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Good Pet

Page 116

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Vanacore unzips the front of her slacks, and slips them down her hips, quickly followed by her panties. “Me,” she says, cockily. “If you’re hungry little mouth can take it.” As she speaks, she pushes her pussy at me. It’s one of the grossest things I’ve ever seen. While I am probably twice as big as she is, her whole stance and energy makes her frightening and intimidating.

I swallow thickly, trying to play this off as the interested man she thinks I am. “I won’t learn how to eat it if I don’t start practicing,” I say, walking to her and getting down on my knees. As I do, I’m right at eye-and-mouth level with her pussy. Which is already fully wet and red. It’s even dripping a little from excitement.

“That’s right, my boy,” says Vanacore putting a hand on the back of my head. While she’s done her best to make the gesture soft, the energy behind it is anything but. It’s pure domination masquerading as a gentle thing. Much like Vanacore as a person. A monster, masquerading as a southern woman. “Think of this as practice. Training to be a good assistant.” Saying this, she slowly pushes my mouth toward her. My lips touch her lower lips, getting slimed on by her tip. Something I’m grossed out by, but I have to keep from showing on my face or body language. “Stick out your tongue,” she says. “I’ll do my best not to smother you.” There’s an evil humor in her voice as I open my mouth and fight every instinct I have that tells me to close it and run and lean in to lick her clit. “But I’ve got quite a monster, so I can’t make any promises.”

As I start to lick back and forth on Vanacore’s big, sour-tasting pussy, I flee in my head to memories of Melissa. Of what our time was like together this weekend. What and why I’m doing all of this for. So I can have a future with you that doesn’t involve Vanacore making everyone’s lives a living hell, I think as Vanacore grabs my hair, and starts rubbing me back and forth on her, barking praise at me. She says what a good boy I am, what a silky, slippery tongue I have. How she’s going to make sure to pay me really well for this good work. How it’s going to turn into lots of good, billable hours for me.

Over this, I have but one thought. I’m not doing this for you, but for me. For every young man who’s ever been in this position, and never had the ability or strength to fight back. I increase my tongue flicks on her, imagining I’m tightening the noose on her legal career. Enjoy this while you can, fucker. It’s not going to last for long. This is going to be your downfall. Something that’s been a long, long time in coming.

Under my tongue, I feel Vanacore pulsing. She’s about ready to come. Or will be, in mere moments. She grunts, filling my mouth with sour-tasting pussy juice. I sit away from Vanacore’s pussy, gasping and choking. Not only was her pussy a mouthful, but she unloaded (and practically forced me to swallow) three giant squirts. Which is why I’m feeling dizzy and sweaty and doing everything I can to get away from her before she decides she needs to put me through any more work this morning.

I get to my feet, feeling like throwing up. However easy I thought this was going to be, or however strong I thought I was going to be able to be after something like this, I’m not. I’m feeling anything but strong or brave.

“Sorry. Got out of control of myself there for a moment, Tommy,” she says. “I just get like that when I get hungry. When I wait for so long to have what I want, but it was worth the wait, my boy. Let me tell you.” She soothes back her white hair and pulls up her pants. When she’s put it away nicely and securely, she adds, “Don’t want you running to HR with any of this, now. Any claims that I’m being unfair for doing something rough or unwanted.”

I curse in my head. Somehow, it’s as if she knows I’m recording her. Or her trying to do just that to her. But I can’t let on. I can’t show anything like that on my face.

I shake my head, clumsily making my way toward the door. “I won’t,” I whisper, opening the door to escape out into the hallway.

“Good,” says Vanacore, as I hear her settling into her big, swiveling office chair. “I knew you were my good boy that way.”

I don’t answer her. I just run for the nearest bathroom, hoping I got something worthwhile on my phone from the encounter. And that I can throw all of this up and pretend like it didn’t ever happen.


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