âQuiet,â Clarkston growled, clamping his hand tighter over Wesâ mouth. âDo you want somebody to hear you?âÂ
Wes whined and squirmed, squeezing tighter around the older manâs cock. The hard wood of the glossy desk dug into his back, but he knew better than to try to complain. Last time heâd 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.Â
âI said, quiet!â The hand not covering Wesâ mouth was pinning his wrists over his head, so Clarkston released his mouth to slap him across the face. âLittle brat. Itâs like youâre trying to get us caught.âÂ
Wes sniffed, cheek still stinging. âIâm sorry, sir,â he said meekly, voice barely above a whisper. âIâm too tight.â Never âyouâre too bigâ; Clarkston liked being told his dick was big, but if Wes couldnât keep his mouth shut, he better take the blame himself.Â
âMmm. Guess you are.â Clarkston pulled out, leaving Wesâ pussy sore and dripping. âTurn over, wrists behind you back. Now, Mr. Essex.â 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 Clarkstonâs desk. Sleek cotton wrapped around his wrists and Wes blushed as Clarkston bound him up with his tie. They were in Clarkstonâs 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.Â
Manicured hands grabbed Wesâ ass and squeezed it greedily. âCute,â he whispered. Wes shivered as Clarkstonâs 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.Â
Instead of a rough smack across the ass, however, Wes got a hand around the back of his neck. âSir?â Wes asked, a little alarmed as Clarkston pulled him upright.Â
âWeâre out of time, Mr. Essex, but Iâm not denying myself.â Clarkston marched him around the desk and shoved Wes to his knees. âUnder the desk.â At some point, heâd grabbed Wesâ clothes as well. He took a second to chuck them under the desk and out of the way. Â
Wes had gotten a glimpse of the clock. Clarkstonâs next appointment was due in only three minutes. âSir,â Wes said pleadingly. âSir, please, weâll get caught!âÂ
Clarkston smirked and settled into his chair. âNot if you keep your mouth busy, and your whines to a minimum,â he purred. âNow, under the desk, or start updating your resume.âÂ
Face burning, Wes crawled awkwardly under the desk. Clarkstonâs chair slid into place after him. That manicured hand grabbed Wesâ 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. âDeeper,â 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. âGood boy. Good boy, I love that pretty mouthâŚâÂ
Clarkstonâs 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.Â
On the desk top, the phone buzzed. âMr. Clarkston, your 4 OâClock is here.âÂ
Clarkstonâs thumb stroked Wesâ lower lip. âGood. Send them in.â Â
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