Watery Eyes

With my watery eyes closed, I relaxed and came to a place of pure submission. His roughness and complete disregard for my breathing and balance reinforced what I love—I am his property, his personal means of pleasure. My body is not my own...it is His. Some far part of my brain remained cognizant of the smell of my wet pussy, the cool air against my swollen dripping lips, and the ache that will not subside—it was not my focus.

Instead I focused on the warmth radiating from his swollen, throbbing cock as it quickly slid back and forth in my mouth. His head hit the back of my throat opened my mouth wider to accommodate his thick cock. He pushed my head onto his cock deeper than it had been all night and the ache deep in my pussy circulated through my body.

A cavernous groan filled the room as his cock filled my mouth. My nose pressed against him. As he held me in position he started to cum. I felt the first shoot hit the back of my throat. Unable to breathe, I struggled to drink all his seed as his cock shot multiple streams down my throat. My attempts to moan stifled, I heard no sound.

He had a final spasm and the last drop of cum slid down the back of my throat. He looked down and realized that in concentrating on his unloading, I neglected to breathe for the last 15-20 seconds. He stopped pushing his cock down my throat, but remained in my mouth Despite wanting to gasping for air immediately , I kept my lips wrapped tightly around his cock as he slowly pulled out of my mouth to ensure I got every last drop.

Then he bent down and held his arms out to me. Gasping for air, I fell forward into his arms and wiped my watery eyes with the back of my hands, which felt sore from clenching behind my back. He tried to lift us both up but my knees buckled and he lowered us to the floor as he held me.

"You gave me a very intense orgasm, Ana," he whispered while rubbing my back. I could hear the remaining pleasure in his voice and I smiled.

I looked up at him and licked the last whiteness from my lips. A wave of relief passed over me and I felt calmed and invigorated by those few words.

We held each other for several minutes. Once I heard both of our heartbeats and breathing resume a normal rate, I reverted to my previous kneeling position before him. He stood and smiled as he brushed my black curly hair from my face and tucked it behind my ears. He stroked my tilted head several times before gently cupping my chin and raising my head to meet his eyes.

In a velvety soft tone contrasting the abrasiveness of his question, he asked, "You enjoy being face-fucked, don't you my sweet girl?"

I know that he knows the answer, but this is not about the question—it is about me verbalizing the answer and admitting it to myself. I mentally sigh.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered feebly.

He smiled sympathetically and, in an almost nurturing way, said, "Say it. Tell me what you are, Ana."

"I enjoy being face-fucked by your cock and am grateful to be your cum slut, Sir," I said shyly.

Maintaining eye contact became difficult and I fidgeted.

He had me write that sentence, along with other similar declarations of my slutiness, hundreds of times over the last several months. One would imagine it would get easier. I mean I know what I am and I know that he knows what I am, but saying it aloud is still very difficult.

He knew all of this and seemed to accept my soft spoken admission. He motioned me up, guided me to the bed, and lay me down. As I curled up with my back towards him, he climbed in behind me. With his chest pressed against my back and his cock aligned with the crack of my ass, he held me tightly whispered, "What are you thinking about?"

I paused briefly and I turned my head to look back at him.

He gave an encouraging nod and ay I spoke.

"I enjoy being your property Sir— the means of your pleasure. You push me in ways I could have only hoped for in a Master. There is a freedom I cannot explain and for that I will be forever grateful, Sir."

He tightly squeezed me from behind. "The gift you give to me is one hundred times more precious, my sweet Juliana. It truly is I that is thankful," he said as he kissed the back of my head. "Now let us get some sleep. It is going to be a very long day tomorrow and I have many tasks planned for you."

His mysterious tone in that last sentence kept me awake long after I heard the rhythmic cadence of his breathing. A surprise? After a good 30 minutes of thinking what he could mean, occasionally getting drawn into different fantasies that came to mind and playing them out — him at his desk and me crouched underneath of it for one — I gave up. Exhaustion took over.