BUNSNUB: Another Love Story Ch. 13

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Ms. Handlesmen’s right hand brought me pain while her left brought me pleasure, ’twas a teeter-totter of love I rode, in complete abandon.

Yesterday the job began as one of the roughest and ended as one of the most memorable. For the first time in my life I beheld a woman’s breast. Not just any woman’s breast, Ms. Handlesmen’s breast. It was after hours and I was in the process of receiving yet another bonus. I was proud to have earned one every day so far and planned on earning one every day from then on.

I was where I belong on the floor kneeling before Ms. Handlesmen. She sat with her legs crossed while enjoying one of her favorite cigars, the spicy aroma of which only served to tickle the air about the moment. She was without jacket or blouse and sat conversing with the secretary, who sat in the chair behind me. They carried on in a professional business fashion, while encouraging me to act out my most disgusting fantasies. To their delight and after only three days, I was degrading myself in ways I’d never imagined possible. I acted like a small horny puppy that’d just found a leg to hump, only it was a hand and it didn’t push me away. Everyone encouraged my prostitution, my self-mortification whenever it began, and I never let them down.

I was in Ms. Handlesmen’s slickened left hand, with my body draped up her arm. Both my arms and hands clutched her slender limb, as I might a lover’s body and I kissed her shoulder tenderly, tempting privileges I’d not been granted. I couldn’t help staring at the breast nearest me, and it’s neighbor, which I could see through the well-stretched material of a flimsy bra. The transparent fabric was stretched to it’s limit around each mammary and I could actually see both nipples. They were long and they were thin, they were pink for sure and they looked very swollen, very hard. They were threatening to poke through the silk skins, their ultra-thin prisons.

I will always remember and cherish that evening with Ms. Handlesmen. She was talking with the secretary as I continued humping her hand in an escalating frenzy. I attempted not to hurry the experience, not to rush what I wished never to end. She put down her cigar, caught and looked down into my eyes. She pierced through the haze of enchantment that clouded my vision and corralled my egolessness. Her free hand, led by her long fingers, dipped into her bra.

“Have you been a good boy, Joey,” she asked. With rapid miniature movements I jiggled my head up and down ‘yes’. I could see her hand begin squeezing her tit, playing with it and preparing it for my dreams. I felt ready for its possible exposure, but I dared not move my eyes while hers held mine as they did.

Ms. Handlesmen’s expression didn’t allow me to move, to look away or even glance at her breast, but my peripheral vision, steered by passion, eluded her control. During the past three days I’d become adept at interpreting visions outside my direct line of sight, it developed as a natural byproduct of obedience. While my eyes stayed transfixed to hers, my mind watched her hand fondle the breast.

Seemed to me she was mauling the breast and it was swelling in her hand as a result. Her self-manipulations made me hotter and provided me a better idea of the tit’s size and resiliency. I also noticed she was working the cup of her bra down, over her hand and away from the mammary. Suddenly my heart stopped along with my breath and time, as she scooped the mound of flesh out over the top of her bra and moved her hand aside. My cock swelled in her grip as my mind grappled with interpretations of subliminal images. I was concerned with my heart and catching my breath, but could do little about either while attempting to regain my tempo. Though the magnificent orb was now displayed, my eyes had yet to explore it in any direct way. They had yet to escape Ms. Handlesmen, but their desires showed only too well.

“Joey, don’t be vulgar, keep your eyes where they belong and right now that’s with mine, like this,” my cruel lover said. It was true, she could read ankara yabancı escort my thoughts as well as dominate them. I broke down with a sorrowful frown, because more than anything else I wanted to look at that most wondrous part of my lover’s anatomy. For the first time in my life a breast was there for me to see, right in front of my face, yet its owner had forbidden me to look at it. It wasn’t easy, keeping my eyes from disobeying, but Ms. Handlesmen’s foreboding look helped keep me in check. “By rights Joey, your eyes should never travel above my waist without permission, but like I’ve said, for some reason I’m more lenient with you then I’ve been with any other male. Possibly too lenient, but that’s another matter. You’d like to look at my breast wouldn’t you?” I looked at her in awe, with my mouth open.

“Yes ma’am,” I barely blubbered in return. My mouth was full of cotton, arid and scratchy. I pressed my lips to her shoulder.

“Will you always stay an obedient little boy for me? Can I count on you to always submit without question, Joey,” she asked. I knelt before this superb female, our eyes attached. Her eyes came with grappling hooks on the ends of long hemp lines. She’d dropped the hooks into mine, snared my Id and held me rapt. Meekly, I accepted her boot-stomping siege of my heart, never concerned as to why she hadn’t simply opened the door. All the while, my enflamed mine imagined what my peripheral vision thought it saw and I of course shook my head ‘yes’. “Then you may look at my breast Joey, you may look to your hearts content. If you’re a good boy Joey and I mean a very good boy, then I may allow you to see it often. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” My head continued shaking ‘yes’ after my eyes sailed from the eyes of a snickering Ms. Handlesmen.

In a rush to gaze upon the opulent object, my eyes tore and severed the lines between us asunder. Ms. Handlesmen went back talking with the secretary, as if some meaningless insignificant transaction had just taken place. It was as if I’d become invisible, an inconsequential nuisance successfully shooed away, but I couldn’t care less. I had what I wanted and it was again more then I’d hoped for.

I ogled the great orb, the most beautiful object I had ever seen, while my breath slowly returned with a great sigh and my heart began pumping again, along with my boner. The breast vibrated from my lover’s chest to the cadence of my gyrating hips. It jiggled like a gigantic flesh-colored over-filled water balloon on the verge of exploding, while suspended from its knotted end. I stared, captivated by its size, its delicately veined surface and its thin, but meaty nipple. I parted my knees well and dug them into the rug, then wiggled my behind, accidentally stirring my hard-on in a new sensual way I enjoyed. For long periods of time the only sounds in the room were my panting and those of my self-lubricating boner squishing and sloshing around in the sopping confines of Ms. Handlesmen’s soft, but exciting fist. My actions kept the ladies in tears of laughter.

On the floor, directly below Ms. Handlesmen’s fist was a small round dish of clear glass. It was protecting the rug by collecting the juices that dripped from her hand as I worked within it. Her hand looked as if it had been submerged in a vat of syrup, a white creamy syrup and left dripping, like a freshly dipped taffy apple. It was connected to the plate with long thick strands of juice I continued secreting by the ounce. It didn’t seem to bother my lover. Like a great maestro she played me by adjusting the pressure of her fist, inciting me and controlling me as she wished.

I certainly didn’t mind when I heard them laughing at me, laughing at the way I acted, and over the things they’d gotten me to do, but nothing could bother me now. What I had lived to behold was now swaying before my eyes and I prayed Ms. Handlesmen would allow me to touch it, which I highly doubted.

“Isn’t it adorable? If only every male could accept bahçelievler escort its place so readily. I think its buns are very cute,” Ms. Handlesmen said. I felt their looks, but couldn’t take my eyes off the breast. I was pistoning in my lovers hand with quickening long strokes, bringing myself to that moment of ecstasy.

“It is nice, and I have to admit it’s a hot one,” the secretary responded thoughtfully. I barely felt the weight of her words, or their eyes upon me while in my present condition. I gripped my lovers arm tighter and hugged it to me while starring at the beautiful tit.

“Yes he’s quite the little stud, just look at the way he keeps those hips moving. I have a dynamo here, and with a fair sized piston. I’ve got it producing enough juice to choke a horse and you know something, if I’m right, we can successfully bottle these fluids and pass it off as an expensive cologne for males owned by cuckolds and dykes. The company will reap a fortune,” Ms. Handlesmen said with a laugh and then they both laughed. I felt her soft wet hand constrict slightly, adding friction to my endeavor. She pressed her shoulder against my lips and brought her breast lower, within inches of my face. Both women laughed when I stopped moving to stare at the nearing mammary. I was sweating hard and looked as if I just stepped from days in a hot sauna.

“I think he’d like to get his hands on that,” the secretary said with another laugh. “He’s such a horny little fucker.” My knees were weak and quivering uncontrollably. Ms. Handlesmen’s hand was squeezing me gently, milking my cock and holding me erect.

“Oh I’m sure he would, his dirty little hands and his mouth too, if I’d let him,” Ms. Handlesmen answered. She watched me carefully, while shaking her tit gently before me. “I’m sure there’s nothing he would rather do right now then touch it. He wants to grab it and suck on my nipple like the baby he is.” Though my eyes stayed faithful to their mission of examining the breast, I mulled the truthfulness of those words. I could hear the snickering of both women, their insulting verbiage serving to spur me on. The more they degraded me, the hornier I became.

I was in my own world, in my own dream-scape, with the objects I had come to adore. I watched the breast stir with each breath Ms. Handlesmen took and kept returning to the nipple. I imagined it ready for a pair of lips and the suction of desire, my cravings. Again, I began pistoning my hard-on in her fist as fast as I could, unable to forestall the inevitable any longer. ‘What would she do if I just reached up to grab her nipple with my mouth’ I thought. I didn’t wish to find out. Perspiration rolled from every pore in my body, long streams of sweat dribbled down my frame from everywhere. Suddenly the crisis was upon me, and my homage was due. I grabbed my lovers arm tighter and pressed my open mouth to her soft round shoulder. I used my tongue to lick her skin, my wet lips to kiss and my words of commitment to gurgle. My endeavor produced loud slurps and bubbles that melded with my hard-on’s sloshing. My music made both women fall into a snickering silence until Ms. Handlesmen announced my arrival.

“Shhh… He’s about to ejaculate and you don’t want to miss this, it’s adorable,” I thought I heard Ms. Handlesmen tell the secretary. She then came close to me and whispered in my ear, loud enough for the secretary to hear also. “Don’t forget to catch all of your mess on the saucer.” She handed me a slightly off-white saucer that had a pink heart painted in its center. Her breast came closer yet and I thought surely the nipple was going to touch me. I was sweating hard, suspended between time and space, between heaven and hell. I started twitching as the nipple came closer and closer, but it was too late and my time had arrived.

With my right arm extended, I held the small plate by my thumb and two fingers, under the head of my penis, just the other side of my boss’s hand. I kept my left arm and hand balgat escort around her limb for stability.

“Here It cums,” Ms. Handlesmen announced and my penis swelled with the first surge. I had to do some quick maneuvering to catch that first blast, which hit the plate with a splatter. My hard-on exploded with each in-stroke, with the head of my penis sticking out from her fist. My sperm exploded in a series of hot, successively diminishing splatters.

Both women had kept silent during my rendition of the oldest love song, as I groaned to my releases and used my lovers hand to pump my load onto the saucer. It was only my lover’s grip of my hard-on that kept me from toppling over.

“That’s my boy. Do a good job for me Joey,” Ms. Handlesmen said to me in encouragement. “You go ahead and pump yourself dry. Empty yourself completely.” The ladies laughed together as I slowly finished. In the end, I used tiny jerks as the fist wrung the last drop from my tube. I stayed draped against Ms. Handlesmen’s arm, panting and subsiding into relaxation, struggling to keep hold of my offering. My eyes stayed fixed on the breast and my fingers on the saucer.

“Okay Joey, kneel up here and bring me your offering to inspect. Let me see how much sperm I’ve cultivated today,” Ms. Handlesmen said. I brought the plate up slowly in both hands, as if lifting the chalice of everlasting life. I lifted it aloft, above my own vision, to where my lover could see it comfortably.

“You must admit Joey, that I’ve brought you a long way. Turn around and show my secretary what I’ve extracted from your balls this evening,” Ms. Handlesmen went on. My eyes were still glued to her breast, watching it dance from her chest as she talked and moved. I reluctantly turned my body and lifted the plate up to the secretary so she could view my gift. I impressed her with my obedience and amused her with my fixation.

“My, you certainly have this one producing a good quantity of cum. Good job Ms. Handlesmen,” the secretary said while nonchalantly looking over my essence. Both women started laughing again, as they had the entire evening. The secretary needed to wipe the corner of her eye again, while fighting for self-control and calm.

“And now for the piece de resistance,” Ms. Handlesmen said like a ring master. Her head came to my left shoulder to watch. “Joey, clean your plate the way I taught you, then clean my hand. Show the secretary how you do it.”

I looked at the thick splattering of warm jism and considered the strange odor as I brought the saucer and my mouth together. The secretary was suddenly engrossed by my actions and watched intently as my tongue emerged to wipe up warm thick globules of sperm.

“Look at me while you clean your plate boy,” the secretary ordered.

“Yes Joey, look up at her, show my secretary how much you enjoy the taste of your own spunk,” Ms. Handlesmen pursued with a snicker.

“Such a good boy,” the secretary said in awe as my tongue sopped up another thick wad that caused me to gag a little. I was soon chewing on the thick jism, providing the music, the only sounds in the entire room.

After making the plate spotless, chewing my jism well and swallowing it, I turned to happily clean Ms. Handlesmen’s hand. I went for the one that pleased me, the one I had sex with, my lover. I was saddened that she then put her breast away, but lapped at her hand with complete abandon, until it too was spotless. I would earn the right to see her breast again and work at being allowed to touch it. I was too close to my goal to give up now.

Just before I thought it time to leave I was made to clean the other plate, the one that collected my juices as I pumped. Afterwards, my lover asked me to stay and I did. I was kept on the floor between the women for a couple hours, providing them with whatever entertainment popped into their minds. I never realized women could be so licentious, or having a job so rewarding.

I went home that night on a dirty cloud composed of lint, concerned with only one thing. I was worried about something Ms. Handlesmen said. She mentioned that I was being sent away, for further training. It was the type of heartache I had little time for, as I was finally a happy boy. I had pleasant dreams, dreams of love and romance, and tonight of Ms. Handlesmen’s breast. By morning, I was determined to earn a chance to see it again, that very day.

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