There is something very sexy about you having your own room. I don’t mean your own bedroom – although there’s definitely a flutter of hot lust in my gut when I imagine you visiting my room for a functional fuck. Emptying your aching balls into me then disappearing into a den of your own for some proper rest. Like an entitled duke in some historical erotica. Using me because you can, then keeping the rest of your life separate and secret, so all I can do is lust from a distance and wish I could get closer.
I got distracted. Sorry. I’m horny, you see, because I keep thinking about you having your own room.
Not a bedroom, though: an office. A den where you retreat to get time away from me. An office with a door that I have to knock on to enter. A place where you sit alone, idly browsing porn and casually beating one out. Pausing every few minutes to bring yourself back from the edge of orgasm, taking a pull on a can of Coke, flexing your fingers, then starting again.
Your own room: a porn palace. A wank den. An office to which you can summon me.
When you’ve spent a good hour warming up, and browsing porn, deciding exactly which sensations you’d like on your dick right now, that’s when you call me. Demanding my presence.
Not “can you come to my office please?” but “get in here!”
A short pause as I swallow down my nerves and excitement then:
“Didn’t you hear? I said get IN here. NOW.”
Although I’ve been summoned, I still knock. Because this is your space. Your room. And in your own room you are king and God and all the terrible clichés that are only clichés because they work.
I knock on the door, and you tell me to enter.
As I walk in you’ve got porn playing on a monitor in the corner. Your dick is fat in your hand, and you’re squeezing it as you casually stroke yourself. You don’t take your eyes off the screen.
“Get on the floor,” you tell me. “I want to fuck your cunt.”
At no point do you look at me, or acknowledge that I’ve rushed here at your request. You expect it, because you demanded it.
Nor do you ever stop wanking. This isn’t, after all, a romantic fuck that’s designed to please me: it’s just an extension of the wank you were having in the first place.
I’m not getting fucked because you love me, I’m being used because I am useful.
As I bury my face in the floor, pull down my jeans to give you access to my cunt, the only acknowledgement I get from you that I’m doing what you want is a grunt of satisfaction as you shove your cock inside me.
You pull me back onto you so your dick slides in deeper – so you can stay seated comfortably on the sofa and still feel me tight and wet around you. Your legs are spread wide and your cock is deep in my cunt.
You lean forward to grab the back of my shirt – all the better to yank me back right down to the base of your prick.
“That’s good. That’s it. Stay there.”
And you pull me back and forth, sliding me up and down your dick like I’m only there for your pleasure.
I have to shudder and bite my lip in an effort not to come, because this is not about me: it’s for you.
You skip ahead in the video, and now the person on screen is getting anally fucked.
You see it, you want it, and so you take it.
You reach out to your right, grab a bottle of lube, sigh as if this is a tedious step that you’d rather not have to go through.
“Spread,” you order, and I do. I spread myself wide for you even as my cunt tenses involuntarily around your dick. I can’t see what’s on screen but I know what’s about to happen as you put the nozzle of the lube bottle inside me and squeeze hard. Cold, wet liquid squirts into me, and you roughly shove a finger in to spread it around.
You want me lying on my side, like the woman in the video. Knees tucked up to my chest in the best anal sex position – best for me because it’s easy, for you because you can look down and see your cock sliding into me and my cunt lips squashed between the tops of my thighs. As I flip over onto my side I try to take off my jeans, but you tut and slap my arse hard as if to say ‘don’t bother.’
This is not about me – it’s about you. You have easy access to my ass, so why bother revealing the rest? Maybe later, while you’re fucking me good and hard, you’ll want to reach up and pull down my shirt to grab a handful of one of my tits, or pinch one of my nipples to keep me from squirming. But for now your eyes are trained on the video, and you’re having the perfect wank, and all you need from me is obedience.
So I roll over, tuck my knees up to my chest, and feel my heart thumping in my throat.
You shove your cock in, stretching me out and making my knees weak. And you fuck me with quick, hard, rough strokes: the kind you’d rarely use if we were doing this face-to-face.
You fuck the way we never would when we are equals.
If we were doing this in any room other than yours.
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