His To Command
- 2 months ago
- 13 min read
- 1,815 Aufrufe
Brandon was gazing into space, his eyes unfocused, the hint of a smile on his lips. I moved closer and whispered “are you all right?”
“Yes dear, I'm fine,” he replied, “just taking a little break.”
“You looked like you were miles away,” I said.
“You're right, twelve miles, to be exact.”
“And exactly where were you then?”
“Back home, in our bedroom, with you kneeling in front of me, sucking my cock.”
My eyes widened in shock. I was pretty sure no-one could hear, but there were people all around. “What?” I whispered.
“You said if I came to this dinner with you, that you would do whatever I wanted next time. Next time is going to be when we get home, and you are going to do whatever I want.”
It only took a second to decide. “OK,” I whispered.
We were at an industry dinner. I was CEO of a small packaging company, and this was the annual dinner and awards. If that doesn’t sound very exciting, it’s because it wasn’t very exciting. I didn’t come to many of these things, and even fewer did I ask Brandon to come. But this time I was getting an award, small company CEO of the year, so it would have been rude not to attend.
I knew these things bored him, but he did it with good grace, being friendly and charming to everyone. I had noticed a few of the wives looking at him appreciatively, and no wonder. A big, tall man with a thick, black beard looked slightly out of place in a tuxedo, but there was no denying his attractiveness. I allowed myself a moment of smug satisfaction, look all you want, ladies, but I’m the one who’s going to take him home and fuck him.
The evening dragged on. I doubt that my speech was any less boring than the others, but at least I made mine short. I maintained the facade of polite conversation, but my mind kept jumping to what would happen later. I had one more chance to catch Brandon alone. “What’s happening now?” I whispered.
He turned those ice blue eyes on me and replied in a low, but commanding, voice, “You’re bent over the bed, and I’m behind you fucking you hard.” My knees went weak and I could feel my pussy getting wet. That lasted a delicious few seconds before a voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Enjoying the night?” A perfectly acceptable beginning to a social conversation.
“Oh, yes, it’s lovely.” A perfectly acceptable reply. It wasn’t true, of course, but “No, I’m bored silly and I can’t wait to get home so my husband can fuck my brains out,” would have been something of a faux pas.
At last it finished and we could go. Walking to the car, Brandon said “we start now.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Good. You drive.” I took the keys and got in the driver’s seat. He sat beside me. “No talking. I want to concentrate on looking at your body and thinking about what I’m going to do to you.”
I drove carefully. This was not the time to have an accident. Every time I glanced sideways, Brandon was staring at me, sometimes at my face but more often at my breasts. The anticipation was building.
When we stopped at a set of lights Brandon instructed “lift your dress up.” I reached down to gather the skirts and lift them up over my knees. The long dress bunched up at my thighs.
“Higher,” he said. I lifted further, and he looked keenly at my panties. I was sure there must be a damp mark on them from my pussy being so wet. The lights changed and I had to let go to drive the car. “Each stop,” he said. So at each set of lights, I had to quickly stop the car, and then lift up my dress to show him my knickers.
We had tried the obedience idea a few times before, and I had discovered that I loved it. I spent all day being the boss. My staff were good, but they did tend to want me to make all the decisions. That was fine, it was my company and I was responsible, but it was tiring. So it was a lovely contrast to have the opposite, no thinking, no calculating, no responsibility, just do exactly as I was ordered.
And, of course, I knew what sort of orders I would get. At work, I was a woman in a largely male world. I made it clear to everyone that sexism would not be tolerated. Women were to be valued for their skills, not their bodies. But in the right setting, it was hugely arousing to know that there was one man who didn’t care about my authority, my knowledge, my ambition, he just saw me as a hot woman and wanted to fuck me.
When we got home I followed Brandon into the lounge and waited for instructions. He looked me up and down. I was wearing a long evening gown, dark green, low cut. I didn’t have enormous breasts, but big enough to show a bit of cleavage when I wanted to. And that’s where Brandon’s eyes settled.
Then he spoke. “I expect it’s a fantasy that many men have. You see a woman dressed up, classy, elegant, sophisticated. She’s showing off her cleavage, taunting you. And you wish you could just go up to her and fondle her breasts. And now I can.”
He cupped his hands over my breasts. He had a leisurely fondle, feeling for my nipples through the gown and the strapless bra. I stood obediently waiting. After a good feel he said “And in the fantasy, this elegant woman responds by kneeling down, getting your cock out, and giving you a blow job.”
That was a clear hint if ever I heard one. I knelt in front of him. I undid his belt, then the button and zip on his trousers. The bulge in his briefs was impressive, even though he was only half hard. Carefully pulling them down, I exposed his lovely penis. After admiring it for a few seconds, I leaned forwards and took him in my mouth.
He rapidly hardened as I sucked, and soon I had a fully erect penis in my mouth. I could only get about half of it in, so I held the other half with one hand and tickled his balls with the other. “Look up,” he said. I looked up, gazing adoringly into his eyes while I sucked his cock.
I kept sucking him. That was my job until instructed otherwise. Eventually he said “All right, stand up.” I stood up. He took off his clothes, dropping them carelessly on the chair. “Put those away,” he said. I took the clothes upstairs to the bedroom, putting them away neatly in the closet or the washing basket. I returned downstairs to find Brandon sitting in the armchair, nicely relaxed, apart from the spectacular erection of course. I stood in front of him, waiting obediently.
“Lift up your dress,” he instructed. I slowly began gathering up the long skirt. His eyes followed the hem as more and more of my legs were revealed. I was getting turned on by the feeling of breaking a taboo. As girls, we were taught so much about never letting anyone see up our skirts, never showing off our knickers. And here I was lifting my dress so that a man could inspect me.
As the dress rose above my waist, Brandon stared at the thin fabric stretched over my mound. “Turn around and bend over,” he said. I was wearing a thong, so it wouldn’t show through the dress. He fondled my almost bare ass, stroking my buttocks and running a finger into my crack.
When he let go he said “Go behind me and take off your panties.” I did as he said. “Come back and walk around.” I came back and walked, the high heels accentuating the sway of my hips. It was only one tiny piece of fabric, but boy did it make a difference. I was not used to being without panties, and the unfamiliar feeling of air around my pussy kept me constantly aware of it.
“What a turn-on,” said Brandon. “From the outside you look like a beautiful, classy lady, demure and serene, but I know that under that elegant gown there’s a wet, naked cunt, just waiting for my attention.” He looked into my eyes. “And I can have it any time I want.”
It wasn’t just him that was getting turned on. His words forced another surge of moisture to my pussy. I wished he would stop drawing it out and just fuck me, but I stayed quiet and demure, on the outside, anyway. “Lift your dress again.”
This was even more taboo! I lifted the dress, knowing that this time I would be exposing my most intimate part. And in a second, there I was, still dressed in my beautiful gown, holding up the front to display my shaved pussy.
Brandon nuzzled one finger between my lips, and slipped it easily into my vagina. He slid it in and out for a while before withdrawing to rub the juice on my clit. I couldn’t help shivering and he grinned. He was stroking his cock with one hand while feeling me up with the other. “This is rather good,” he said. “I can finger your pussy for as long as I want, and you just have to stand there and take it.”
“Yes,” I said, “and you know how much I hate it when you finger my pussy.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you understand the situation here. This is for my pleasure, you’re not supposed to enjoy it.”
“No, of course not, I’m absolutely not enjoying it at all.”
I don’t think he believed me. The heavy breathing and soaking snatch were a bit of a giveaway.
“Right,” he said, “time to be more direct.” He stood up and said, “bend over and put your hands on the arm of the couch.” I did as instructed. He lifted my skirt and piled it over my back. “That fantasy I was telling you about, it continues with the elegant lady bending over. You lift her skirt and find that she has no panties on, and there’s a glistening pussy just waiting to be fucked.”
He fondled my ass. I felt his head probing between my lips until it was poised at my entrance. “And fuck it you do,” he announced, and with one push he shoved his whole cock up my cunt.
I thought back to the stuffy dinner. All those people, making polite conversation, admiring my success as a businesswoman. What would they say if they could see me now, bent over the couch, dress up around my waist, a big cock fucking my eager pussy?
Brandon settled into an unhurried rhythm. “I like this image,” he said casually, “the top half still clothed and elegant and refined, and the bottom half naked and sexy and full of cock.” It was pretty nice for me too. If he kept this up much longer I was going to come.
But he didn’t. He withdrew and told me to stand up. “Take off the dress,” he ordered. I draped it carefully over a chair and stood there in nothing but my strapless bra. I couldn’t help looking at his dick, standing out so hard and proud, slick from my own juice. “Now,” he said, “I have the perfect thing to say to a classy lady.” He broke into a huge grin and growled, “Show us yer tits!”
I undid the bra and tossed it aside. He came in to fondle my breasts, zooming in on my already hard nipples. I gasped as he bent to lick and suck on them. “It’s good of you to have such lovely breasts,” he said, “just remember they’re mine, there for my pleasure, to fondle whenever I want.”
He caressed a bit longer and then stepped back. “We need to go bed now. You go first, so I can look at your ass and pussy as you go up the stairs.” I dutifully climbed the stairs, getting more turned on by the thought of him watching me.
He lay on his back on the bed. “No point in me doing all the work,” he said, “come here and plonk that pretty pussy on my pole.” He fancied himself as a wordsmith sometimes, my Brandon.
I got on the bed and straddled him, stroking his lovely cock. I poised myself over him and then slowly sank down, savoring the feeling as the stiff rod opened me up. I settled myself and looked at him steadily. “Well?” he said.
“You just said plonk my pussy on your pole,” I replied, “I’m waiting for further instructions.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get smart,” he growled. “You know perfectly well what I want you to do. Now get on with fucking me.”
“Your wish is my command.” And I started to bounce, long, slow movements, squeezing my pussy on his lovely cock. He looked up at my wobbling breasts, then reached up to grab a handful. I kept rocking as he rubbed my nipples. My breathing was getting heavier as my arousal grew.
“Rub your clit,” instructed Brandon, “I want you to come on my cock.” I didn’t hesitate. My fingers quickly found my clit, giving it the stimulation I had been wanting for so long. In a few seconds I was coming, my pussy clenching down on the hard cock lodged inside me.
I lay down on top of him, overwhelmed by the force of my orgasm. Brandon gently rubbed my back. “You can be obedient when you want to be,” he murmured.
I chuckled. “I can indeed.”
“But the deal isn’t finished yet,” he said, “you are still mine to command.”
“I am,” I agreed.
“So, time for you to do your wifely duty.” He rolled us over so that he lay on top of me. “Now, remember, at work you may be this hot-shot executive that everyone looks up to, but at home you’re just a hot woman who needs to be thoroughly fucked. Got it?”
“Got it,” I agreed.
“Good.” And he duly set about the thorough fucking.
There was something about this position that really turned me on. The feeling of being overwhelmed by his force, the big body trapping me underneath him, his hips holding my legs apart, his hard cock pounding my pussy. Yet at the back of my mind was the surety that he was a good man, that he would never hurt me, that he would stop immediately if gave any sign that I was serious, and not just playing the game. Putting all that together, I could relish the rush of being overpowered and swept away, while still feeling perfectly safe.
The rapid thrusting was taking effect. I hadn’t expected it, but if he didn’t stop, soon I was going to come again. He didn’t stop. Instead, he went harder and faster. We tipped over the edge at the same time. I could feel his penis erupting inside me, pumping cum into my eager pussy, prolonging and intensifying my orgasm.
We lay still, while our hearts stopped pounding and our breathing recovered. I loved the feeling of being enveloped by his weight, his chest squashing my breasts, his cock gradually softening inside me. He lifted his head and kissed my gently on the lips. “I like it that you let me command you,” he whispered.
“I like it that you let me submit to you,” I whispered back.