You ask him to take you to the bedroom (Submission)

He came for a quick repair, he's been here for a week now. You pretend your "boyfriend" is on a trip, that you don't know when he'll come back from his mission. Maybe he doesn't realise that you're lying, maybe he doesn't care. He's just settled in and enjoying himself. And you. Quite a lot.

The first night was like a hurricane. He came at you, he came in you, once, twice, three times, seven, eight times. You barely even slept at all, moaning of pleasure, of desire, of tiredness, of exhaustion and moaning because he wanted you to. He is relentless, and unforgiving. Thinking that he was fucking you in your man's bed was an aphrodisiac to him. His already hard cock was even harder, his assaults even more excited. He wore you off on this first night. And you were still here, awake, at his bed's side, with his breakfast on a tray and ready for another round, as soon as he woke up. He ate your expensive bread and drank your fancy coffee sitting on your bed's side, with your lips wrapped around his cock. You ate cum for breakfast. You've been eating cum for breakfast for a week now, actually.

As it turns out he enjoys living as a guest in a rich man's house. He settled in very quickly, and your submissiveness helped him a lot. You enjoy seeing him behaving like everything here is his, spending the cash you willingly give him (you're rich anyway, who cares) for his own whims. And he is whimsical. Regarding you in particular.

Your day begins according to the routine you set by yourself. You wake up before him, fix his breakfast, and serve it to him. He eats like four, sitting on the bed, facing the sun rising on the garden while you kneel before him and give him the first blowjob of his day. After you've swallowed all of his cum, a bit of cleaning and showering, you do your workout in the garden while he does his in the gym. He doesn't mind the neighbor watching you. He demanded to be massaged after sports, "the sexy way". You oil your body and then his, and work on the knots of his muscle. He likes to be very relaxed when he bends you over the massage table. You usually finish the late morning with one or two loads of cum in yourself (he probably had genetic modifications, you can tell by the quantities). You have lunch, which is often followed by a kinky catnap or shopping. He likes you in shorty shorts, masculine clothes, but hugging and slutty. No skirts and dresses for him. He likes to know that he is a man and that you are one too. Once or twice, when the vendors were away, he slipped into the airtight fitting room, pushed you on your knees, and made you give him head. You quickly learnt not to resist, even if you wanted, which is not the case: his strength largely overcomes yours, and putting you on your knees demands little more than half a push from his arm. You thought, as you were kneeling in that fitting room, trying to overcome your gag reflex, of how sexy his immatue way of wanting you was. It just comes, like that, suddenly, and has to be fullfilled. He is not brutal, just affirmative. You had to buy the semen-stained t-shirt after he came on it. The late afternoon is quieter, usually you have walks, or watch TV, or you cook for him. Of course any of these activities can be a pretext for sex. He is hard to fully satisfy, as you found out. And then dinner, and a lot of sex, and sleep.

Lately he's been more keen on going further. Banging the rich boy, making him serve at the table, blow him, and eat after him, has been a bit less kinky. He's thinking, behind his muscle, planning ahead. He's put you in a leather collar with your name on it, this morning. Just for a try, he said as you choked on his shaft. Said he might want to settle down a bit more. And that he'll need a pet.