sued into submission 🌷 tracob

9

smut warning

Troye Sivan

"Sivan, come downstairs, will ya?" Mr Bixenman calls out far too early in the morning. It's maybe what, six am?

I rub my eyes with little fists and climb out of bed in a nightie he lent me. Recalling how impatient he is, I'm quick to check myself over in the mirror for a split-second and practically run down the stairs.

"Hmm?" I hum as I walk around to see the bloke buttoning up his suit.

"You look awful. Are the meds worki- actually I don't care. Down on your knees." He orders, pointing to floor.

My eyes widen considerably, "Wha-?"

"Now, Sivan, I haven't got all day." He grumbles.

I swallow down all confusion and intimidation, sinking down onto my knees in front of him. He unbuttons his trousers and looks down at me expectantly.

"I- Mr Bixenman."

"Christ, Mellet, just get me off and I'll leave you be." He huffs. I nod and tug down his trousers and underwear, revealing the monster in his pants. I gulp, hesitantly wrapping my fingers around him and slowly jerking him off.

"Calm down, you're shaking." He mutters, curling his fingers through my hair.

I bite down on my lip and look up at him bashfully, "I'm sorry, I'm just nervous."

He nods, giving me a break from his stern looks.

"You're fine."

I nod and let go, backing him up into the navy blue couch and nudging him down onto the cushion. He sits back, pulling me with by the hair and looking at me with an alluring yet almost kind look. Odd. I find place right in between his thighs and hold him at the base, dragging my tongue from his base to tip. His breathing hitches and fingers tighten in my curls as I take him in my mouth and wrap my lips around his cock. I flash him a cheeky smile and dip my head down on him, humming against his soft skin dramatically.

"Mm, sp-peed it up kid, I'm gonna be late." Mr Bixenman utters, bucking his hips up and forcing more of himself down my throat. I hum in response and do my best to mimic what I've watched other porn stars do over the years.

My throat lets out awfully obscene noises as I fit as much of him down my throat as possible, saliva spilling past my lips and down my chin. He pulls at my hair as I attempt to swallow around him, gagging and pulling away in seconds. I let out a few hoarse coughs and sputter for air. Jacob simply watches and stands back up.

"Slack your jaw." He rasps out and lets his fingers go loose in my hair.

I do as told and hold my mouth open.

"Pat on my leg if you need a break for air."

I nod and hold out my tongue as he slides himself against my tongue. I wrap my lips back around him and hold onto his hips as he takes my face in his hands and begins thrusting away in my mouth. This is the closest we've ever been. I've never touched Jacob Bixenman's hips before, let alone given him a blowjob.

When I do end up choking around his dick again, he grunts and looks down at me. I bob my head down on him through the burning sensation and silently tell him to keep going. He breathes out heavily and continues fucking my mouth until he's nearly on the brink of coming. Me, I'm a blubbering mess, with glossed over eyes and saliva mixed with Jacob's precome spilt around my lips and down my chin. I give it my all though and try to make his orgasm memorable. I then meet him with every thrust and cry out against his pulsing cock, making him groan out a string of curse words. Taking me by surprise, he comes without warning and continues bucking his hips sloppily. I give up then and slowly run my tongue up and down his shaft as he rides out his high.

Once he's finished and his breathing has began to regulate, he pulls out and pulls his trousers back up. I scrunch my nose up at the mess of come all in my mouth and reluctantly swallow it all up. Surely I'd be looked down upon if I spat it up.

Mr Bixenman pets my hair and steps around me, readjusting his suit jacket in the mirror. I stand up on wobbly knees and walk behind him, watching him fix the subtle flaws that would let others know what he's been up to.

"I'll be back later, if the housekeeper stops by today tell her you're busy having a quarter life crisis or something. Give her a day off." He mutters, adjusting his tie and giving me a charming smile in the mirror.

I nod and exchange him a shy smile back in return. And with that, he grabs his keys and wallet and heads out, not uttering another word. Me, I make my way back to bed and have just as he said, a quarter life crisis. Or maybe just a crisis. Maybe just a mental breakdown over the thought that I just blew off my ex-boss in his living room.

Lord help me, what have I gotten myself into?

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a/n: i wrote this while high as fadoodle lmao gang gang