Professor's Little Pet

After witnessing me make dozens upon dozens of unsuccessful attempts to get a hold of the zipper pull with my teeth, he eventually felt sorry for me and gave in. He growled, "Stay still," as he ordered. He grasped the pull for the zipper between his fingers as he reached for it. He mumbled, "Come here, pet, come put this in your mouth," as he called the animal over to him. Pet. I detested being called that. More than the actual act of stripping down to my underwear at his command, the word itself was degrading; it reduced me to a fucktoy for his amusement. I couldn't believe I'd made the mistake of staying, of leaning forward and putting the zipper pull in my mouth. I hated myself. And yet I did. While I was clenching my teeth and gripping the pull between them, his fingers lightly brushed against my lips. My mouth parted almost against my will as his fingers traced a gentle path between the seam of my lips for the first time that evening, and a shudder of arousal rippled through me as a result of his touch. This was the first time that he had touched me that evening. That trembling took me by complete surprise. I had always assumed that it was my submissive nature that turned me on, and that Oren's orders were merely a way for me to show that I was willing to comply with whatever he asked of me. But it hadn't been a rough touch at all; rather, it had been a light, fleeting touch, and for some reason, that had a greater effect on me than it should have. How is it possible, I asked the Magic 8 Ball inside my head, that despite everything, I am still attracted to Oren Bretton? With the teasing and the laughter and the sternly delivered orders? After I had pulled down the zipper, he finally became impatient and pushed his pants down his hips, at which point he removed his stunningly beautiful and engorged cock from his briefs. Suddenly, all thought left my brain, and my mouth opened almost automatically as I prepared to take this flawless example of manhood into myself and worship it in the manner in which it was intended to be worshipped. Please ask me again later, because the answer to your question about Oren has already been provided by my brain. After that, there was a complete and total shutdown as lust took control. My tongue reached out and tasted the bit of gooey goo that had formed, and for just a moment it swirled around his head, tasting him. It may sound like a cliche, but he had a flavor that was unmistakably and authoritatively masculine. Both salty and sweet, as well as the epitome of male perfection. Then I put my palms still on my knees while I took him into my mouth and began giving him the most effective blowjob I knew how to give. For a brief period of time, he was content to let me set the pace, and I took about half of his length in my mouth. With my tongue wrapped around his length, I kept my mouth slack as he slid in, and I sucked in my cheeks to increase the pressure on his way out. As I moved my head up and down his length, rubbing my tongue on the sensitive underside of his shaft, and sucking my mouth around his thick, smooth head, I could feel his cock becoming more robust and expanding in my mouth. This sensation continued even after I had finished sucking my mouth around his head. After hearing him groan for the first time, I felt a surge of triumph go through my body. At long last, evidence that he, too, had been impacted by this. He then looked at me while pulling his dick out of his pocket and saying, "Now, pet." I'm going to take your words, and I'm going to take them seriously. If you don't want my neighbors to be able to hear you groaning, I recommend that you keep the volume down. I became flushed, but there was no more time for me to react; he wrapped his hands around my long hair, tightened them to the point where there was a hint of pain, and then drew me closer to him. My hair was still tangled in his hands as he continued to hold me around the neck, and he was pressing my mouth deeper onto his cock. I had to force myself to relax so that I could take the full length of him in my mouth. His hands slid slightly lower. He was holding me around the neck. I tried my best to breathe through my nose despite the fact that his cock had hit the back of my throat. I concentrated on developing a rhythm in order to win his approval, and I knew I was making progress when I noticed that he was putting more pressure on my hair. Because of how rough he was, my pussy was leaking, and juice was dripping down my thighs and onto the stones of the patio; he had me completely horny. I gave myself a moment to catch my breath and try to moderate the pace of the conversation, but he was having none of it. He growled at me, "I'm going to set the pace now, pet," and while he was fucking me and using me for his pleasure, he moved his dick in and out of my mouth. He was using me for his pleasure. I was drooling, and I did my best not to gag; he gave me just enough time to breathe before he shoved his length down my throat. I was unable to stop the gag reflex. Because of the way he was treating me and because of the way I was allowing him to treat me, every nerve in my body was tingling with excitement and arousal.