Yes, Mr Allen - Chapter 1 - Sex Stories

Yes, Mr Allen - Chapter 1

... little problem I need you to solve down there.”

His extended finger, containing more testosterone than your entire body, pointed down at his stained shoes. With another finger point, he drew your attention and commanded you over to the sleek cabinet that stood against the far wall of the office. You opened it and found a shoe-shine kit within. He snapped his fingers and you returned to his desk. Staring into your eyes, forcing you to avert your gaze in a failed test of manliness, he gave you silent instructions. Kneeling onto the spotless carpet, you placed the box at his feet, where he placed the first loafer.

Your wife looked in absolute awe at Mr Allen. Without even a single word, he had stripped you entirely of your dignity and reduced you to an insect before him. She had never even dared to dream that such a man as he existed. He caught her longing stare and smiled - her husband was at his feet, polishing his shoes, and she wanted nothing more than to satisfy his every craving for her body. “Keep your eyes on my loafers, and don’t you dare raise them!”

“Yes, Sir!” you replied, snapping into an even greater display of submission.

Buffing and cleaning the leather, you were so focused on his footwear that you barely registered the sound of his pants unzipping. Should you have looked up, a penis large enough to block out the sun would have bulged above you. However, that was not for your benefit but your wife’s. Over the sound of your frenzied shining, you could ...

... not hear your wife lower her eager mouth onto the tip of that gargantuan dick. Sucking and slurping, she took as many inches as her throat could handle - she barely even grazed the midsection. Eyes rolling back into her head, she allowed the experience of worshiping a superior man to overwhelm her.

Barely skipping a beat, Mr Allen offered his other loafer to your busy hands. Back and forth, his cock and his shoes were shined by a couple whose lives he had decided to control. Grasping your wife’s perfect hair, snow-like in his dark hands, he forced her deep enough to choke as he unloaded a gallon of thick, creamy sperm into her willing body. She giggled and gasped as he allowed her to return for air, a long string of cum falling from her lips and landing on her boot.

“I think your wife’s shoes need some attention too,” Mr Allen said, withdrawing his foot as he zipped his pants closed again. “Show her the respect she deserves from her husband.”

“The brush will spoil the leather. It needs something softer. Like a tongue?” she added. Your wife giggled again, overcome by an extreme horniness and excitement. She hadn’t felt this way since college, when she was experimenting with the football team. “Don’t worry, honey, it’s only cream.”

Hesitant, you stared at the white goo trickling down the shaft of her boot to the toe. This was so humiliating, and the pressure from the two of them looking down at you made you shudder with anxiety. You opened your mouth, feeling them ...