Office Slut Pt. 15

My Master asked me the strangest question the other day--if he could meet my parents. He asked so sweetly that I couldn't simply say no, although I was still unsure of his true intentions.

That wasn't unusual, though. I hardly ever knew what was going on in Mr. George's mind. I've spent almost every day with him for nearly two months, but he is still a mystery.

Friday night finally came, and I nervously awaited Mr. George's arrival in my childhood bedroom. I shot down the stairs when I heard his strong knock, but my parents had beaten me to the door.

Mr. George stood tall and confident, yet he looked so out of place standing beside my mother and father. He was dressed the same as always, a sharp contrast from my parents' clothes, which were much more understated and humble.

He introduced himself to both of them, sternly shaking my father's hand while gently placing a kiss on my mother's hand. He seemed so soft in that moment. He was not the stern, professional man I had grown accustomed to.

He held a vibrant bouquet of red tulips in his left hand, immediately catching my mother's eye. She happily accepted the flowers, and I swear she was blushing as she breezed back to the kitchen to find a vase.

Her reaction to the flowers helped ease the tension in the room. My father seemed pleased that Mr. George hadn't come empty-handed, but he still studied him with intrigue and suspicion.

Earlier today, I explained to my parents that my boss simply wanted to introduce himself to them as a kind gesture from the company for my great work. It sounded strange, I admit, but my parents always loved it when people bragged about me. My father reluctantly agreed, and my mother mainly seemed excited about hosting dinner.

My parents were very simple people. They never complained and were extremely hard workers. They had devoted their lives to one another and to raising me in a safe, warm environment.

Thinking they only knew bits and pieces of my life now was disheartening. When I was a child, I used to tell them everything. They had no idea what Mr. George meant to me or everything we had experienced together. They didn't even know Mr. Ryan existed.

Their perception of my life was so different from reality. I wished I could tell them the truth, but I knew they would never understand.

***

We all gathered around the small dining room table in the kitchen. The tulips were arranged beautifully at the center of the table, surrounded by all kinds of food. My mother told us to dig in; the happiness in her voice was obvious.

Everyone immediately began to fill their plates with mountains of food. Beneath the table, I could feel Mr. George's strong, reassuring hand squeeze my thigh. I smiled at him as I cut up a piece of my chicken.

Small talk filled the air, and my nerves began to ease. Beneath the table, Mr. Georges' hand started to creep up my thigh. My parents were oblivious as they continued discussing the stock market with Mr. George.

My skin burned where he touched me. I wanted more, but knew I had to control myself in this environment. My heart raced uncontrollably as a wave of heat swept through my body.

My thoughts were a mess. A part of me wanted to hold myself together for the sake of my parents. But a large part of me also wanted to drag Mr. George upstairs and do unspeakable things to him.

My mother's voice cut through my fantasies, "Well, I can't tell you how nice it is to have you over for dinner. Alice hasn't stopped talking about you for the past few weeks."

I cringed from embarrassment. But, Mr. George simply said, "It's so lovely to meet you both. Alice has been doing such an amazing job. I know you must be proud of her."

"Oh, that is just so sweet of you to say. We are very proud of our Alice." My mother sighed while touching her heart in her usual dramatic fashion.

My father rolled his eyes at my mother's reaction before focusing on Mr. George.

"So George, do you go to all your employees' homes for dinner?" My father asked Mr. George, his words laced with skepticism.

"I try my best. People need to know their hard work is being recognized." Mr. George replied innocently with his hand still on my thigh.

My father shrugged his shoulders before scarfing down the rest of his dinner. He went to the bar cart and poured himself a scotch before exiting the kitchen.

My father was not the type of man who put up a fight.

"Ignore him, please," My mother said, clearly embarrassed. I could tell she had to raise her voice to compete with the blaring sound of the television from the living room.

"Tell me more about how well Alice is doing at work. We were so worried about her after the breakup..." She trailed off after I gave her an exasperated look. I hated it when she brought up Zac out of nowhere, but it happened often enough that I should have expected it.

Mr. George's hand reassuringly squeezed my thigh again. It was the perfect way to ease my nerves. He seemed so relaxed in this strange situation, and it helped calm my anxiety. His hand was like an anchor to reality.

"Alice has told me a bit about the breakup. I know it was very hard on her." Mr. George responded.

My mother nodded grimly before adding, "Yes, we will never forgive him for what he did to our Alice."

Mr. George cocked his head in my direction, and I could tell he was curious as to what she meant by that. I had never told Mr. George what happened with my ex-boyfriend because we had been so busy with the contract. I knew I needed to get him away from my mother before she revealed anything else.

After finishing our food, I quickly said, "I'm going to give Mr. George a tour." Before any objections could occur, I grabbed his hand and ran upstairs. I felt like a teenager again, shielding my boyfriend from my parents.

I led him to my room, shut the door, and locked it. It was the first time I felt like the one in charge.

Mr. George wasted no time before snooping through my room, as if it were an art exhibit. I obviously wasn't thinking clearly when I dragged him in here. My only goal was to separate him from my mother before she could tell anymore of my secrets.

But now, seeing Mr. George standing in the middle of my childhood bedroom, I was beginning to question my decision.

He poked through my bookshelf, looking at old books I hadn't touched since high school. His eyes scanned the outdated band posters on my walls. He looked amused, but he didn't make any sarcastic comment. For that, I was thankful.

A girl can only take so much embarrassment in one night.

"So," Mr. George said, breaking the silence, "What was your mom talking about down there?"

I knew Mr. George was not going to let that go. But I hoped he would pretend to be clueless for a little bit longer so I could figure out what I would tell him--the truth or the story I told my parents.

Something came over me, and I decided to challenge Mr. George for the first time.

"Why don't you tell me more about you and Mr. Ryan? I feel like I don't know anything about your history."

Master looked at me wide-eyed, and I prepared myself for the worst. I knew he would hate me answering his question with a question.

But all he said was, "Let's play a game instead."

Now, it was my turn to be surprised. A game?

"Truth or dare, you go first," Master said.

"Okay," I giggled. "Truth or dare, Master?"

"Truth," He said with a wink.

I tried to pick the perfect question, knowing I may not get another opportunity like this with Mr. George.

"How did you and Mr. Ryan meet?" I asked.

"He was my roommate in college--all four years," He stated blandly. I instantly regretted my question choice. I don't know why, but I thought he'd elaborate more.

"My turn: truth or dare, Alice?"

I weighed the two options. On one hand, I knew Master would ask me about Zac if I chose truth. But if I chose dare, there was no telling what my Master would make me do. I also had to remember that we were still in my parents' house, so the dare option seemed too risky.

"Truth," I said finally.

"What was your mom talking about at dinner?" Mr. George asked with zero hesitation, except this time I was prepared.

"I lied to her about what happened between my ex and me. I told her that Zac left me for someone else." I explained.

"But, that's not what happened?"

I shook my head.

"Then, what happened?" Mr. George prodded.

"It's not your turn anymore."

"But, now I am even more curious than before," He pleaded. I liked the way Mr. George looked when he was desperate. It was such a rare sight, so I cherished it.

"Maybe if you fuck me, I'd tell you," I say.

Mr. George laughs, "I guess it has been a while, hasn't it?"

Almost two weeks, but who's counting?

Master turned me around so that I was facing away from him, and then he put his heavy hand on my upper back and forced me down onto the bed. He lifted my loose dress over my head, and my body was readily available.

I felt his tongue slip between my thighs, licking me like his life depended on it. The only thing that kept me from losing my mind at that moment was that my parents were downstairs.

Master started to suck on my clit furiously and unapologetically as I began to convulse around his mouth.

"Please, Master," I whisper-sobbed into my sheets that had small roses all over them, "Please let me cum,"

"Please, please, please." I forgot how many times I cried out that word before Master finally responded.

"Cum, baby," Master purred before going right back to sucking on my clit. I only lasted a few seconds after that before I came on Master's face; he stayed between my legs to drink my cum as I squirted everywhere. I felt so close to him in that moment.

Master used my dress to wipe up the cum on my thighs but left my pussy alone. He unzipped his pants, and shortly after, I felt his hard cock press against my pussy lips. I was moaning before he was even inside of me.

It was an unearthly feeling to be fucked after having been empty for so long. Master's cock stretched my insides, and I felt so beautiful as he impaled me with his cock.

Nothing made me feel more worthy than when my Master was fucking me.

When I was pleasuring him with my body.

When his full attention was on my pussy.

"Look at you," Master said, "Such a slut for your Master, what would your parents think?"

He grabbed my hips and started fucking me hard. I began to see stars in my vision, but I continued to thrust back onto his dick with equal force. I was determined to fuck him back for once. He growled and bit my shoulder hard. I moaned into my sheets, hoping the television was still full blast.

Master pulled out of me unexpectedly, and I whimpered as he did. He shushed me as he rubbed my pussy with the tip of his dick. It felt so good, like velvet. I started rocking my hips against his cock.

His tip moved to my asshole, and I tensed.

Master kissed my back from the top of my spine down to my asshole; then he licked my ass eagerly. It felt so foreign but so good at the same time. Like I was experiencing some special secret of the universe. Nobody had ever done that to me before.

"I want you to beg me to fuck your ass," Master commanded me. All I could think about was how I wanted him to keep licking me.

"Please, please, please," I begged my Master. At that point, I wasn't sure what I was asking for; my mind had turned mush.

"Say, please fuck my ass, Master,"

"Please fuck my ass, Master!"

He pushed the tip of his dick into my ass, and I grasped the sheets like my life depended on it.

"Breathe, baby," Master whispered in my ear as he pressed deeper into me. I tried to breathe, but I could only focus on the hot pressure building up below.

Master grabbed my hands from where they had been gripping the sheets and pulled them above my head. He used his hands to keep them in place.

I liked the way that it felt, Master, using his body as bondage to keep me in place.

In one brutal, last push, Master was fully inside my ass. He let me adjust to his massive size for a while. Then he roughly bit my other shoulder, squeezed my hands, and began to fuck my asshole.

I tried my best to be as quiet, but I wasn't sure if I succeeded. Master was fucking my ass harder than he had ever fucked my pussy, and I didn't even know that was possible.

"What would your father think if he knew I was upstairs fucking your ass?"

With one hand, Master continued to pull my hair back like it was the reins of a horse, and with the other, he stuffed his fingers into my mouth. He said I was being too loud.

I sucked on his fingers desperately, trying not to moan. Master continued to shove his huge fingers deeper and deeper down my throat.

"You're such a good slut," Master cooed, "Such a brainless whore, always willing to take my dick, no matter where we are,"

I moaned around his fingers.

"You're my personal cum-dump; all of your holes are mine,"

He picked up my legs and wrapped them around his waist, somehow managing to go deeper inside me.

"Does my good girl want my cum?"

I tried to speak, but it came out as one big mumble.

"I can't hear you, slave," Master teased.

I tried to speak again, but Master only shoved more fingers into my mouth.

Then, he pulled them out for a brief, beautiful second, long enough for me to say, "Yes, Master," and take a deep breath before he shoved his fingers right back down my throat where they belonged.

I felt his hot cum fill my body, and it was so satisfying to have pleased him. I wasn't even worried about my parents at that moment; all that I cared about was my Master, and he was happy with me. Nothing could bring me down.

****

My mother had gone to sleep hours ago, and my father was in his typical drunken state in front of the television when I walked Mr. George out to his car. I was glad my parents were occupied because Mr. George's shirt was half-buttoned, and he was carrying his suit jacket.

"So, you really won't tell me the truth about your ex? I promise I won't tell anyone," Mr. George said when we were a few steps away from his black sports car.

"It's stupid... and embarrassing," I argued, but I knew that Mr. George was not a man who let things go easily, and usually, it was much simpler to let him have his way.

"I love stupid and embarrassing." He argued.

I groaned but said, "Okay, fine. Long story short, Zac wanted to get married and start a family, and I wasn't ready to settle down yet. He gave me an ultimatum and left after my time ran out."

"I told my parents he left me for someone else because I doubt they'd be so sympathetic if they knew the real reason behind the breakup. They are dying for me to get married. My mother would call Zac and try to fix things for me. I didn't want that." I finished.

Mr. George nodded while leaning against the door of his car. He looked so sexy at that moment, with the wind blowing in his hair. I would have let him take me outside for all the neighbors to see. But I could tell he was lost in thought about what I had just told him, and I liked that it seemed like he cared.

After my story, he didn't say another word but kissed me deeply. It took my breath away. It felt like Mr. George and I were the only two people in the whole world.

Zac, my parents, Mr. Ryan, and everyone else faded into the background. All that was left was Mr. George and his beautiful brown eyes.

After that, he got into his car like a special agent, leaving on a secret mission, and sped away down the street. I watched his shiny black car disappear in the distance, knowing I was in much more trouble than I bargained for.