Focus on his nipples

You approach your boss, holding his shirt. Standing face-to-face with him, you begin dabbing his well developed chest, drying the barely dampened skin. He returned to his lecture about how I'm a problem, but that didn't bother me now. I kept staring at his chest, his pecs protruding out slightly, though age made them a little meatier. You kept dabbing the area, allowing your fingers to run along his fat, brown nipples.

"... I can't even fathom how blind you cou-"

"Sir."

"What?" He asked, looking at me.

"No, you should address me as 'sir'. We're both grown men." You tell him.

He stared, face scrunching up before he just shook his head.

"Right. But you, sir, weren't even concentrating on-"

You were yelling on the inside, amazed at how he was just accepting your words. You'd dropped his shirt and was now just patting his chest, occasionally kneading his pecs. Your boss was so wrapped up in his bitching that he hadn't even noticed. As you patted, you got more and more focused on his nipples, feeling up the nubs. Your fingers eventually found their way around them, giving a firm squeeze.

"... were just a little bit, ah, sir, what do you think you're doing!"

"Some of the coffee could have got into your nipples. I'm just squeezing them to get any coffee out, like a sponge.

Mr Beaumont's face contorted. The older man was battling a war in his head over your words.

"I- I- Fine, but make it quick."

You began twisting his nipples, playing with the hardening nubs. They stuck out of his pecs like firm bullets, enjoying the attention. You could hear Mr Beaumont's long rant drift off, as he allowed you to fondle his nips. You steadily increased the intensity of your nipple play from playful squeezes to hard grips. The rough play did not go unnoticed from Mr Beaumont.

"Ow! Cut that out sir! They're dry enough now."

"I don't think so, Dale."

You leant down and took one of his nipples in your mouth, allowing your saliva to coat the reddened nub. Flicking your tongue over the hard flesh, you bit down on the tip.

"Jesus, sir, what are you playing at?"

"Don't shout so loud, or else everyone will be in here."

You moved onto the next nipple, repeating your treatment. You stared up at your boss. The older man, who prided himself in his alpha status, looked dimmed. He was aware of a shift in power, but couldn't think of how to regain the upper hand. His eyes still held that previous anger, but there was a sense of fear inside them, knowing you were the one who was in charge at the moment.

You pulled off of his nipple, returning to twisting them, much harder than before. Your boss yelped, but didn't try stop you. You continued twisting, squeezing and pulling on his teats, testing how far you could go without ripping them clean off. The older man had his eyes clenched closed, biting his lip to stop any tears. The ultimate forfeit of power.

"Okay, Mr Beaumont, I think they're finally dry." You declared, giving his chest one last pat.

Your boss sighed in relief, slumping his shoulders. What he didn't realise is that you weren't finished. Not by a long shot.