Honey, it's okay. I know you're still awake. It's sweet of you to pretend so I can go to
sleep, but come on. When you're really asleep, your chest rises and falls so gently next
to me. Right now it's like you're wrestling with each breath. You need to relax. I know.
It's not something you can do by thinking about it. After the day you've had, you probably
just want to let it all go, empty your mind, and go to sleep. But you can't. You're still
stressed and pissed off. It's okay. You're allowed to feel these things. After everything
that's happened at work with your family, even the neighbor's dog tearing up our lawn,
you either get mad or go mad, right? You never need to worry about keeping me awake or putting
stress on me. You never have to carry anything alone. If you want to talk some more or even
tap and go somewhere, do something. You want to go right now? No, you're right. Being spontaneous
sounds a lot like irresponsibility these days, and you need to rest before you have to go
back to that bloody boss of yours. Calm, controlled. That's a fun thought, but I don't think workplace
silence would be a good substitute. Besides, I'm the only one you're allowed to spank
and slap. Your coworkers aren't getting any of that action, mister. Please, honey. You
know we both need rest. However far away it feels, I'm here with you. I'll help you. All
that stress, all that pent-up energy, I can drain it all away. You know exactly what I'm
talking about. I know you haven't been in the mood tonight. Even now with me cuddling
up to you, it's like I'm wrapping myself around a statue. And that's fine. I get it. You don't
want your stress to taint everything between us, but you need release. You need to get
rid of some of that aggression. You need to feel trained and satisfied. Yeah, I know you're
not in the mood, but that doesn't matter, because we're not having sex. This hand tracing
down your body, feeling your chest, it's not your loving girlfriend's hand. Right now I
could be anyone, because this isn't about me. It isn't about making love, or even fucking.
You just need to be emptied. Close your eyes, I pull the blankets back, run my hand down
along your boxers. Don't think, especially not of me. Just lie there and let the sensations
sink down into your body, softening your edges, melting the stress away. You're already hard.
Poor thing, all pent up. How long has it been since you went a whole day without coming?
No wonder you're so tense. Here, I'm taking your cock out, letting it stand free, pulsing
in my hand. Here, let's zip it up. Get you hard, so I can go fast. Remember, this isn't
about sex. You don't need to try and hold on. You don't even need to enjoy it. Just
lie back and let everything heat up. Boil over and pour out. Oh honey, I'm sorry. This
is still too sweet, isn't it? I don't want to force this. We should never have to force
anything with each other, but you do really need to come, so maybe you can force me. Yeah,
really, stop worrying about how you feel, how I feel, anything between us. This is about
filling a need, satisfying a hunger, and nothing else. Like jerking off, like being milked
by a stranger, like closing your eyes and feeling a warm mouth close around your cock.
Oh, fuck, I love your cock.
That it's not about what I love. It's not about love at all. This is just about you
and your need and tight lips wrapping around your tip. It's about the fingers cracking
your balls and the spit sliding down your shaft. It's about a wet tongue. It's about
your tongue swirling over your head while a hand pumps and jerks and milks your need
right out of you. Grunting, throbbing in this hand, but it's not enough, is it? You don't
want a blowjob. You need an orgasm. That's all. Your hips are twitching. You want more.
You want to feel a nice, tight throat pumping against the head of your cock.
It's like that. No, eyes closed. Don't worry about me. Don't even think about anything
but your cock. This isn't sex. I'm not even a person to you right now. I'm just a thing,
a toy, something to make you come. Just a wet hole bushing down.
Not enough. I need, I need you to buck those hips. Reach
down. Grab your fuck toy by the hair. Hold her head as she tilts it back, opening her
throat up for you. Yeah, yeah, that's right. No user. Use this fuck toy until you can't
take it anymore.
It's not enough.
It's not enough.
No, don't. Calm down my throat, please. Just, just calm down.
Please, just, just brush up your fuck toy and hold her down until you saw every bit
of seed in her. Milk yourself with her throat, please. Please, please.
It's not enough.
Most, most, most of it went down. Just, just a bit in my mouth. All of your cock, all of
your energy, all of that tension poured out into me. No, please, don't. I'm fine, honey.
I'm me. I'm here with you again. And I know you're happy. It's okay. But it was the fun
kind of wrong, right? I'm not sure if that broke my depth record, but honey, I'd let
you choke me to sleep with that cock if it helped you relax. Okay, that sounded a lot
sweeter in my head. Yeah, I can be sweet again. I can crawl up your body, high by your side,
with my arms wrapped around you, my head folded in the crook of your arm, just sharing the
warmth. What? Oh, I always want to kiss you.
What's the nice thing about you mostly coming in my throat? I'm still practically minty
rash for you. All right, I'll stop joking around. But I saw you smile that time. Yeah,
it's dark, but I know your smile better than my own. You're gonna be okay. I mean it. You're
at ease now. Those heavy balls not weighing you down quite so much. Finally starting to
feel tired. I'm going to lie here beside you, pressed against you, legs and arms all over
you like an enormous octopus. And you're going to close your eyes one more time. And we're
gonna stay like this all night. If you need to talk, if you need to move, if you need
to use one of my holes, you just say the word. I'm here for you, however you need me, because
you're here for me too. You're always here for me. Sleep now, honey. Just breathe and
rest and sleep.