She looked up at me again. Her mascara had run and her face was a mess. She pushed the hair away from her eyes, where it was plastered like a sweaty blindfold. Normally she looked so refined, so effortlessly natural, having spent ages ensuring that she didn’t look like she had made an effort.
And yet right now, despite her disheveled appearance, she still looked beautiful, perhaps more so. But not in the way that those crappy fashion magazines dictated beauty should look. It was what shone through the mess in front of me that was captivating. She didn’t care her lipstick was strewn across her face, there was no thought at all about how she appeared. And yet she was radiant at that moment.
It was what was beneath, what shone through her eyes the drew me to her. There was an intense desire to be pleasing, to satisfy me and give pleasure for no reward. She almost glowed with that desire, content for the moment.
And yet as I looked at her, taking her chin in my hand and tilting her head gently up to face me so I could see that glow in her eyes, I could also see conflict.
She was a proud woman, she would easily dominate the men around her and expected them to follow her direction without hesitation. She hadn’t reached her position without being smart, smarter than the men around her and just as tough. She took no prisoners, ever. And expected no quarter from those she went in to corporate battle with.
Yet here she was, on her knees in front of me, my cum dripping down her chin. Her expensive lingerie, from Paris probably, was torn exposing the soft shapes beneath, the red marks from my fingers slowly receding on the white flesh. And she was kneeling patiently, waiting expectantly for my direction. This was not the business leader anyone else knew. This was not the accomplished public speaker who held audiences in the palm of her hand, playing them like a virtuoso conductor, moving them to her tempo.
And it was there, as I held her still for a moment and let her consider her position after all the distraction of the hectic noise and kinetic energy of my possession, that I saw the conflict flash across her features. She had not had the time to think, she had not been a position to do anything else but be led by me before now.
This was not a moment she had been in control of. She had handed that control away for the first time ever but there had not been the time to let the implications of that act sink in, until now. And as those thoughts percolated through her fuzzy fucked mind, the proud woman inside was reacting, rebelling at giving up control. And yet there was another part of her that yearned to give that control away, absolve herself of all and any responsibility.
So I watched the conflict, the fight between the woman who expected to be pleased and adored by all the men around her and the woman in front of me now whose only thought and desire was to please this one man who stood in front of her.
We both knew this is what she wanted, what she needed deep down, even though she had never fully admitted to me this is what she wanted. She had too much pride to ask, to say out loud what the person inside desired most. And so I had provided that moment for her. I had delivered the momentum that taken her there and she had quietly submitted to me. She had swallowed her pride as surely as she had swallowed my cock all the way to the back of her throat and more.
And now I watched as that pride re-emerged, transformed. A different look, a different intensity lighting up her eyes. The pride of pleasing, of being an instrument of my pleasure and finding comfort in that simple place. I pull her hair tight, tilting her head sharply towards me. Pulling her alert, refocusing her on me and not on those thoughts of who or what she is becoming.
For now I am the conductor and she is my orchestra, my instrument. And she will move to my tempo.
I direct her back to my cock, leading her to its awakening need and she turns her attention away from me. I watch her tongue flick out and taste. Her eyes flicker closed for a moment before she once again raises her eyes to me. She chooses that moment to favour me with a smile. And confirmation. Confirmation that this is where she wants to be and I am the man who she is willing to trust this responsibility to.
I close my eyes as her lips wrap around me again and hope that I am man enough to make her proud.
