Tenure

32. Kiernan

32

Kiernan

JesusfuckingChrist.

It smarts like a bitch, my whole body jumping at the contact, but I can also already feel my nipples tightening. I’m instantly wet for him. Wet for this.

SMACK.

I groan, low and loud, dropping my forehead on the centre console. Why does this feel so good? Is it supposed to feel this good?

SMACK.

“Fuck,” I whimper.

SMACK.

“The ONLY time”—SMACK—“I will see your tongue”—SMACK—“is when you’re licking my cock.” SMACK “ Do you understand? ”

I nod.

SMACK.

“Yes!” I shout.

SMACK.

“Yes, what. ”

“Yes, sir!”

I hear the frantic clinking of a belt and his laboured breathing as he grips my hips and pulls me out of the car, my dress falling back down as he turns me to face him, fingers roughly gripping the back of my hair.

“Show me you understand, Kiernan.”

I sink to my knees right there on the fucking asphalt, desperate to please him. He’s driven across town, picked me up at the door, made it clear I’m not a dirty secret , and is about to take me out for a very public dinner. He’s been . . . kind of perfect, honestly, and I suddenly regret giving him such a hard time as he stands there with his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the tip shiny with cum. I hesitate, nerves taking over, unsure what to do.

I look up at him, his chest in his cashmere sweater heaving, eyes dark.

“Tell me what to do?” I whisper.

His face softens a little, his fingers loosening their grip and his hand gently caressing the back of my head.

“Open your mouth,” he says. His voice sounds a little strained.

I do it immediately.

“Wrap your lips around me. Watch your teeth.”

I lean forward and gently suck him into my mouth, opening my jaw wider to accommodate the size of him, a strange, heady, salty taste flooding my tongue. I close my eyes, luxuriating in the flavour of him and the odd, strangled moan he’s making, before I open them again and stare up at him, sliding a little bit farther down his shaft.

“Good, baby, that’s good,” he chokes out.

I experiment a little, pressing my tongue to the underside of his dick, sealing my mouth tighter, closing all the space in my mouth.

“Fuck!” he grits out, head thrown back. Intuitively I reach up and put my hand over his, easing it off his cock as I take over, wrapping my fingers around him and continuing to slide my mouth downwards until my lips are bumping into my hand.

I squeeze my fist as I slowly start sliding my mouth back up.

“Uh huh,” he says, “Yeah, like that. Just . . . like that.”

I do it all again and his hands both fist in my hair, but he doesn’t push me, just sucks a breath in through his teeth and lets me keep going, my tongue exploring freely, my hand starting to rotate and pump a little bit, taking my time, enjoying the feel of him in my palm, in my mouth, against my tongue . . . I can’t get enough of this. It makes me feel like a god. I continue to lick and suck, torturously slow, his cock leaking like crazy onto my tongue, the taste of him sliding down my throat already, and he isn’t even finished.

“Goddammit, can you speed up, please? You’re going to kill me.”

I repeat the motion, slower this time.

“If you don’t speed up on your own I will fucking make you, ” he snarls.

Without thinking, I take my hand off his dick, reach around to grip his ass cheeks, and pull him forward so hard he hits the back of my throat.

“Shit!” he shouts, his cock jumping in my mouth as my throat floods with cum.

I choke, more out of surprise than anything. His cock is too big, my mouth stretched wide, and even though it’s choking me my lips still aren’t at the base. I can’t breathe properly, and I need to swallow, and I’m afraid cum is about to start leaking out of my mouth. He seems to notice because he grips my hands on his ass and eases them away, shifting his hips backwards an inch or two so I can breathe and attempt to swallow before I spill him all over my damn dress.

He grunts a few more times, and then seems to relax a little, and I ease my mouth off of him entirely, my jaw aching, before I look up at him again. His eyes bore into mine as I stick my tongue out and lick the head of him clean, strands from the remnants of his cum stretched between his dick and my mouth. When I’m sure there’s not a fucking drop left, I trace my lips with my forefinger and then lick it clean, too.

“I understand, daddy,” I say.