Serving Christopher

Christopher’s car glides into the parking garage at his building. They take the elevator up together. Emma can feel the electricity in the air between her smooth skin barely covered by his shirt and Christopher’s muscular arms. He shows her around his penthouse until they end up by his giant clawfoot bathtub. He then turns his intense gaze to her. “Emma, you’ve had a tough day. I respect that, so I will give you two options. The first option is that you will keep my shirt on your body until I leave the master bathroom, you will take a relaxing bath, and we’ll save the date for another day. Is that what you want?”

Emma bites her lip and shakes her head. She can’t help but imagine tasting Christopher’s cock again. She needs it bad.

Christopher nods and smiles enigmatically. “In that case, the second option is that you will stop denying me the sight of your beautiful body right this second, strip naked, and I will park my cock down your tight throat until I find your brain’s reset button. Do you understand?”

Emma reaches under the borrowed shirt and hooks her fingers in the waistband of her tiny panties. She slips them down her long legs and steps out a foot a time. She then slowly unbuttons the shirt Christopher chivalrously lent her and playfully tosses it at his face. Being nude makes her feel happy again. She tiptoes into the tub.

Christopher strips efficiently and follows her into the tub. He pushes Emma to her knees in the rapidly rising water. He slaps her tits while she rubs her face on his cock. He smells confident, strong, just right. She needs it real bad. “Please, Christopher, fuck my face.”

Emma keeps rubbing her eyes, nose, cheeks, lips on his cock. He grabs and pinches her nipples. She gasps, wide eyed and ****. He pets her cheek while still pinching the other nipple. “Beg for it like a good girl. Tell me what you need.”

The degree to which Christopher is letting Emma be as small and submissive as she is realizing she craves is amplifying her desire. “Please, Christopher, fuck my face. Please use my throat. Please park your big dick all the way inside. Please let me be a drooling good girl for you. Please reboot my brain. Please, I need your cock so fucking bad.”

Christopher keeps smiling and pushes his cock inside Emma’s mouth centimetre by centimetre, inch by inch. His will is inexorable. She could not stop him if she wanted to, no more than a mermaid can stop the tide. She parts her lips, and his cock pushes apart her tongue and palate, her tonsils and uvula, the walls of her throat. She sees stars as her nose touches his abs, and then Christopher takes two handfuls of her hair and fucks her face and throat with his footlong girthy shaft.

This is what she has trained herself for. This is why she has been sucking cock. This is what she was born for. She is giving the gift of her throat for Christopher. Her throat is a perfectly tight, smooth, pleasurable sheath, fitting his dick like a glove. He uses her, filling the entirety of her being with his manmeat. She does not need anything but to exist as a pleasure hole for him. He fucks her steadily, powerfully, unstoppably. She does not need to breathe. She just needs to take his dick. The minutes accumulate in her unseeing starry eyes as he plows her throat, and then her mind resets.

When she opens her eyes, his cockhead is out of her throat and in front of her face and he explodes. Christopher paints her face with his load, thick and sticky, covering her like the first snowfall of the season. She reaches up and rubs him into her skin, into her face. She wants his essence in her pores. She licks her fingers, and she licks her lips, and she licks at the cum on her face, but still she wants his essence. She massages his cum into her tits just as she massages it into the skin of her face. Christopher is watching her. She grins like a good girl and licks the cum droplets on his cock. “Thank you, Christopher.”