Hard For My Boss

He bites his lip, thinking, then meets my eyes again. “So … we really just came back here and … we just fell right asleep?”

“Yep. Right after I tied you to the wooden X in the top secret basement of the cabana, gave you twenty lashes, then let you off so we could snort two lines of coke together, then—”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Trevor cuts me off with a roll of his own eyes, laughing. “I just … I’m surprised we didn’t do anything. Like, I would have maybe wanted to.” He presses his lips together into a cute, shy smirk. “And you were a perfect gentleman, huh?”

I glance down at his morning wood, which he either hasn’t noticed or is totally ignoring. It’s making a dramatic tent in the sheet he pulled over his waist to protect his “modesty”. When Trevor’s eyes follow my own and find his involuntary erection greeting him, he shifts to cover it.

Until my grip on his thigh keeps him in place. So much for being a perfect gentleman. “You think you can let that beautiful cock poke anywhere it wants and not suffer a consequence?” I tsk-tsk-tsk him. Then I get on all fours, and his face hardens. “Time I give the birthday boy his first present.”

“My birthday isn’t until—”

I slip under the covers as fast as a snake, cutting off his words. His morning wood is especially hard, likely because he needs to pee pretty bad. That’s going to make this morning blowjob all the more tormenting for him, which I take private pleasure in as I bring a hand softly to the base of his taut balls and feel Trevor jump with surprise at the touch of my cool fingertips.

His cock stares me in the eye, beautiful and swollen to its max. When I wrap my tight lips around its tip, uncaring of the mix of pleasure and anguish I’m about to force Trevor to endure, I feel his legs tighten under me and hear him moan deep.

I ride his cock with my lips—up and down and up again—over and over until he’s already squirming beneath me, likely ready and desperate to spill.

This time, I want him to spill, and I won’t let my hand collect the load; it’s already collected twice from him.

Now, it’s my turn.

“B-Ben …” he moans from the world beyond the bed sheets in which I’m buried, sucking him hard and relentlessly.

I need no warning. I know how close he is. Desperate to pee, desperate to come, desperate for some kind of relief from the twist of my mouth, the toying of my tongue, the pressure of my suction, and the hypersensitivity I’m making him tolerate for so long.

He’s such a champ. And he’s so strong.

And he wants more of it.

“I’m g-g-going to come,” he warns me, his breath jagged, his voice quaking and urgent.

And then he does.

I swallow it all. Every burst. Every shot. Every drop. I swallow the sweet lusciousness like it’s my birthday, drawing my mouth up and down his cock, but slowly now.

His body still quivers underneath me, the experience made even more sensitive by my continual sucking of his cock even after he’s come all he can.

Finally, I lift my head from his cock, slowly kiss my way up his smooth, supple body, then bring my mouth upon his pink, panting one. I swallow his panting and his awe as I kiss him, letting him taste himself on my lips.

I pull away and get a good look at Trevor, who is all but spent and he’s barely been awake for five minutes. His eyes are full of dreams when he opens them at last to look upon me.

I grin suddenly, proud of myself. “You were saying?”

He chuckles. “What?”

“Your birthday isn’t until …? Tomorrow? Sunday? That may be,” I murmur to him, “but this whole weekend, I plan to give you pleasure from one end of it to the other. And if you’ve studied my career as much as you say you have,” I add, “then you know that I don’t give up until the job is done, and it’s done to perfection.”

He giggles underneath me, then throws his arms around me and wrestles me back down into the sheets. “My turn,” he growls as he starts reaching for my cock.

“Nope.” I pull his hand away. “This is all about your pleasure.”

“But I haven’t reciprocated anything yet,” he says with a pout.

“Oh, you will,” I promise with a devilish smirk, then kiss him, tasting him all over again, a taste I’ll never get used to, a taste I’ll never get enough of.

36

Trevor is one pampered boy.

My life is so hard.

Like, ugh, it sucks so much to be me.

Observe the warm stones resting on my back like hot palms, and the skillful thumbs making putty out of my feet. Observe the relaxing music an hour later when I’m kicking back in a spa bath of warm spring water. Observe the kind lady gently massaging my temples with warm oils, and the pleasant tingling her work casts down the rest of my limp, noodly body.