Under My Boss's Authority (Under Him)

Tears trickled down my cheeks, dropping off my chin, to land softly on my bare thighs. Tears of pure joy.

“Are you okay?” Hugo asked from what seemed like far away.

His voice was full of concern. He must have thought he’d really hurt me, even though nothing could be further from the truth.

“I-I’m fine. Wonderful. I-it feels - wonderful. Just kind of overwhelming, but in the best possible way,” I laughed a little, embarrassed.

Hugo exhaled into the mattress. Pure relief reading on his gentle face.

My hands were still on his shoulders. It had worked once. Might as well keep going.

Hugo gasped as I began to ride him. His expression flickering from relief to surprise, to utter elation. My hips worked up and down on him like I was riding a pogo-stick downhill, working us both toward explosive orgasms.

“Fuck, Vega,” he groaned, tensing underneath me, and as I spiraled over the edge, I felt a surge of heat as he bathed the inside of our latex barrier with his seed.

He pulled out slowly and laid me down on the bed, sitting on the edge as he tossed the condom in the trash. He then got to his feet and offered me his hand.

I took the offering, getting up on shaky legs, and kissed his cheek. Both of us sated, and no words needed between us, we got into the shower and scrubbed each other before going to the waiting breakfast.

Chapter Eight - Hugo

Her warmth was intoxicating. The rays of the new day made a halo around her head. Much like the candles had in my imagining. Confirmation or conscience, it was a lovely sight to see. In the Arcadian moments of the morning after, I was left to fanciful considerations. Certain that, given the choice, I would never get out of that bed. Remaining with her, safe in that moment forever

It came from nothing. A spark of an impulse, driving action, creating something visceral. My lips touching hers in a moment of mad abandon. At least so it seemed. Kissing was not specified anywhere in the contract. Nor was it specifically forbidden. More of an unspoken agreement. One so unspoken, it might as well exist at all.

Looking like an amorous sleepwalker, eyes still closed like in dedicated slumber, Vega returned my affections. Matching them in kind. She learned quick. The intensity grew with the passing of the moments. Evolving from entrant I’ve smooches, to a full on make-out session. Her tongue as deep in my mouth as I was in hers.

There it was. Stirring under the silk. The intensity of the moment manifesting in other ways. Vega slipped her hand between the folds, grasping lightly on my shaft. Stroking with a sensitive fluidity as our tongues explored each other.

Vega pulled away for a breath. The trick of breathing through her nose not there yet. She would learn soon enough. She stroked my cock faster. Licking her lips as she did so.

I turned on my back and put my robe aside. Giving her full access to my throbbing cock. Keeping a firm hold at the base, she swirled her tongue around the head in a way that made me moan.

She teased a little more. Keeping the action around the perimeter, likely as punishment for teasing her the night before. Suddenly, and wonderfully, Vega dropped her entire mouth over, giving me a good hard suck. A moan ripped from my lungs, unbidden but welcome just the same. Letting her know just how much I liked it. She kept going for a while. Sucking hard on the head.

Then, slowly but surely, she progressed distinctly downward, swallowing a bit more of my length as she went. Still a rookie, Vega stopped where it was sensible. Hovering at about a third down the entire length. Sucking hard, her eyes closed with focus.

Eventually, likely after her jaw got tired, she moved back up to the head for another go around. Teasing me a little more, she finally took pity and sucked as far as she could, as hard as she could until the predictable result. Vega swallowing down every drop of cum I gave her. Smiling as she did so.

It was difficult to choose. I could have sworn Vega had packed in the dark. No one item by itself unsightly, becoming borderline unspeakable when combined. Too many choices could be paralyzing but too few stifling. A familiar conundrum.

I was right about her underwear. Though her socks were much more colorful than I’d wagered. Loud and unusual, in bright primary colors. We agreed on the red ones. After that it was mostly academic. Jeans and a tank top would just have to do. I added two of the five random leather bracelets as a final touch. They didn’t quite match but that was part of the theme.

“Hungry?” I asked, tying her hair back in a bun.