Deuteronomy 23:5 (EHV) - But the LORD your God was not willing to listen to Balaam, and the LORD your God turned the curse into a blessing for you, because the LORD your God loved you.
Zen’s absolutely precious cause the night when you visit his apartment, he knows he’s goanna pounce MC the moment he holds her hand. Poor boy, even the smallest physical contact would get him riled up.
I’m baaack and with so many HC comics planned :’)) I’m still extremelly busy but I’m going to try so hard to balance everything out and make more content!
“Quiet,” Clarkston growled, clamping his hand tighter over Wes’ mouth. “Do you want somebody to hear you?”
Wes whined and squirmed, squeezing tighter around the older man’s cock. The hard wood of the glossy desk dug into his back, but he knew better than to try to complain. Last time he’d done that, Clarkston had actually spanked him. But obeying the command to stay quiet was going to be more difficult. Clarkston was big, bigger than anyone Wes had taken before, and he was rarely gentle.
“I said, quiet!” The hand not covering Wes’ mouth was pinning his wrists over his head, so Clarkston released his mouth to slap him across the face. “Little brat. It’s like you’re trying to get us caught.”
Wes sniffed, cheek still stinging. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said meekly, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m too tight.” Never ‘you’re too big’; Clarkston liked being told his dick was big, but if Wes couldn’t keep his mouth shut, he better take the blame himself.
“Mmm. Guess you are.” Clarkston pulled out, leaving Wes’ pussy sore and dripping. “Turn over, wrists behind you back. Now, Mr. Essex.” As he spoke, he reached up and started loosening his poison green tie.
Great, another spanking. When Clarkston released his hands, Wes rolled over and crossed his arms behind his back. From here, he could see his clothes, piled up on one of the chairs in front of Clarkston’s desk. Sleek cotton wrapped around his wrists and Wes blushed as Clarkston bound him up with his tie. They were in Clarkston’s office. In theory, they were prepping for his last meeting of the day. In reality, Clarkston was feeling pissy from a lunch negotiation gone bad and wanted to feel powerful.
Manicured hands grabbed Wes’ ass and squeezed it greedily. “Cute,” he whispered. Wes shivered as Clarkston’s palm stroked his folds. This was the only time Clarkston was ever tender; when he had Wes naked and bent over and utterly at his mercy.
Instead of a rough smack across the ass, however, Wes got a hand around the back of his neck. “Sir?” Wes asked, a little alarmed as Clarkston pulled him upright.
“We’re out of time, Mr. Essex, but I’m not denying myself.” Clarkston marched him around the desk and shoved Wes to his knees. “Under the desk.” At some point, he’d grabbed Wes’ clothes as well. He took a second to chuck them under the desk and out of the way.
Wes had gotten a glimpse of the clock. Clarkston’s next appointment was due in only three minutes. “Sir,” Wes said pleadingly. “Sir, please, we’ll get caught!”
Clarkston smirked and settled into his chair. “Not if you keep your mouth busy, and your whines to a minimum,” he purred. “Now, under the desk, or start updating your resume.”
Face burning, Wes crawled awkwardly under the desk. Clarkston’s chair slid into place after him. That manicured hand grabbed Wes’ hair and roughly pulled his mouth onto his cock. Wes cringed at the taste himself, but to be perfectly honest, a cock in his mouth always made him drool. There was no room to bob his head, so he focused on sucking. Lips working around the head and tongue roughly exploring the slit, Wes was rewarded with a bitten off groan. “Deeper,” Clarkston ordered, a tad breathless. Wes relaxed his jaw and swallowed Clarkston down, fighting off a gag when the head hit the back of his throat. “Good boy. Good boy, I love that pretty mouth…”
Clarkston’s leg shifted, and an expensive loafer slid under his pussy, offering something to hump against. Body getting hot with arousal, Wes moaned in appreciation and started to buck his hips. Before this whatever-it-was with Clarkston, he had no idea he could come from that. Now, it was one of his favorites.
On the desk top, the phone buzzed. “Mr. Clarkston, your 4 O’Clock is here.”
Clarkston’s thumb stroked Wes’ lower lip. “Good. Send them in.”
