His To Command

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Brandon was gazing into space, his eyes unfocused, the hint of a smile on his lips. I moved closer and whispered “are you all right?”
“Yes dear, I'm fine,” he replied, “just taking a little break.”
“You looked like you were miles away,” I said.
“You're right, twelve miles, to be exact.”
“And exactly where were you then?”
“Back home, in our bedroom, with you kneeling in front of me, sucking my cock.”

My eyes widened in shock. I was pretty sure no-one could hear, but there were people all around. “What?” I whispered.
“You said if I came to this dinner with you, that you would do whatever I wanted next time. Next time is going to be when we get home, and you are going to do whatever I want.”
It only took a second to decide. “OK,” I whispered.

We were at an industry dinner. I was CEO of a small packaging company, and this was the annual dinner and awards. If that doesn’t sound very exciting, it’s because it wasn’t very exciting. I didn’t come to many of these things, and even fewer did I ask Brandon to come. But this time I was getting an award, small company CEO of the year, so it would have been rude not to attend.

I knew these things bored him, but he did it with good grace, being friendly and charming to everyone. I had noticed a few of the wives looking at him appreciatively, and no wonder. A big, tall man with a thick, black beard looked slightly out of place in a tuxedo, but there was no denying his attractiveness. I allowed myself a moment of smug satisfaction, look all you want, ladies, but I’m the one who’s going to take him home and fuck him.

The evening dragged on. I doubt that my speech was any less boring than the others, but at least I made mine short. I maintained the facade of polite conversation, but my mind kept jumping to what would happen later. I had one more chance to catch Brandon alone. “What’s happening now?” I whispered.

He turned those ice blue eyes on me and replied in a low, but commanding, voice, “You’re bent over the bed, and I’m behind you fucking you hard.” My knees went weak and I could feel my pussy getting wet. That lasted a delicious few seconds before a voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Enjoying the night?” A perfectly acceptable beginning to a social conversation.
“Oh, yes, it’s lovely.” A perfectly acceptable reply. It wasn’t true, of course, but “No, I’m bored silly and I can’t wait to get home so my husband can fuck my brains out,” would have been something of a faux pas.

At last it finished and we could go. Walking to the car, Brandon said “we start now.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Good. You drive.” I took the keys and got in the driver’s seat. He sat beside me. “No talking. I want to concentrate on looking at your body and thinking about what I’m going to do to you.”

I drove carefully. This was not the time to have an accident. Every time I glanced sideways, Brandon was staring at me, sometimes at my face but more often at my breasts. The anticipation was building.

When we stopped at a set of lights Brandon instructed “lift your dress up.” I reached down to gather the skirts and lift them up over my knees. The long dress bunched up at my thighs.

“Higher,” he said. I lifted further, and he looked keenly at my panties. I was sure there must be a damp mark on them from my pussy being so wet. The lights changed and I had to let go to drive the car. “Each stop,” he said. So at each set of lights, I had to quickly stop the car, and then lift up my dress to show him my knickers.

We had tried the obedience idea a few times before, and I had discovered that I loved it. I spent all day being the boss. My staff were good, but they did tend to want me to make all the decisions. That was fine, it was my company and I was responsible, but it was tiring. So it was a lovely contrast to have the opposite, no thinking, no calculating, no responsibility, just do exactly as I was ordered.

And, of course, I knew what sort of orders I would get. At work, I was a woman in a largely male world. I made it clear to everyone that sexism would not be tolerated. Women were to be valued for their skills, not their bodies. But in the right setting, it was hugely arousing to know that there was one man who didn’t care about my authority, my knowledge, my ambition, he just saw me as a hot woman and wanted to fuck me.

When we got home I followed Brandon into the lounge and waited for instructions. He looked me up and down. I was wearing a long evening gown, dark green, low cut. I didn’t have enormous breasts, but big enough to show a bit of cleavage when I wanted to. And that’s where Brandon’s eyes settled.

Then he spoke. “I expect it’s a fantasy that many men have. You see a woman dressed up, classy, elegant, sophisticated. She’s showing off her cleavage, taunting you. And you wish you could just go up to her and fondle her breasts. And now I can.”

He cupped his hands over my breasts. He had a leisurely fondle, feeling for my nipples through the gown and the strapless bra. I stood obediently waiting. After a good feel he said “And in the fantasy, this elegant woman responds by kneeling down, getting your cock out, and giving you a blow job.”

That was a clear hint if ever I heard one. I knelt in front of him. I undid his belt, then the button and zip on his trousers. The bulge in his briefs was impressive, even though he was only half hard. Carefully pulling them down, I exposed his lovely penis. After admiring it for a few seconds, I leaned forwards and took him in my mouth.

He rapidly hardened as I sucked, and soon I had a fully erect penis in my mouth. I could only get about half of it in, so I held the other half with one hand and tickled his balls with the other. “Look up,” he said. I looked up, gazing adoringly into his eyes while I sucked his cock.

I kept sucking him. That was my job until instructed otherwise. Eventually he said “All right, stand up.” I stood up. He took off his clothes, dropping them carelessly on

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Written by Kerry Killeen
Cargado July 22, 2021
Notes Sharon’s work dinner is stunningly boring. She has to pretend to be interested, but her mind is on what happens afterwards, when her husband takes her home and screws her senseless!

Being a female boss in a man’s world can be tiring. You have to maintain your authority, but without being too harsh. You have to make the right decisions, knowing that you’re responsible for everything. So sometimes it’s nice to let go of responsibility, to let someone else take charge, to be HIS TO COMMAND.
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