"Mr. Jackson...."

You trying to keep your voice calm. But your words fall on deaf ears as he continues to watch the movie, his hand now gripping your shoulder with so much energy as you stroke him. The sound of his breathing fills the room, each exhale a little more ragged than the last.

You pump him faster trying to get his BBC off, hoping he doesn't want more than a handjob. The room feels hot and sticky, like you're in a sauna. The only sound is the movie playing and Mr. Jackson's increasingly heavy breaths. You're so focused on his reaction that you don't realize how fast your own heart is racing.

He grabs your other hand, guiding it to his shaft as well. "Both hands Natasha," he says, his voice strained. You obey, feeling his cock swell even more under your touch. Your mind is racing, trying to think of an escape plan, but all you can do is follow his lead, slightly wanting to keep pleasing this hung cock. You're aware of every movement, every touch, and it's making you feel more and more twisted inside.

You keep your eyes on the TV, watching as Scarlett Johansson's character, Natasha Romanoff, fights her way through the scene, hoping that somehow, some way, you can channel her strength. Mr. Jackson's breathing gets heavier, his eyes still glued to the screen, his hand now stroking your hair as if you're a pet he's proud of. You feel his body tense up, and you know he's close.

"You know where I want to cum Natasha."

Mr. Jackson's voice is a low rumble, his eyes still on the screen. You look up at him, his gaze intense and expectant. You know what he wants.

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