#boot humping

But it seems like both of them had their fill of being good and proper and having "appropriate boundaries for a resident and attending" because now Dennis was begging Robby to use him on his dining room floor and Robby couldn't even pretend he was going to stop himself.

"You want to be told what to do?" Robby leaned back into his chair and pressed a thumb into Whitaker's pulse point, feeling the sway of the boy's neck as he gulped.

"God, yes." The answer came out fast and desperate, betraying any sense that Dennis wasn't getting in over his head.

"You want to be used?"

"Please."

"Ah, fuck. You think I'm gonna be nice with you? Gentle? You don't even know what you're asking for." Robby should at least say it-- name it. The way he leaned into his hands, responded to every ounce of touch, he'd let Robby do anything to him. That's a bad kind of power for a guy who's basically been taking every excuse to grope his intern at work.

"Teach me then." Robby's eyebrows shot up at the sudden edge in Dennis' voice. Bold? No, not bold. Bratty. Cute. "Isn't that your job?"

The floor under them began to shift, the whole house tilting on its axis.

"Oh, Whitaker." Robby's voice picked up a gravely condescension that cut straight through Dennis. It made him feel sliced open, raw. The man moved a hand from Dennis' neck to his hair in a painless, firm grip. "I'll tell you what. You want to be used? You want to get on my floor and beg for it like a dog? Fine by me." His grip tightened and Dennis let out a moan like it was ripped out of him. Robby moved close to the boy's ear, whispering now. "But you're gonna get what you get and I don't want to hear any complaining."

"Ah- ah, fuck. Robby-" Fuck, the kid's eyes were already glassy.

"That's the deal. Either say yes or pick yourself up off of the floor and go home. We'll pretend this never happened." As if.

"I want it." Dennis was gasping. He thought 'dizzy with lust' was an expression but if Robby wasn't holding his hair, he might topple over. "I can take it. I don't know how- uh. Please. Just let me prove it." Dennis bit his lip before bringing his hand up to Robby's thigh, hoping it could convey all the things he couldn't. I want you so much; it's been driving me crazy. No one's ever made me feel like this before. I don't want to think. I don't want to make any decisions. I want to you be yours. Please just grab me by my fucking neck again and show me what to do.

"Ok." Robby's mouth was set into a thin line. He was hoping it came off as stern but really he was trying not to moan at intimacy of that touch.

With millions of words and millions of lifetimes, Robby could not explain the thought process of what he did next. His brain was fried. The most beautiful, sweet boy in the world wanted him enough to be on his hands and knees begging for 'whatever Robby wanted.' That kind of choice paralysis could kill a man.

He pulled Whitaker further between his legs, pressing Dennis' face against his bulge.

"Oh thank you thankyou thankyou." The fabric was rough on his face. The thickness of the zipper pushed against his cheek. It was everything Dennis wanted. The heat of it-- the smell. It left his head cloudy and thick. His whole world distilled down to the raw scent of musk and the feeling of denim on his lips. Then, Robby ground down into his face and Dennis almost came in his pants.

"Oh! Ohmygod--"

"Shh. Just take it."

Dennis felt fucking filthy. He felt cheap. His attending was getting off on his face like Dennis wasn't even good as a hole. Tears welled up in his eyes at the sheer pleasure of being useful. Eventually, his head got with the program and he started mouthing at the fabric as it rolled against his face.

"Fuckkkk. That's a good boy. Letting me use you- ah- like a whore. So fucking good-- so easy. You wanna prove you can have it?"

Dennis didn't respond. He was too far gone, too into it to form words. Didn't matter. Robby pushed his boot between Dennis' legs hard and mean. Dennis groaned-- or maybe screamed. It was like every inappropriate fantasy he'd ever had about the older man were folding in on themselves, creating this unholy display on the hardwood beneath him.

"Don't pretend to have dignity now, kid. Show me just how bad you want it." Robby was right-- fuck-- he was always right. Dennis couldn't think about preserving his grace for a second. Robby's leg was firm and the thick laces felt so good through Dennis' pants. The pace was awkward, clunky. Dennis struggled to get leverage on the floor; his legs were falling asleep from kneeling. It made the whole things look even more debauched and desperate than it had any right to be. He was using every ounce of control-- every muscle in his body-- to ride his attendings boot with nothing more to get off on than the smell of his crotch. This was heaven. Fuck seminary school. This was what heaven was like.

Heat was building up in his gut faster than he thought possible. Dennis' hands started scrambling for a place to ground himself, finding the hairy chest of the man above him. His fingers landed on the warm metal of the Magen David hidden underneath Robby's shirt and Dennis knew that he'd give up almost anything to stay right here.

He moaned into Robby and Robby chased the vibration of it, creating a hedonistic feedback loop. He prayed Dennis was too distracted to notice how hard he was trying to hold out. He was already sleeping with his intern-- he couldn't finish first, let alone come in his pants. Pulling tighter on Dennis' hair, he ground his boot up, hoping it'd speed up the process.

"Come on, baby. Make yourself feel good don't-- hold back now. Show me how good you are. Be my good boy; you've earned it."

The words rocketed through Dennis so fast that it felt like broke the sound barrier. The shockwave tore through him before he could even see what had happened. Only left with an oversensitive cock pressing uncomfortably into damp boxers.

He thinks maybe he was moaning or begging but he's not sure. All he knows is that large, rough hands are petting his hair. Moving up and down to the nape of his neck, making him whole. Pulled apart at the seams and now being knit back together again. Robby let him stay like that for a while. Spent and fragile, right where Robby could keep him safe. Some warm, fucked up feeling in his chest bubbled up to his throat where he began to choke on it. Deep breaths. Robby had time to think about that later. He didn't want to be anywhere else right now.

Slowly, Dennis came back to reality. Stirring slowly until Robby thought he could-- mostly-- hold himself up.

"Ok, you earned it. Up." Robby slapped his hands on his knees and got up.

"What?" Dennis slurred.

"Bedroom, Whitaker. Now." When Dennis' still didn't respond, Robby looked down at the boy on the floor. Panting and breathless, he was leaning back on his hands-- the wet spot of his ruined jeans on display. As the oxygen flowed back to his brain enough for him to process the words, his expression shifted from confused to excited until a lopsided grin split across his face.

Your husband, Albert Wesker, had been in his office almost all day, only leaving when mandatory. He had so much work to do and research to look through that he didn’t have the time to see you.

But here you were, horny and desperate for his touch. Tossing and turning in bed, trying to just go to sleep and push away the feeling but nothing would work. You needed him.

You tossed the covers off of yourself and sat up in bed. The moonlight illuminated the bedroom just enough to see around and get to the door. Getting out of bed, you quickly walked to the door, the cool metal hitting your hand as you twisted the knob and walked out.

You continued down the hall to his office door. A weird feeling running down your body.. Maybe you shouldn’t bother him, he is working after all.

But your dripping cunt said otherwise, you needed him to satisfy you, no matter the way.

With that, you opened the door slowly. Seeing your husband sitting in front of many monitors, still fully clothed in his suit, shoes, and tie.

Wesker didn’t care to turn around, he knew it was you coming in. “Honey, when are you coming to bed?” You paused for just a second “I miss you”

You walked further into the room, closing the door as you waited for a response. “Hm.. I’m not sure.” His voice was deep and you could tell he was more focused on his work than you right now.

“You should go to sleep soon, it’s quite late.” He added, still not bothering to face you. “I’ve been trying but.. I can’t” you explained.

Now standing behind the chair he was sitting in, you place your hands on his shoulders. “Can’t you take a break… for me? Please?” You begged softly, hoping it would convince him to help you with how you’re feeling.

Albert Shakes his head “I have too much work to take a break”. You sighed, figuring you’d have to deal with yourself alone. You pulled you arms back and turned around, walking back to the door.

Until you heard his voice again. He let out a small and quiet sigh “actually.. come back” Your face lit up when he said that, quickly making your way back to him.

“On your knees” He was stern with the way he talked, like he was better than you and knew you would listen. “Yessir” you obliged, quickly dropping to you knees.

You assumed he wanted you to suck him off but when your hands went to reach his belt he smacked them away softly and clicked his tongue. “Don’t get greedy now, pet.” The way he said it made you even more wet than before. Soaking through the fabric of your panties.

You were confused, why did he want you down here if not to pleasure him? That was until you felt his leather shoe softly knocking into your side.

“Worship me, brat” is all he said. So you did.

You leaned down, looking up at him before you kissed his shoe. He looked back down at you with a smile. You continued to kiss his shoe as he went back to work.

That’s when you got an idea.. you sat up and spread your legs over his shoe, cunt hovering over it. Albert didn’t look down, he didn’t care what you were doing as long as it wasn’t bothering him.

You lowered your body down onto the leather of his shoe, the laces adding texture as you very slowly rocked your hips.

Once Albert felt the pressure on his foot he looked down, a smile on his face as he noticed what you were doing. “That feel good, pet?”

You quickened your pace, still going quite slow though to get used to the feeling. “Mhmm, I’m sorry.. need this” you apologized.

He brought his hand down to your face and let his thumb caress your cheek “it’s alright pet, you can continue.”

You smiled at both his touch and permission, moving your hips quicker as you grab onto his leg and thigh for support.

Wesker went back to his work, moving his hand back up to his desk. You could hear the taps of his keyboard and the click of a mouse but you drowned it out with pleasure.

Going quicker you found a pace you liked, the smoothness of the leather mixed with the ridges of the lace through your panties was exactly what you needed right now. “Mmm fuck..” you moaned quietly, continuing at the pace you set.

You leaned your head on his knee, taking in the scent of him as you humped his shoe. He always smelt so good. A musky scent mixed with leather and amber. You didn’t even realize your pace quickened as you smelt him. Letting out another moan as your clothed pussy humped the show, your clit being hit with multiple different texture and feelings.

“Mmm~! Albert please..! can I cum?” You asked permission as you got closer to feeling the knot in your stomach.

Albert looked down with pity in his eyes, almost like he felt bad that you were so desperate. “Yes pet, you may.” He leaned back in his chair, his hand meeting your face once again as he stared down at you.

“Thank you sir.. thank you!” You moaned out louder, chasing your release as you went faster. “Fuck this feels so good..!”Your wetness making the leather smoother as you moved.

“Oh my goddd!” You drew out “nghh~! I’m cumming!“ The knot in your stomach finally tightened, leaving your hips jerking as you cum. Your hole tightening around nothing but air. Albert’s smell flooding your nose as you become a moaning mess beneath him.

Albert’s hand continues to caress you, acting as comfort as you come down from your high. Looking up at him with tired eyes and heavy breaths.