He rolls me to my back and pinches one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging until I gasp. “You’d better be. My word is law around here, and you’d better follow, or there will be consequences. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now go get my breakfast, just the way you are.” He winks, and everything inside me turns gooey and warm.
“How about a T-shirt?”
He lightly slaps my breast, making me gasp in surprise.
“All right, all right,” I pout, so turned on I’m ready for round two. If only I’d known about this side of myself earlier.
It’s literally like the “on” button for me with sex. Everything without dominance–all my past experiences with other men–seem meh in comparison.
Joey lets me up, and I trot back to the kitchen and re-warm the pancakes, slathering them with butter and heated maple syrup. “Chocolate chip pancakes.” I slide them in front of where he sits at the table.
“Mmm. Wait—” He reaches out and molds his hand to one of my butt cheeks, caressing it. “Did I say you could walk away? What if I need something?”
A trickle of moisture dribbles down my leg. “I was going to make you coffee,” I say in a shaky voice.
He massages and squeezes my ass. “Did I ask for coffee?”
“No, sir,” I’m absolutely light-headed with arousal.
“You may get me coffee,” he announces loftily. “And bring a wooden spoon, while you’re at it.”
My belly tightens with anxiety, even as my heart races with excitement. I brew him a latte and serve it along with the wooden spoon, this time standing beside him, waiting to be dismissed. He ignores me for a few moments, eating his pancakes then scoots his chair back. “I’d like that bare ass over my lap now. “
I suck in my breath and obey, grasping the rungs of his chair, my hair falling down around my head like a curtain. Nothing happens for a long time, and I realize he’s sipping his coffee, making me wait in the humbling position. I imagine his view where he sits at the table, my bare ass presented to him. Oh sweet Jesus. The heat between my legs makes me squeeze my thighs together to alleviate it.
The spoon pops down on one buttock, and I jump, squeezing my cheeks together, as if that might somehow protect them.
The spanks stop, and his hand trails slow circles around my ass. “I could definitely get used to this,” he says softly.
“What?”
“Spanking you for breakfast.”
Joey
I lift Sophie to stand and pull her on my lap. Her nipples jut out in sharp points, her cheeks flushed with color and her body trembling. I lean forward and take a bite of pancake, as if I always eat breakfast with a naked, turned-on woman sitting in my lap, dampening my pants with her desire. I chew slowly, then reach for another bite. Only then do I acknowledge Sophie, offering her the forkful of fluffy goodness. She eats hungrily, rocking her pelvis on my thigh as if being fed winds her up even further.
My dick is harder than stone, making it torturously difficult to get through feeding her without breaking my bossman character and going to town on the breast begging to be pleasured by my tongue. It’s all over, though, when a drip of syrup lands on her sternum. I spin her to face me and lick a line from one nipple to the other, nipping at the endpoint with my teeth.
She gasps and arches into me. I pull out my wallet to search for another condom, groaning when I find it empty. “Do you have any condoms, Soph?” I murmur against the smooth skin of her neck.
She sags. “No, I’m sorry.”
One part of me is glad she doesn’t keep condoms, as if it’s proof I’m the only guy she does this sort of thing with, the other part curses silently.
She backs off my legs and lowers to her knees, holding my gaze.
Oh, God. Hell, yeah. She gives the best blowjobs in the country.
She unbuttons my pants and frees my length, teasing me with a few soft kisses before swirling her tongue around the head. My phone buzzes, and I yank it out of my pocket to turn it off, then change my mind. The objectification angle seems to be working pretty well.
“Hey, Al,” I answer.
Sophie pulls off my cock, irritation plain.