mojavebluez

Michael came through the door, slamming it behind him.

"I'm so sick of him." You jumped a little, you had been sitting on the sofa waiting for him to come back from visiting his father in prison. From his tone of voice, it didn't seem like it had gone well. Michael made his way into the living room, face softening just a little when he saw you.

"Didn't go well?" You asked, you knew the answer.

"Not at all," Michael began, sitting down beside you on the sofa. "What does 'light' treason even mean?" He groaned. Michael began to loosen his tie.

"I'm sorry to hear that, it's not fair on you." You said apologetically. Michael had been so overworked lately. Between managing the company, his family, and the FBI, it had been a stressful few weeks. You wanted to help him but really there was nothing you could do.

But in this mess it also meant that the pair of had sex in a long while.

"I'm just so... frustrated."

Then it hit you. You knew what you could do to help.

"Frustrated?" You started.

"Frustrated. I mean it feels like I can't get a clear word out of my dad, everything is just so difficult with him." Michael muttered. You knew you had to help relieve some of this stress.

"Well maybe, if your frustrated..." You repeated. Michael turned to look at you, confused. You leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"You could take it out on me." That sentence sent shivers down Michael's spine. He straightened up, looking you in your eyes.

"Take it out on you?" Michael questioned, voice small, his anger lost somewhere between confusion and lust.

"Use me, Michael, be rough, let it all out." You smiled sweetly at him. Michael tried to remain composed even though the idea was making his cock grow harder and harder the more he thought about it. 'Take it out on you' the sentence kept repeating in his mind. It was so dirty. You knew he wanted this. If the tent he was pitching in his pants wasn't evidence enough, the way his face flushed and he now avoided looking directly at you were also solid clues.

"Unless," you rang mockingly, you were also quite horny now and not willing to wait any longer, "you're too much of a pussy-" Michael grabbed your face and kissed you rough. He wasted no time pushing his body on top of you until he had you pinned underneath him on the sofa. His tongue prodded at your mouth, demanding entrance. You whimpered out pathetically as your mouth opened. Michael smirked against your lips. He deepened the kiss, you both were growing more desperate. Your hands began to explore his body, craving some friction, some attention. After a minute, he pulled away, panting.

"You want this?" He confirmed quickly. You nodded your head.

"Use me Michael, take it out on me," you quickly replied. That was all the endorsement Michael needed.

"Get on your knees." You felt yourself get wetter as the words left his mouth. This demanding and dominating side was something you had never seen from Michael. Maybe this was something he always wanted to do. Maybe it was repressed. It didn't matter right now, you were savouring every second. You followed Michael's instructions and got on your knees in front of him on the sofa. You looked up at him. He looked divine. Hair messy, a few buttons undone. He breathed out a 'hm' and smiled weakly at the sight before him. He released his aching cock finally. "Don't need me to tell you what to do, do you sweetheart?" It was all too good to be true.

You gave his cock a few stroke to begin with, watching as his face began to relax. That was good. You started small, a few licks to the tip, he let out an annoyed groan. You shouldn't be teasing him - not when you're supposed to be helping him relax - but the noises he emitted were too good. Michael was growing tired of this though. He needed to feel you around his member. He jolted his hips up, making his tip hit your mouth.

"Just fuckin-"

To Michael's relief you finally opened your mouth fully and took his cock in whole. You attempted to start a pace, dragging your mouth up and down and swirling you tongue around the bottom occasionally. But that wasn't enough. Michael needed this to be fast and rough, and you just weren't doing it right. Michael groaned out and grabbed your hair. He planted his hand in your roots, directing your movement into a much faster and more rushed pace. You weren't expecting this of course, causing you to gag. Your eyes welled unexpectedly, now your mascara was running. Michael's caring nature returned still even in his overworked and frustrated state, his other hand met your face, cupping it and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

His directions grew faster, using your mouth like a fleshlight. As he could feel himself growing closer he broke out a couple low moans.

"Fuck- jus' like that, m'nearly there."

He groaned a long 'fuuuckk' before cumming in your mouth, causing you to choke and spit. Michael held your face once more.

"Swallow." His voice was low and raspy, it only made you wetter. You did as you were told and swallowed his load. He smiled at you. "Good. Now bend over," He said bluntly. 'He isn't wasting any fucking time tonight' you thought. You crawled back onto the sofa, bending over; face down ass up. Michael came behind you. He ran hand down the curvature over your waist before pulling both your pants and underwear down. He pushed a few fingers into your dripping hole, ensuring you were ready. You tightened around his fingers. Michael laughed at this. "Needy much?" Which was ironic since he was already hard again and desprate to fuck you.

He positioned himself behind you before entering you, making a pornographic noise as your pussy clenched around him. He didn't start slow, thrusting in and out of you at a quickening pace. He let out some low groans and growls in time with his thrusts.

"Fuck fuck!" You choked out. Michael didn't slow down though. He was so taken by his anger and lust that we hadn't noticed the fact you were close, chasing his own high. You came first around his cock, trying to catch your breath as he continued to pound you.

"M'almost fucking there," his voice went higher and whiny before he pulled out quickly, coming on your ass, thankfully.

You sat next to him, both heaving and out of breath. He turned to you, face full of concern.

"I wasn't too mean was I?" He questioned.

"No honestly Michael, it was amazing," you smiled. He smiled back, wrapped his arm around you and bringing you closer to him.

"Do you feel any better?"

“you can just leave them right there...” he drawled with a slight raise to his eyebrows, eyeing your respective movement to the corner of his desk. “that’s perfect. thank you, sweetheart.” it was quick, thrown out of his lips with a charming crease underneath his eyes.

you nodded, reminding him with a routine phrase to let you know if he needed anything else. you hoped he didn’t exactly catch the brief glance to his hands atop his desk, baby blue sleeves, of course, rolled to his elbows.

delivering papers to the head of the company, whom they were intended for in the first place, was not unusual, not difficult.

michael was definitely making it so.

no matter if he was bickering with someone on the other line, scoffing at a file and marking another, only meeting eyes with a narrowing of his own if his head was still angled to the work atop his desk, whenever you came in with a new number of papers in hand, he made sure to offer you a smile, fiddle with the folded edges of his shirt around his arms. if there wasn’t anyone in the room or another voice registering through the phone, he would ask how your day was going with a low cadence to his voice, nodding regardless of what you said.

the days were much the same. you handed him copies and files; he muttered ‘thanks, doll’ in a lower octave, a tilt of his head. his actions were becoming less a friendly demeanor and more of an ease into whatever made a heat crawl to the skin of your neck, the shells of your ears, your eyes to wander to the slope of his nose or the way he shifted to spread his legs at his desk chair.

kitty, to no one’s surprise, left early one shift, leaving you to do more work than you knew she even had that day. the office was quiet into the later hours, save for the one sitting in the room behind you muttering under his breath.

you ended the last few minutes in the copy room, already tracking the path to michael’s desk, the elevator, your apartment. the fluorescent lights were a sore that sunk into the blacks of your pupils, and you might as well have kept track of the number they subconsciously flitted to the open door of his office.

but, he wasn’t at his desk. you rifled through the pages to check that you copied the right ones and he stood in the doorway of the copy room after having been looking for you, and you hadn’t noticed him until you were nearly chest to chest.

your apologies blended into one another, his hand already reaching out in belief the papers were to slip out of yours.

before you could ask, the dusty blues of his eyes broke contact to glance at your hands.

“i got ‘em, you can head on home.” his speech was tired, slow, punctuated with a small breath and his hand brushing against your own, gesturing with a wink to the door.

perhaps it was the sleep that strung itself in your figure, or maybe it was a simple itch that needed to be scratched, but you placed a kiss to his cheek as a thank you, not glancing back as you made your way to grab your stuff.

“have a nice night, michael.”