts in my core, my belly shaking, my thighs spasming, desperately anticipating his next move. My heart is racing, but not like how it does when I take a run or workout with the cheerleaders.

This is something else.

Adrenaline. Desire. Release.

He plunges his cock onto my tongue, surging deeper into my throat as he curves his muscled body over me, striking again, the loose tails of his toy hot and painful against my lower back. Reactively, my spine arches as I cry, “Four! Four!” the moment he empties my mouth. The weight I carried to his front door just over an hour ago is gone, completely evaporated.

I tip my head back, tears stinging my eyes, but my vision is still clear. He stands over me, stroking himself, and I open my mouth to catch the precum that threads between his cock and my tongue.

“You sure twenty-four is your favorite number?” he teases, rearing back to whip me again, this time across my breasts.

I suck in a breath, pointed, as my body grows rigid, attempting to stay strong as pain radiates through my chest. My nipples hurt and my skin burns, but everything is warm and fuzzy between my legs, hungry for more, starved for Jake.

“Count,” he reminds me, tone firm but not loud. Jake is powerful without volume, commanding without touch, in control with just a look.

“F-five,” I stammer, a little more pain setting in along my chest and lower back, my mind grows clearer, the clouds of depression and confusion opening wide, giving way to clarity.

“You’re not ready for twenty-four, Riley. But you’re handling the whip so well, you look so peaceful right now.” He lets the ends of the flogger tease me, dragging them lightly down my spine before coming to stand in front of me. Gathering my hair in his fist, he gently tugs my head back. Using his free hand, he guides his cock to my mouth. He doesn’t have to tell me to open.

My jaw parts and I open wide, arousal warming my center as his veiny length slides heavily onto my tongue. He holds himself there, my body quivering and throbbing relentlessly for him as he pinches my chin. “You ready to open up for me?”

I nod, still suckling his tip the way he wants.

“It’s gonna hurt,” he warns, lending me another inch.

Again, I nod on his cock.

He pushes my head back, the butt of his palm pressing hard into the crown of my skull, causing pain to radiate through my temples. A rush of heated delirium comes along with the pain, and I love it. “Ready?”

I nod a third time, and he reaches back, freeing the binding on my wrists with just a few strong tugs. He slips his hands under my arms, and lifts me over his shoulder without a grunt before carrying then positioning me on the bed.

I notice two of his floggers, the handles stitched with gold thread, the leather embossed with paisley patterns all over. I reach for the more ornate of the two, sliding the supple fabricbetween my fingers. Jake climbs onto the bed between my legs as I study the beautiful craftsmanship. “You’re so talented. I love the pattern, it’s beautiful,” I say with awe, lifting my tone as I twist the toy, analyzing his handiwork from all angles.

He lifts it from my hand, then hovers over me, his body weight suspended by one elbow sunken into the mattress, near my shoulder. His free hand slips between our bodies, and my clit blooms in anticipation, but Jake ignores it. Hardness kisses, then nudges, past my wet lips, and our gazes intertwine as he cautiously pushes the shaft of the flogger inside me, making my walls spasm and my toes curl.

“Gotta warm this tight pussy up a little,” he drawls, his nostrils flare, broad chest sinking against mine with every weighted inhale. “Stretch you,” he adds, gently charging the handle in and out of me. His thumb comes to my clit on the fifth or six pass, and I let out an absolutely feral moan.

“Yes,” I beg, lifting my head off the bed to look between us. His cock is ready, and from this angle, it seems even bigger than before. Like standing at the bottom of the Washington Monument and looking up.

He gives me more of the handle, and before long, he can’t wait. He slides it out of me with a rush, hollowing me. With the bottle of lube in his hand, he flips the top open with a click, and my pulse jumps.

“I’m gonna put some on me, and I’m gonna put some inside you, too. Are you ready, Riley?” He asks, as I watch him twist his hand while he pumps, leaving his veiny shaft glistening.

“I’m ready,” I promise.

He takes my hands, pressing them against my lower stomach. “Hold them there.”

---