Eleonora Viktorovna was sitting at her massive oak desk, not looking at me, looking through a folder with my name on it. A folder of my failures. Debts. Miscalculations that cost the company a lot of money.
—So,” her voice was as cold as steel, without a single note of warmth. — Let’s summarize the results. Your project failed. The company lost three hundred thousand. Your salary for the next year and a half will only partially cover the damage. Do you have something to say?
I was silent. What could I say? She was absolutely right. I totally screwed up. My palms were sweating, and my heart was pounding in my throat.
She leaned back in her chair, and now her gaze, heavy and appraising, fell on me. Eleanor was so damn beautiful. A femme fatale in her forties with hard brown eyes, perfectly coiffed brown hair, and a figure that all the men in the office were crazy about. Now she was not the object of desire, but my judge and executioner.
— I… I do not know, Eleonora Viktorovna. I’m ready to work seven days a week, do anything…” I muttered, hating myself for this obsequious tone.
—Anything?” She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. There was a faint smirk on her lips. — An interesting word. It’s very blurry.
She slowly got up from the table. Her high heels clicked loudly on the parquet floor as she approached me. I froze, feeling goosebumps running down my spine. She was wearing a tight-fitting black pencil skirt and a white blouse that was unbuttoned one button too much for decency. She smelled of expensive perfume, something tart and smoky.
“I’m offering you an alternative payment method,” she stopped half a step away from me, looking down at me. I was sitting, and she was standing. The dominance was absolute. “Just once.” Here and now. And we’re even. The contract will be terminated.
My brain refused to believe it. I stared at her, not understanding.
—I… don’t understand.”
—Oh, you understand perfectly well,” she gently, almost tenderly, ran her finger along my cheek. Her touch burned like ice. “I see the way you’re looking at me. I can see what’s going on in your head. All these dirty fantasies. Today is your chance to make one of them a reality. And write off your debt.
She said it so calmly, as if she were offering a cup of coffee. My breath caught in my throat. The blood rushed to his head and below his waist, creating a strange, intoxicating mixture of humiliation and excitement.
— What exactly should I do? I gasped, already knowing the answer.
Eleanor smiled. It was not a kind smile, but a predatory, domineering one.
— You have to work off your debt. With your tongue. You’re going to lick my pussy until I decide you’ve had enough. You will do it as I say. And if I’m satisfied, you’re free.
She turned around and went to her chair. But she didn’t get into it. She turned the chair around with its back to the table, and she… she sat down in it, leaning back. Then she slowly, theatrically, swung one leg over the armrest, then the other.
In front of me, under the black fabric of the skirt, there was a view of the perfect shape of the underwear. Delicate black lace, a thin stripe that sank between her legs. My heart started pounding.
“Come here.” Kneel down,” her voice brooked no argument.
I got up with trembling legs and trudged towards her. The parquet felt incredibly cold under my knees. I was right in front of her, facing her crotch. From there came the stunning, sweet and musky scent of her arousal. I felt dizzy.
—Open it,— she commanded.
My fingers trembled as I gripped her hips. The skin under her stockings was firm and hot. I hooked my fingers around the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down. She lifted her hips, helping me. Now she was completely naked in front of me. Neatly trimmed, wet with desire, her pussy seemed to be the most beautiful and most frightening thing I had ever seen in my life.
“Now… work it out,” she whispered, and for the first time there was a note of passion in her voice.
I pressed my lips to it. The first touch was electric. She tasted so warm, soft, and salty. I ran my tongue all over her slit, from top to bottom, trying to grasp the rhythm. She moaned softly, and her hand went to the back of my head, not pressing, just controlling.
—Yes… that’s it… take your time,” she guided me like an orchestra conductor.
I completely immersed myself in the process. In this humiliating and incredibly arousing act. I caressed her with long, slow movements, then focused on her bud, circling it with the tip of my tongue. Her moans grew louder. Her hips began to shake involuntarily. I could feel her clit swelling under my tongue, getting harder.
—Deeper,— she moaned.
I pushed my tongue inside her, feeling her wet, velvety walls shrink around him. I drank her, enjoying her every moan, every breath. Humiliation gradually turned into an animal passion. I wanted to make her cum. He wanted her to scream with pleasure.
And then she made a decision.
“That’s enough,— her voice sounded authoritative. The hand on the back of my head suddenly pressed down with incredible force, pressing my face against it so that I almost suffocated. “Now just lie there and don’t move.
Before I could figure it out, she shifted her position. She abruptly got up from the chair, literally loomed over me, and then… then she just sat on my face.
The weight of her body fell on top of me. The world had narrowed to darkness, wet flesh, and suffocation. Her powerful hips squeezed my head. I could only breathe through my nose, and then with difficulty, every breath was sexrasskaz.com it is filled with its concentrated, dense aroma. I instinctively grabbed her buttocks to steady myself. She was the complete mistress of the situation.
—Yeah, that’s it,” she moaned really loudly, starting to move, sliding over my face, using it as a tool. “Use your tongue, bitch!” Lick it!
I was her living, breathing toy. I moved my tongue as far as I could reach as she moved, pinching me between her thighs. My own arousal was painful, but I no longer thought about it. My whole world came down to this woman, to her pussy, to her moans.
My head was still trapped between her thighs, I was suffocating in her wet, fragrant flesh, when her voice, hoarse with pleasure, broke through the hum of blood in my ears:
—That’s enough. Now… lower.
Her hand grabbed my hair again, but this time she led my face down, away from her quivering clitoris, past the wet entrance, to where the elastic, perfectly round, anal hole began.
—Lick,” her order was short and unanswerable.
I didn’t resist. My lips and tongue, already covered with her juices, obediently slid lower. I felt a new texture under my tongue, thicker and more intimate. I ran the tip of my tongue over her very core, in a circular, confident motion.
Eleanor screamed sharply, not a moan, but rather a surprised, animal cry of pleasure. Her hips jerked, pressing against me even harder.
—Yeah, that’s right,— she breathed faster, her fingers literally digging into my skin. —Dirty boy… lick my back hole… do it!”
Her words, harsh and direct, spurred me on even more. I was completely focused on this tiny, secret place. I caressed it with an elastic, flat tongue, led it in a circle, then gently pressed the tip, making her howl from the surging sensation. I could feel her whole body tense in anticipation of supreme pleasure, and it gave me strength. I served her. I was working off a debt.
She moved faster and faster, her breathing ragged, turning into ragged, hoarse screams. I could feel her whole body tense up. Her fingers dug into my hair.
- yes! Yes! I’m coming! Her scream escaped her lips, and at that moment, her legs squeezed my head in a vice. The wave of her orgasm covered her, and I could feel her flesh throbbing convulsively on my tongue, on my chin, all over my face.
She froze for a few seconds, breathing heavily, pressing down on me with all her weight. Then, finally, she loosened her grip and stood up.
I collapsed on the carpet, gasping, my face wet with her juices. The air burned my lungs. I lay there, unable to move, staring at the ceiling through a haze of tears and pleasure.
Eleanor adjusted her skirt. Her face was calm, satisfied. She came up to me, looked down at my dirty face, and the same predatory grin touched her lips.
—Not bad,— she said, and her voice became businesslike and cold again. — I consider the debt repaid. You can go now. And get yourself cleaned up, you look disgusting.
She turned around and walked to her desk as if nothing had happened. And I, still trembling, got up from the floor, wiped my face with my sleeve and wandered to the exit, feeling the taste of her on my lips and realizing that this humiliating scene would forever remain the most depraved and most vivid memory in my life.