Jan. Week 2: Monday: SRO-Leah doesn't suck SRO Robert's balls

Leah’s eyes flashed with annoyance, the only outward sign of resistance she could muster, but she didn’t break rhythm.

“I said I was in a hurry,” she fired at Roberts, the words muffled and clipped as she pulled her lips off his cock just long enough to spit the line like venom. She immediately dove back onto him, her jaw set, temple throbbing, and hands locked stiffly behind her back as if she’d rather glue them to the floor than actually touch him with purpose. Roberts grunted, rolling his eyes at her lack of enthusiasm, but said nothing further at first.

Leah worked as fast as she could, her tongue a blur, cheeks hollowing with each forceful bob. She concentrated on the tip, flicking and swirling, then plunging down the shaft with resolute, angry efficiency. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to do a good job—it was that she didn’t want to give this smug asshole any more satisfaction than was absolutely necessary. But the man was relentless; when she looked up at him, hoping maybe he’d be lost in his own pleasure and let her finish in peace, she caught his eyes burning down at her with a calculated coldness—a cop’s eyes, dissecting everything for evidence of weakness.

“You know, you could at least *pretend* to enjoy it,” he sneered, punctuating the humiliation with a sharp thrust of his hips that nearly made her gag.

“Go't damn, you're sucking cock like a corpse today Leah.” he continued, voice rising with each passing second. “I’d get more action at a morgue. Still, probably better than whatever Howard is getting from his fat cow wife.” He reached down and gripped her by the hair, not painfully, but with enough **** to remind her who was really in charge. Leah tried not to flinch as he used her mouth like a toy, thrusting lazily but insistently, making it clear he had no intention of letting her off easy.

Roberts’ moan filled the air—deep and guttural—a testament to his enjoyment of her unwilling service. Each sound he made echoed disturbingly in Leah's ears, adding weight to the already oppressive atmosphere. He bucked his hips with a neediness that almost made Leah laugh. The man was so predictable—so **** for power, for control, for the feeling that he was getting away with something. It was almost pathetic.

Fortunately, she could sense from Roberts’ escalating gasps and the way his grip tightened in her hair that he was nearing climax; this ordeal would soon reach its unwelcome conclusion.