Slipping inside the garage Beth, tiptoed towards the back of the shop. She could hear her husband’s grunt as Randy, one of the mechanics called out to Stephan that he was leaving for the night.
“Yeah, yeah, see you tomorrow Randy. Don’t forget to pick up the part for the Chevy.“
“Will do.” Then the slam of the outside door echoed through the garage.
Rounding the corner, she peeked between a stack of tires leaning precariously to the left. Making sure to not touch the dirty rubber, lest it rub off on her ivory linen suit, she took in the sight of her husband as he hefted another pair of tires up and onto another stack. Shirtless due to the heat, wearing nothing more than pair of work pants and heavy duty work boots, Stephan was the epitome of a man’s man. She always got a secret thrill knowing that her amazing Alpha husband was a closet submissive.
Even the memory of their encounter earlier this morning before she’d sent him off to work was enough to get her engine revving, especially when she noticed the significant bulge straining the fly of his pants. The idea he’d done as she requested sent a surge of lust through her which had her pussy leaking against the fine French lace of her thong. She was tempted to touch herself but that was her slave’s job. When he turned to grab another set of tires, she could no longer resist the temptation to join him, especially when she saw the tattoo stretching between his shoulder blades. Tribal in design with her club name in the center, the ink proclaimed him to be hers. And right this moment she wanted her man.
“Slave, present.” Even as the firm order passed her lips, she relished his reaction. Both tires hit the ground with a thud, before rolling across the concrete. Stephan’s eyes widened in surprise as he glanced around the shop. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was nearing the end of his work hours, but there was a chance of a customer coming in. If he obeyed, he was risking get caught with his pants down, literally or he could refuse and accept the consequences of his refusal. After their last round with punishment, she was kind of surprised he was wavering. A week of his own cooking usually was enough to get him to do whatever she wanted. She let ten seconds pass by as he mentally debated. As always the choice was his but she was getting impatient.
“I didn’t stutter, slave.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Either you do as I asked or accept the consequences, and we both know how much you love those.”
As she suspected, he’d decided that he’d rather take the chance of being caught than risk his tastebuds again so soon on his own cooking. His hands went to his belt and within moments, he stood there in all his glory, his upper body streaked with smears of grease, and lord have mercy, his hard cock jutting out of his nest of dark pubes with his pants around his ankles. Picking her way across the floor, she stopped inches from him, savoring his smell, a unique combination of his aftershave and honest to God sweat. She wouldn’t say anything about the boots this time. The last thing she wanted for him to do was step on something on the shop floor. As long as his package was bare for her touch, she was happy.
“Have you been good today, slave?” She kept her eyes on his as she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was hoarse as he trembled slightly in reaction to her closeness. It thrilled her to no end when he reacted this way to her. She, little Beth Malloy, the girl voted most likely to end up a spinster, had not only caught the baddest bad boy in town, but had managed to keep him.
“And did you do as I asked?”
His chest expanded as she brushed a finger over the tip of his cock, before allowing them to trace down the shaft. She hummed with pleasure when she found the cock ring nestled at it’s base. “Yes, ma’am.” It came out as a croak.
“Good. And how many times have you come today, while I was stuck in boring meetings?” She toyed with the snap on the ring.
His tongue darted out. “I…none, ma’am.”
Narrowing her eyes, she wrapped her hand around him, squeezing tightly. “And I’m to believe that my little sex addict was able to resist the urge to get himself off?”
His eyes darted to the left, his face full of guilt even as he denied it. “Yes, ma’am.”
The horny bastard. She released him and stepped back. An inarticulate mumble ripped free of him. He knew better than to protest as it would get him nowhere fast. “You dare lie to me?”
His gaze returned to her, the plea in it obvious. “No…I…it was an accident. I didn’t mean to, ma’am…”
She sighed. “Explain to me exactly how you didn’t mean to stroke your hand up and down that slab of meat between your thighs until you came.”
He actually whimpered as said ‘slab of meat’ pulsated between his thighs. “I didn’t touch it, honest to god, ma’am. I was under the Chevy trying to replace the fuel line and….” His hands fisted at his side.
“And what? You whipped it out figuring I wouldn’t find out?”
He shook his head. “No ma’am. I…tried to scoot further into place and I brushed up against the warm muffler.” He visible shook, a spurt of pre-cum now dripping from his slit. “It was just after your call, and I was worked up. The sudden heat and pressure against my dick…I lost it.”
“And came in your pants like a randy boy?” Her nipples drew into tighter peaks against her matching bra. She suddenly felt warm in her suit and on the verge of release herself. She hadn’t just teased Stephan with her random calls and texts. And to know she’d gotten him so worked up that the brush of warm muffler against his cock had set him off, made her want to reward him, not punish him.
Forcing herself to talk past the lust clogging her throat, she set her purse on the work bench. “It seems to me that you’re one orgasm ahead of me, slave.”
“Yes, ma’am…” His nostrils flared when she reached up and under her skirt, hooking the edge of her panties. Sliding them down her legs, she took them off one leg at a time before straightening up.
“Well, does that seem fair to you?” She folded the panties into a neat little square before tucking them into her purse, knowing he was watching every movement with hungry eyes.
“I…no ma’am.” His eyes jerked back to her.
Keeping her face composed was difficult but she managed as the next words slipped from her mouth. “Then I suggest you pull up those britches and get over here and even things up.”
It was almost comical to watch as he jerked his pants up, but her lust had pushed any humor she’d have found in the situation to the back burner. Easing her skirt up, she lifted on leg to prop it on the small shelf beneath the counter, exposing her wet pussy to him. As he sank to his knees in front of her, reaching for her, she had to force herself to stop him. “No hands, slave. I don’t want to see a smudge of grease on this outfit or a week of cooking will be the least of your worries.”
He froze before linking his hands behind him. “Yes, ma’am. “ He inhaled his nose nuzzling the flesh above her stockings.
“Good boy, now eat me.” She ordered softly after grabbing the counter with one hand. A muffled cry escaped her as his tongue hot and probing slid between her swollen labia to find her clit. Hissing as he attacked the little nubbin, she gushed more liquid as she teetered on the edge of coming. It was always like this. She had no control when his tongue came anywhere near her pussy. One of the many reason she loved her slave. He ate pussy like no other man she’d ever met.
“Not yet, slave…not yet…” Jerking back a bit as the intensity increased and wanting to prolong the encounter, she tried to escape the firm lash of his tongue.
“Stephan!” The scream escaped her, when he growled his displeasure and wrapped his hands around her upper thighs to pull her back against his face. The unexpected aggression from him, sent her over the edge. Sharp, womb tingling pleasure shot through her as her clit throbbed and her orgasm broadsided her. The sound of his lapping filled the garage until in desperation she pushed at his head. “That’s enough…” She groaned as he refused to let up on her clit, sending another gut clenching wave of pleasure. When it finally ebbed, she buried her hand in his hair, tugging hard as she swayed on her feet. “I said that’s more than enough, dammit.”
His blue eyes glazed with pleasure stared back up at her, as he licked at the remnants of her juices. A quirky grin tugged up one corner of his swollen lips. “One would think it was just enough, ma’am, considering where we are.”
For a split second, she thought about disciplining him, but the humor of the situation hit her. Here she was standing in the middle of her husband’s garage chastising him because he made her come too hard. “Point taken, slave.” She leaned down and kissed him, savoring her flavor on his mouth. “Now get up, so I can take you home and ride that hard cock of yours.”
He scrambled to his feet. “Yes, ma’am” She watched as he scrambled to shut up the shop. Oh yes, he was hers.
©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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