Worship your cock with eagerness

The young secretary that you been cheating with worships your cock like it's a religious artifact. She starts with her hands, her long, painted nails scraping gently against the sensitive skin of your thighs, her movements slow and deliberate. She's not rushing; she's savoring. Her tongue is next, a wet, warm stripe from base to tip, her eyes never leaving yours. She's performing, but it's for an audience of one, and you are the entire world.

She takes the head of your cock into her mouth, a soft, wet suction that makes your breath catch in your throat. One of her hands cups your balls, her touch practiced and perfect. This is her skill, her art. She knows exactly how much pressure, exactly when to use her teeth, exactly when to take you deep, her nose pressing into your stomach.

You look down at her. Her dark hair is a curtain around your lap, her cheeks are hollowed, her lips are stretched, slick and red. The image is pornographic, debased, and so incredibly potent. This is the chaos you crave, the messy, visceral proof that you are more than just a husband, a father, a walking wallet. You are this. A man with a beautiful young woman on her knees, a man who can take.

"Look at you," you groan, the words torn from you. "My beautiful slut."

She moans around you, the vibration sending a jolt straight up your spine. She likes that. Loves it. The degradation is her fuel. She picks up the pace, her head bobbing, her hand working in a frantic rhythm. She wants it. She wants you to lose control, to use her, to paint your release all over her. And you want to give it to her. You feel the familiar tightening in your groin, a coil of white-hot pleasure ready to snap.

Her tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the slit. You held yourself back from cumming hard in the young slut mouth.

She ask all innocent after popping your cock free from her mouth. "How can I earn a little one dollar raised boss?"

She was playing that dumb secretary game. That little innocent slut game. She wants money. All these young whores want is a little change in their pockets and a load of cum in their belly. You think of Kyler. You think of Ava and Elsa. The real women in your life. You love them but this here is real. The naughty woman beneath you who is still teasing.

You know Emily love you in a different way than Ava. But the secretary had to make a living. Here she is, in this stark, soulless apartment, on her knees for you. She doesn't want a family, a mortgage, a history. She wants this transaction. A little money, a little pleasure. It's clean. It's simple. It's the life you almost wished for in the dark.

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