Chapter 8
"Angel," he called to her from across the room. He'd taken to calling her that lately.
"Yes, Stud," she replied without looking up from her laptop. She was sitting at his counter reading.
"When you're done with that article."
He didn't have to say what he wanted after she was done reading. He might not even know exactly. He just wanted her. He called her 'angel' because, he said, her skill and devotion had moved well beyond slave level. She could read his mind, it seemed, and anticipate pleasures he hadn't thought of yet himself.
"But I still want to be your slave," she'd countered.
"Part of being an angel is knowing when to be a slave."
She liked that. Now she had freedom even beyond what she'd thought of as total freedom. Now she could even be free to give up her freedom.
While she was finishing the article she undid her blouse and bra and tossed them in his direction. She took a hair band from her bag to tie her hair back. She thought he would enjoy a full view of her face. She knew what she wanted to do with him and hoped he would let her. And she wanted to offer him her gift while performing that service.
It took extra concentration to finish the article, a preprint. The authors were a bit sloppy with their math; they'd clearly hurried the report through publication. And her preparations were making her wet. She finally closed her laptop, took her cosmetics kit out of her purse, and went over to him. Kneeling between his legs she said, "Is there any special pleasure I can give you?" These days she reserved her slave talk for special moments.
He put down his phone. "Hmm . . ."
She let him watch her brush some blush on her cheeks. Then a little bit of eyeliner, totally unnecessary, just to keep showing him how she was making her face even prettier for him. She fished out a selection of lip glosses, made a show of contemplating them, and finally selected a bright, shiny candy apply red that Mirei had encouraged her to get. Very appropriate. And prepared her lips for him.
He looked down at his crotch.
"Just what I was thinking." She pulled off his sweatpants and took his cock and balls in her hands. She lightly diddled his glans with the tip of her tongue. It always made him twist and twitch. And got him stiff in no time.
"So what was the paper you were reading?"
"Magnetars. They found a new one."
"Can't have too many magnetars."
She was about to really start doing him, but had to giggle a bit at that. "I'll need to get their full data tomorrow. We've been waiting for it. This one's only a few thousand parsecs away. Super close. Doesn't seem to fit the models, but we're working on a new one. Results are still coming in from other sites."
Then she proceeded to suck him with extra passion, keeping in her mind the offer she was going to make and for which she wanted him as receptive as possible.
"Ah. Ah. You're really—" He was already having trouble talking.
"I know." She sucked him a little closer to the edge. "I want to offer you a special gift."
"Every minute with you is a special gift."
That was a trite answer, for which he needed to be punished. As an angel she had the prerogative and power to punish him when necessary; being an angel she had the delightful duty to punish him any way she saw fit; because she was
his
angel the punishment was always to drive him insane with erotic desire, to use her sweet red lips and luscious tongue to torment him with unbearable pleasure for longer than he thought he could take.
She paused to let him recover. "Extra special gift," she said. She put her lips on his tip. He knew better than to reply. "Which I will offer to you just before I make you come." Some licking. "And after a suitable period of torture has rendered you compliant to my offer."
"Is this the reason for the extra orgasm you gave me this morning?"
She gave him the most beatific smile she could display and batted her eyelashes way longer than necessary to show he was on target. She'd awakened him in his favorite way, then rode him the way he liked, coming theatrically while he watched to show him how wonderful his cock made her feel, then made him come in his favorite way. Then before he'd fully recovered made him come again. "And because I enjoy it."
Then his torture began in earnest. He took it like a man. He writhed and groaned and grabbed her hair, twisted her nipples, ran his fingers all over her face. But didn't succumb to her sucking. The two morning orgasms helped. Still she always admired how much he could take.
She gave him a respite eventually, understanding the state she'd put him in. She always wanted to drive him to the point where the pleasure seemed endless, no past before the pleasure, no sight of daylight at the end of the pleasure tunnel. "Isn't there a question you would like to ask me?"
He panted and shivered. She wasn't sucking, but she was lightly tickling his balls and blowing on his tip, about all he could take right now. It didn't help his concentration. But he sat up, took a breath, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked at her. What a stud. "You mentioned a gift. I hope you understand that right now it's hard for me to imagine anything better than what you're giving me right now, but . . ."
She waited, her lips on his tip.
"You are endlessly creative and extremely smart, so . . ."
Keeping her eyes on his, she very, very lightly slid her lips, open as wide as possible, down his cock. Nothing in her mouth touched him but the circle of her lips, with the minimum graze possible that let him feel his cock was going in and out of her. His whole body was vibrating, as if he were a crystal wine glass and she was rubbing the rim.
