15 Days Until Nicole Returns to Work

By the time Nicole settles herself, showers, and gets to bed, Huck is already in it, naked, waiting for her. He pats his thigh near his cock. "Come on up here, babe, and give me a nice slow, wet, and soothing blow job. No need to get me off. I'll eventually fall asleep if you do it right."

Nicole did as he asked, and, to her surprise, it was exactly what she needed, too. It was relaxing to focus on being gentle with his cock. Taking long, slow licks, she kissed it and occasionally bobbed her head slowly up and down. When he releases a soft "perfect," she feels proud. "You're a goddamn prize heifer. A pervy little freak, but a real treasure."

Nicole didn't love being called a heifer or a pervert, for that matter, but she'd take it. She realized that they were affectionate pet names when Huck said those soft insults. And she had to admit that she loved that he saw her as a treasure. In spite of his foul nature, it made her want to do her best. She had to fight the growing urge to get him off. Sleep and not cum was the goal.

As if sensing her growing eagerness, she feels his hand on her head. Huck pets her gently. "Settle down, babe; I need my beauty rest for our trip tomorrow. Your only right now is relaxing me."

Nicole looks up. "Trip?" Going anywhere with him wasn't something she considered or was sure she wanted. In her apartment, she was safe and secure, well, aside from the lesbians who were probably going to **** her when they saw his truck was outside all night.

"Shhh, shhh, no questions or thinking. Lick and suck." His fingers ran down her back. It was soothing to feel those big sausages on her flesh. She hadn't realized she was missing being gently touched until now.

"Sorry, honey," she replies, remembering his request to call him 'honey' at poker. She goes back to work licking and suckling. This is her purpose. She can worry about where they might be going when he falls asleep.

As Nicole gently worked his cock she thought about the swirlie Huck had given her barely an hour ago. He'd said he used to do that all the time in high school, which meant he was a bully. It made sense. She reflected on her high school days. She wasn't unpopular, but she also wasn't popular. She wasn't bullied, but she was never invited to the cool kid parties. She was also never invited to the loser kids' parties. By the time she was in her senior year, the bullied kids had found one another and were becoming cool punks and goths. She envied both groups because they both belonged to something. She had some good friends. They'd talk about boys and shop and go to the amusement park, but it never felt like she had a group identity. She was always Nicole, the nice girl, but rarely acknowledged. And when she walked the halls, she was always weirdly jealous of the attention the unpopular kids received, even if it was mean.

She remembers craving the bullying and trying to do things to get that attention. It never worked. She even attempted to get the unpopular kids to invite her to one of their game nights, but they always said they didn't have room.

Soon, Nicole hears Huck softly snoring. She slips his cock from her mouth and looks up at him. Is that why she was so willing to keep going along with this? Is it why she allowed Tabitha and Kennedy to be mean to her earlier in the night? Did all go back to that desire to be bullied? Nicole briefly thought she should see about getting a therapist but pushed that idea away. If she was honest with herself, although she was exhausted and feeling out of control, she was also the happiest she'd been in a long time.

Nicole cuddles up with the large man. She whispers, "Good night, my bully," and drifts off to sleep on his massive belly.

Nicole is woken by a smack on her ass and the gruff voice of Huck. "Babe, I need coffee and then breakfast. Hop to it." He lights a cigarette as she shakes off her sleep.

Groggily, she tells him he can't smoke in her apartment, especially not on her bed.

He inhales and then blows a puff of smoke in her face. "Free use," is all he says. It doesn't make any sense in the context of their relationship. Smoking in her bed isn't using her in any way, shape, or form. Still, she's learning not to argue with his logic because he'll only will his reality of what free use means into existence.

She huffs, waving the smoke away. "Fine," she says and gets up.

"Wait," he stops her. "I need an ashtray. Give me that Lezbo Warren mug."

Nicole looks at her "Billionaire's Tears" Elizabeth Warren campaign mug. Although she wasn't very political, she was proud of her support. She picks it up and hands it to him. She watches as he taps the cigarette on the rim, and the ash falls in. It sizzles in the old coffee at the bottom. "I read she's a kinky bitch, too, like you. She's into polygamy and shit. Now go make me coffee."

Nicole was pretty sure he meant "polyamory" and that those rumors had never been proven, but it was, in fact, one of the reasons she liked her. There was no way she was going to admit that to him, so she moved her ass and got downstairs to make coffee and breakfast.

As the coffee brews, she gets to work on simple eggs, bacon, and toast. She had no idea how he liked his eggs, so she took a bet on the sunny side up. She hears the shower running upstairs. It was an odd experience for her. Other than Vincent yesterday morning, she'd never had a man stay over in this apartment. The difference was that Vincent was sweet enough to make her breakfast.

As she finishes plating breakfast, she hears Huck clomping down her stairs. "I thought you'd bring the coffee up to me," he says."

"Oh, sorry, I thought you'd want it with breakfast," she replies, handing him the cup. She feels small standing in front of the fully dressed man while she's completely naked.

He takes the coffee, and his beard smirks. "A good woman would know not to assume and to ask for clarification on her man's needs. But you're not a good woman, are you? Just an undomesticated slut, right?"

Nicole scowled at the comment, but she knew better than to argue. "Yes, honey," she says and hangs her head.

He leans in and, to her surprise, gives her a gentle kiss. "s'okay," he says, "you're still callin' me 'honey,' and I didn't ask you to do it beyond Thursday night. It shows you can be domesticated. Plus, when asked like a good little wifey, you went straight to making breakfast. Now take your plate upstairs and get some clothes on while you eat. Nothing fancy. Something you don't mind getting dirty. And put that hair in pigtails."

Pigtails? She hadn't worn her hair in pigtails in years. "Where are we going?"

"Shhh," he hushes her just like last night. "I'll handle the driving and directions. All you need to do is sit and ride. After all, riding is what you do best."

She releases a soft huff through her nostrils. He was so fucking patronizing. "Yes, honey," she hears herself say and worries it's becoming a habit. With that, she heads upstairs to get dressed and eat.