Author’s note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

…

The office at the intersection of Marquette & Washington was quiet after company hours. There was a quiet humming as the heating and cooling system kept the air temperature and humidity at a very comfortable level. She waited in his office, laying on her side on the carpet, which was quite plush but still a little harsh on her skin where it was bare.

She wore the tight brown wool skirt that she had worn as his assistant during the day, but without the lacy black panties down below, and only her red pushup bra up on top, a dark shadow over her alabaster skin. Her plump breasts were squeezed together as they lay on the floor, the cleavage deep and mysterious. Her leather collar was chained to a stainless steel eye-hook attached to the inside of Mr. Aragon’s expansive executives desk.

He had left her a bowl of milk for sustenance, and she felt a twang of hunger. She rolled onto her knees and inched her way forward to the saucer, her thighs rubbing together and her heavy breasts pendulous even in the tight brassiere.

When she arrived at the saucer she bent down, her dark hair tumbling around the white milk. Her hot, wet tongue slipped softly out between her full red lips and lapped at the warm milk. Lap, lap, lap, she lapped up the milk little by little and she felt like purring in contentment, so she hummed to herself as she finished the last drop of delicious white liquid.

The light was fading and she saw the office lights began to flicker on in the skyscrapers across from their building.

Late workers, like me.

She giggled and lay back down on the carpet, stretching out her legs and arms as she waited for Mr. Aragon to gift her with his presence.

There wasn’t any guarantee that he would. He only visited occasionally, when he wanted to use her. Sometimes he wanted her to tell him about the nights he set up for her. She loved those nights, and she loved the nights with him, but not the nights that he sent her home. Those were boring and sad and she missed him so much when she was at home.

My master, where are you tonight?

She must have fallen asleep because all of a sudden she heard the click of the door as someone entered. For a moment she felt so exposed, as her skirt had ridden up thighs and half way up her ample butt cheeks, her juicy pussy fresh and open to the night air.

She had been dreaming about his cock, her obsession, and she had been licking it, over an over, lapping it up with her tongue like the milk she had just finished on the floor, licking at the bulbous head as it grew bigger and bigger, and purple in color. Precum had oozed out of the slit at its tip, and she had lapped that up like the willing kitty that she was.

It was him, Mr. Aragon in a newly laundered three piece suit, a pink handkerchief folded just so and tucked into the breast pocket. His face was blank as he looked down on her, a five-o-clock shadow softening his sharp chin.

“Sleeping, are we?” She wondered she saw a grin wash across his face, and then it was blank again.

He grunted. “Shine my shoes, slut.”

She got to her knees and thrust out her ample breasts, showing off his property. “Yes, master.”

With one hand he moved his expensive looking office chair over to where she was kneeling, and sat down in it with a sigh. He pulled out his gold cigarette container from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and slipped a cigarette out of it. With his other hand he flicked open his engraved silver Zippo lighter, and lit the cigarette. He puffed contentedly for a moment, and then looked down at her, gazing up at him in adoration.

“Well?” There was impatience in his voice, but also amusement.

She felt flustered, a thrust several fingers of her right hand into her soft mouth, licking them until they were well lubricated, and then reached down underneath the hem of her skirt to slowly plunge two wet fingers into her sopping cunt, already engorged and almost vibrating with need.

I am his. I am his slut. I am his cum receptacle.

She was sopping wet and wished fervently that he would gift her aching pussy with his magnificent cock, but this wasn’t gonna happen yet, or maybe ever again. Instead, she reached over to where her panties were sitting bunched up on the floor where she has slipped them off earlier, and put them in between her thighs to soak up her flowing pussy juice. She pushed a little extra hard to pleasure her clit while he looked on.

Once they were good and soaked, a sopping wet little bundle of black lace, she pulled them out from under her skirt and began to quickly swab his dark shoes, cleaning off the dirt and dust of his evening stroll with her most intimate fluids, using the small slip of delicate fabric that had firmly cupped her wanton cunt and shapely ass all day long as a washrag.

When she was done, he looked down at his quickly drying shoes, moving his legs to inspect the inner and outer parts, and then gestured to the small black metal wastebasket next to the desk.

“Garbage.”

She scootched over to the garbage bin on her knees and dropped her used panties into the waste receptacle. Her chain jangled lightly as she moved.

His strong, low voice echoed into her ears.

“I was on a date with a beautiful woman tonight, slut. She had the most beautiful eyes, these piercing blue eyes. Not like your dull, hazel eyes. She was a blonde, with petite and delicately formed tits, just a perfect handful, you know? Only whores have big, juicy titties like yours. And she was slim, with a pert and muscular ass underneath this flowing green dress that modestly went all the way down to her calves. And what calves they were. I tell you, she was gorgeous. All the guys, and some of the girls, in the room couldn’t keep their eyes off her.” He grunted in appreciation.

“Tell me more, master.”

” I was at my best, too, you know. The day had been good to me. Business is up, I love seeing my investments paying off. And I could tell she liked me. I was funny tonight. I gave a shit. And I could tell she would say yes if I asked her back to my townhouse. You can see it in their eyes, you know. But I wasn’t sure she deserved me, maybe not quite yet. I need to see what she is made of first, before we go back to my place and I give her what she wants. And that will be my gift to her.”

“Watching that ass writhe as she walked away, though, made me want to visit you. I have something for you.” Mr. Aragon unzipped his fly and pulled out his semi-erect cock and let it flop down in between them like a fresh sausage, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“I am your cum receptacle, master.” She pulled her dark curly hair back out of her face and then reached up to cup his large and full balls. She licked them, one by one, before moving up his shaft, first encircling the base of his heavy cock with her slender, delicate fingers, which were almost unable to reach all the way around the throbbing member.

She clenched tightly, hoping to prolong their time together, and worked her full lips up the underside of his shaft, with the occasional swipe of her hot tongue, wrapping it up the sides of his cock as she finally found herself at the head, a enormous mushroom oozing precum as she opened wide to accept his gift into her wet fuck hole of a mouth.

He groaned as she sucked in her lips and played her tongue around the slit that was oozing the earliest signs of his upcoming ejaculation.

“I am your cum receptacle, empty your seed into me, master. That is your greatest gift of all.” She had come up for air to speak her truth, and then eased his bulbous head back between her full lips, and she sucked and licked and hummed around the twitching member as her free hand moved down below his ball, onto his perineum, pressing softly, a gentle prayer in his most intimate places, and then she she slid a pre-cum slicked finger in between his ass cheeks and onto the entrance of his butt. She wiggled her finger a little, as if to ask for permission to enter, before his ass allowed her finger to move into the clenching depths of his anus.

From experience she knew it was only a matter of seconds now, as she moved her finger into his ass and began to press firmly inward to the base of his shaft, where his prostate lay.

Mr. Aragon grunted a little as his member grew and spasmed in her tight grasp, her fingers forced aside as the force of his ejaculation began to grow in intensity and he reached the top of his orgasmic rollercoaster. She plunged her finger into his anus and felt it tighten like a vise grip around her delicate digit, and then he pushed his hips slightly forward, his shorthand for the imminent flood of his gift that she was about to recieve.

She securely locked her whore lips around his twitching rock hard member as it erupted in white hot spurts of thick ropey semen deep into her open throat.

“Ungh.” He grunted as he pushed his muscular hips into her face, filling her hot wet mouth with his copious spunk, over and over and over again, his hands falling onto her head, grabbing clumps of her hair, so that he could pull her face even closer around his spurting member, his pulsing cockhead lodged in her throat. She gasped for breathe and pulled back, and he slammed into her again. Her finger popped out of his clenching asshole and she grabbed onto his ass cheek, pulling him closer as he spurted his last round of milky jizz into her mouth, softening ever so slightly as the orgasm receded, leaving his cock a thick sausage resting on her tongue.

She moved back, cleaning his member with her lips and tongue as he fell out of her with a pop, his dong dangling heavily in the cool night air.

Her pussy throbbed with an uncontrollable need as he tucked his cock back into his smooth pleated suit pants. He took a drag on his cigarette and snuffed it out on a glass ashtray on his desk.

Then he left, the door pausing before shutting itself firmly with a click. She knelt on the carpet in his office in a pool of her own juices, his still-warm cum oozing down her chin and onto her breasts. Some of the gooey whiteness dripped down between her heaving mounds as she began to catch her breath.