To Worship Martina's Body

"T-To worship you…," answered Alasdair in hushed tones.

Numbness unfurled within him. He had not considered his words. He had not understood what they meant for his pride. His masculinity. As Martina lightly stroked Alasdair's package, his earlier thoughts about his virile collapse placed lower in his rationality, giving his exhibitionistic lust precedence.

No, his mental self whispered, you're doing this for your job, not your brazen manhood. To keep your bountiful pay cheque and reputation.

His job. His reputation. He must endure these mischievous games for continued success at inSite. But why, when telling himself this, he could not emulate the same conviction he held almost all his life about his masculine prowess. Even worse, deep inside did he truly care? Embracing these submissive ploys granted him newfound freedom only found during his nocturne masturbatory sessions.

Martina returned a delicate smile upon Alasdair's glance. His dislike stemmed from internalised hatred mixed with lust. No matter his crude and hateful remarks on Martina, she placed high in his fantasies. This might be the closest he could get into her graces without shame.

"Start with my legs," she stated, withdrawing her hand from Alasdair's erection.

He nodded, positioning her nimble body onto the bed. When kneeling at her side, his cock twitched upon bearing witness to her soaked panties, more so when his calloused palms bumbled over her golden-brown legs, ascending from her soft knees towards her straight waist. His lips brushed upwards her skin; inhaling her scent during his uncoordinated pecks. His rubbing, kneading and kisses warmed Martina, though her low chuckle languished his will. She propped herself on her elbows, lowering her head at Alasdair; her expression made of stone.

"This hardly counts as prayer worthy for worship," she said, breathless, sighing before turning up her backside.

Alasdair's eyes widened as he beheld her thick hips curving into her taut, round bottom and her swollen pussy in her panties. Martina meshed the heels of her shoes around Alasdair's pulsing erection once he stood, jerking him towards her upon the soles of her heels touching. He managed to balance, after her release, by clasping the mattress. His body arched over her; his chest grazing her lean back. She shook her head.

"If only your willy was longer…"

She pushed up, his trunk and head against her shoulders and neck.

“Start revering."

He grunted, grasping her garters and unhooking the rear straps to pull her skirt. Alasdair gripped each of her cheeks separated by thin fabric from her soaking bikini panties, manipulating them in his palms in advance of burying his face between them. Martina's breathing and pulse hastened as Alasdair's thick stubble tickled her. She arched upwards, allowing the man to nip and peck her glutes.

"You're failing me little Alis," she declared between gasps, "You wanted to worship me? I thought—Oh!"

Alasdair flipped her, snatching and popping the top of her bustier down to her abdomen, exposing her breasts. Martina flushed, watching him lick and suck the rock-hard nipples of her bantam tits. While moaning, her arms weaved Alasdair's shoulders, pulling him closer upon melting from his tongue play. The varied pressure around her areolas. The kneading about her flesh. The tender pecks down her neck and collar bone. Tears escaped her; her orgasm upcoming.

"Are my prayers worthy of approval?" Alasdair asked.

Martina nodded, her body trembling. He grinned, sailing his fingers down her stomach, towards her pussy lips, right at her clit. All he did was touch.

Martina spasmed, her cunt contracting against Alasdair's moist fingers. She cried aloud, her pleasure known, exciting the top dog who planted himself over her; his budding arousal rubbing her thigh. In time, they laid in silence, her cuddling him, his head on her breast; only exacerbating his internal conflict. His leaking cock surged with energy, paining him.

"Serve me little Alis," she finally spoke, short-winded, "I will allow you to cum."

Serve her? Should he…just give in? Should be forgo his dignity for his desire? Just to climax?