Jan. Week 3: A Long Weekend-Movies--Mr. Howard makes a mess...(Suspicion: +20)

Leah worked Mr. Howard’s cock with mechanical precision, moving her head up and down the veined shaft, tongue swirling as if she could scrub away the shame with every stroke. The air was thick with the tang of urinal cakes and something raw, animal, and uniquely male. The principal watched her intently, a hand braced against the cinderblock wall for leverage, the other resting heavy on the back of her head, guiding her with the authority of a man who’d spent his whole career giving orders and never being told no. She felt the pressure of his grip tighten each time her lips reached the base, the tip of his cock prodding insistently at the back of her throat.

Mr. Howard leaned into his role as villain, spiking the air with a steady stream of degradation.

“You ever see The Fast and the Furious, Miss Williams?” he asked between groans. “Because you’re shifting my stick into high gear right now. Jesus—” He let out a shaky sigh. “This is better than any popcorn flick.” A bead of sweat trickled down his temple and into the collar of his shirt, his face already tinged red with the thrill of it all.

She focused on the rhythm, on not gagging, on not letting the tears form at the corners of her eyes. Every time she bobbed her head, she caught sight of her own reflection in the polished chrome of the stall lock: wild hair, eyes lost, cheeks flushed and lips stretched obscenely wide. She looked like a woman in a very specific kind of porn—the ones she used to laugh about with friends in college, back when this kind of scenario seemed like a joke designed by and for men with no imagination. Much like the kind she had done to get into this mess.

And now here she was, living it—again. Howard’s voice dropped to a hoarse, **** whisper.

“That’s it. Oh, fuck. You’re a natural, Miss Williams.” He grinned down at her, his teeth bared, then added: “Knew you’d have a gift for oral tradition.” The bastard even winked. She wanted to bite down just to see him squirm, but that would only give him more leverage, more ammunition for the next **** session. Leah suppressed the urge and sped up instead, hollowing her cheeks and matching his escalating rhythm, determined to finish him off quickly so she could return to Daniel—and, eventually, to Jonathan, who probably suspected nothing.

“You ever watch a really suspenseful thriller?” Howard wheezed, his hand trembling on her scalp. “I always like the part where the hero takes a risk and gets away with it.” He tightened his grip again, thrusting his cock sharply into her mouth, and Leah’s eyes snapped shut against the sudden intrusion. The tip jabbed the back of her throat, making her ****, but she recovered quickly, swallowing around him with a resigned determination.

He was close now—she could tell by the way his thigh muscles tensed and his voice lost all pretense of composure.

“Open wide. About to be…ugh UGH the final credits.” He yanked her off his cock at the last second, taking his shaft in hand and stroking furiously, **** and unhinged. “Look at me. Jesus fuck, look at me, shit….shit….” Leah obeyed, her face inches from the angry head of his cock as it pulsed in his palm.

The first jet of cum shot across the gap and landed squarely in her hair, sticky and warm. The second rope caught her on the cheek, dripping downward toward the corner of her mouth. Howard groaned, shuddering, as a third and fourth volley splattered across her nose and chin, one strand arcing high enough to catch her on the eyelid. Leah flinched at the sensation, but kept her face up, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch away.

He kept stroking, slower now, as the last pulses of semen dribbled from his cock and pooled on her lips, then oozed down her neck and the collar of her blouse.

“Goddamn. That’s a money shot worthy of an Oscar,” he panted, still catching his breath.

Leah stared up at him, face painted with sticky humiliation, breathing through her nose as she tried not to gag at the load congealing on her tongue and chin. The taste was even worse when it was outside her mouth, but she swallowed down the bitterness with a practiced, mechanical motion and wiped her lips with the back of her trembling hand. Howard watched her, a sick grin painted across his face, basking in the aftermath.

“REALLY!? I am a fucking mess. REALLY?” Leah shook her head in anger, fearful to even look at herself in the mirror.

“Well…I guess I just couldn’t help myself.” He pulled his pants up slowly. “Look, you are in a bathroom—you can clean up before getting back to Jonathan.” Luckily, he didn’t know that it was Daniel she was making wait…he might have raged or used that as further fuel for his ****.