At 5.29am sharp, I brought my mouth over her nipple and proceeded to suck on it to wake her up, in a slow, gentle manner that she couldn’t help moaning to. Within seconds, I could feel the hardness with my tongue, still swirling around her aerola.
The moment she spread one of the thighs outward, I slid a hand over her soft skin and slipped the edge of my index finger between her labia, moving back and forth along the sensitive folds of her pussy. Next, I placed my fingertip on her clit and began rubbing in circular motion, until both her legs were widened like a frog’s.
(I whispered) ‘Can I?’
Climbing into her bed as stealthily as possible, I positioned myself right below her groin, penis up and ready to awaken more of her senses. With the aid of some saliva, I slipped my manhood easily into her and held my upper-body up in a push-up stance, while jutting just my hips at her groin.
Swiftly plunging my cock into her increasingly wet hole, she began stirring more sensually in the bed, mostly fumbling her arms around to grab and let whatever she had caught, go.
Despite being the ‘victim’ in this sick enslavement, I had gradually grown to accept my fate in this role of a sex slave, a minor character to a woman who lived a life I could only dream about.
On the day I turned thirty, she reached out to me, to ask about how, and what was I doing, where was I, in terms of – life. Half-disheartened and joyless, she made a suggestion that I never thought would last this long, or even impacted me this much.
Taking up her advice, I moved in with her and began adapting to my (new) life of a ‘houseband/ homemaker/ personal butler’ to the likes of a younger, career woman. At first, I was tasked with daily chores, cooking, preparing everything she needed to start her day, and provided a comfortable environment for her to sleep.
Shortly after, I was asked to ‘help’ her with more intimate stuff, like showering her while she did her hair, dressing her up as she applied makeup, to the uncomprehensible task of relieving her – sexually.
Although I didn’t think too much about holding the vibrator for her, things soon took a weird turn once she requested me to ‘rub one out’ for her. My assistance in that aspect expanded rapidly to fulfilling her fetishes like bondage, taking erotic photos/ videos, and finally, having sex with her.
That last part was really what opened the can of worms when she included ‘performance drugs’ in my diet, to maintain an erection for most of the times she was home.
(She moaned) ‘Keep going! Keep.. haaa.. going! I’m gonna.. gonna.. COME!’
Sinking her teeth deep into my neck, her vagina suddenly tightened around my cock, gripping me to a choke before I had to pull it out. In a quick-witted move, she slammed me back into her pussy with her feet on my ass, ramming me deeper into her contracting hole.
(She whispered) ‘Not until you cum.’
‘Are you sure?’
I carefully brought her hands to the two corners above her head, and held them down as I thrust, from a slow, to a forceful, merciless tempo which sent her groaning in agony. Her knees flipped themselves up into the air to let me in as deep as I could go, scrubbing her G-spot so rapidly until I felt her pussy clamping onto me again.
(I groaned) ‘You are.. tight!’
‘It’s you.. huu.. huu.. who is.. getting bigger.. AHHH!’
The moment she snapped, her vaginal walls shut around me once again, this time encasing me in the stiffest grip I had never experienced, which caused me to erupt bountifully into her exhausted, overworked hole.
Like a seasoned manslut, I grabbed a few pieces of tissue as I let myself out of her, soaking whatever cum that leaked out of her with the 3-ply Beautex. As for the rest that was still inside her, she would go on with her work with them, letting them loose slowly for me to clean them when she returned.
Ever since the beginning of our unconvential relationship, she had went on the pill to reduce the use of sanitary pads, and also permit the providence of my intimate services. For someone who planned to stay single, it was, in some ways, a clever solution to ease her sexual temptations, serving as an outlet for the stress she gained from work.
For the rest of the morning, after fucking her another time in the shower, I was left to catch up on my sleep, do some chores, cook a hearty lunch , before becoming the ‘chair with a protruding piece of wood’ for her to sit her pussy on as she ate.
On that special work day, besides exempted from doing any more chores, I was told to take advantage of the blue pill I ingested, to tire her out for an early night.
(Moaning softly) ‘Mmm.. you’re so big.. ‘
The next morning, I woke up with her mouth over my dick, sucking hungrily as she threw playful glances at me.
(In my drowsy voice) ‘Is it?’
‘I’m so lucky to have you as my older brother. Mmm~’
And I couldn’t disagree more, for it was the other way round.