I was painting. Red on black, dashes of colbalt, melding strangely.
He called me at the studio asking I come back to the main house
Right in the middle of a sweep of colbalt I lift the brush and leave
Wiping my hands on my smock and smoothing my hair as I jog

he never interrupts my painting, odd

I knew he would be there, that library of his, so male, so austere
Throwing my smock on the side table I came up behind him and purred
Chin on his shoulder massaging his neck, my hair tumbled down his chest
All of it off, NOW I stripped flustered and with shaky fingers obeyed

what did I do or not do? How can I make it right? please don’t hurt me

The last piece off and he wrapped his hand and forearm around my hair
He pulled me backward, my hair holding most of the weight of my body
Yelping I grabbed at the hand wrapped like a glove in my hair and he yanked
He lead me to the dining area and as he pulled me to the table I leapt a bit

If I hadnt leapt, the edge would have hit my spine, what is wrong?

He slid me across the mahogany as my head and his hand cleared the table
Seats twelve, this table, he stopped my shoulders at the edge throat exposed

My stemware, what am I going to serve the wine in at dinner?

My head back and my hair playing soft games with the hardwood floors
I dare not move. It has always been hard for me to breath in this position
He knows it and he has chosen to place me this way and then I hear a zipper

He is going to take me right on this table, he is going…

Putting his fingers in my mouth I open to take them in and then his cock
He holds to my breast like handles to keep me in place in my lack of air
Hitting the back of my throat and pressing down my tongue, shoving
Slamming the back of my head into the ornate carving of the table
I grab onto his clothed ass and walk my hips up high towards the chandelier

He is going to fuck me to death I can’t breathe

He knows when my hips rise I am ready to cum but waiting for him to allow
Letting go of my breasts he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me
Wrapping my legs around his neck I concentrate on the rhythm of his cock

I can breath

As some old fashion Karma Sutra pose we walk pussy to mouth cock to throat
I can feel him breathing on my wetness, he knows I cannot concentrate
He knows his breath alone will take me over the edge and beyond
I feel like I have never lived life without the my mouth full of him, the taste
I was never alive until he fucked my mouth and I will never be alive again

His taste is driving me insane I want to swallow his skin and chew on his gristle

As he comes in my mouth his stubbley chin settles in my juices he whispers into my pussy, cum my whore, cum and I cum again

and again and again

Our guests will be coming soon, I have paint and cum all over me. I kiss his mouth
He zips and I hear his boots crunching on my stemware. I have alot to do tonight.

not sure what brought that on but beats painting in colbalt anyday