Ulysses and Sophia, part eight
Sophia didn’t stop. Even as the final heavy pulses of his orgasm subsided, she kept her mouth sealed tight around him, her tongue continuing to lash against the hypersensitive underside of his glans. Her teeth grazed the softening skin of his shaft, scraping lightly with every pull back, sending sharp, jolting reminders of her presence through his nervous system. Her dark hair spilled over his thighs, tickling his balls and creating a tangled, heated friction against his skin. Wet, slipping noises filled the room, the sound of her relentless suction echoing off the dark green laminate walls. Ulysses gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily as the overstimulation bordered on pain, his body trying to retreat from the intensity while his wrists remained bound to the coat rack. She worked him until his cock was utterly lifeless, a limp weight resting on her tongue, drained of every ounce of tension and rigidity.
Only then did she pull away, releasing him with a loud, wet pop. Sophia arched her neck, opening her mouth wide and positioning her lips directly beneath the head of his softening member. She looked up at him, her eyes locking onto his as she wrapped her fingers around the base. With a deliberate, squeezing motion, she slid her thumb and fingers upward, milking the length of his urethra. A small, translucent spurt of watery semen dribbled out, landing on her tongue. She squeezed again, dragging another weak spurt from him, then a third, fourth, and fifth. The fluid was thin and clear, a stark contrast to the heavy load he had released moments before. She attempted a sixth squeeze, her hand working rhythmically, but nothing remained; he was completely empty.
Sophia swallowed, then licked her lips, savoring the taste. She looked up at Ulysses, a playful smirk curving her mouth. "Mmm," she hummed, her voice husky. "You taste like cream pasta and Ramen noodles. See for yourself." She reached up, grabbing his face with both hands, her nails digging gently into his cheeks, and slammed her lips against his. The kiss was aggressive and passionate, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth to share the lingering, salty flavor. Ulysses groaned into her mouth, his head spinning as he tasted himself on her tongue. They turned their heads in unison, noses brushing to allow for deep breaths through their nostrils, the kiss stretching on for a full minute, a tangled exchange of fluids and dominance.
When she finally pulled back, a string of saliva connecting them briefly before snapping, Sophia’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Do you want me to kiss your sore, spanked bottom all better?" she asked, her tone dripping with condescending sweetness.
Ulysses gasped, his breath hitching in his throat. The mere mention of his bruised buttocks sent a throb of residual pain through him. Sophia laughed at his reaction, a throaty, amused sound. She tilted her head, waiting. "Well?" she pressed.
"Yes, ma'am," Ulysses whispered, his voice cracking.
Sophia’s eyebrows shot up, and a look of triumph flashed in her eyes. She struggled to contain her delight, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. She turned to the coat rack, her fingers working quickly to untie the knots binding his wrists. Once free, Ulysses rubbed his wrists, the circulation returning with a tingling rush. Sophia didn’t give him time to recover. She took him by the shoulders and guided him forward, bending him over her sturdy desk. The cool laminate pressed against his chest, but his attention was entirely on the exposure of his backside.
He felt the rush of air before he heard her. Sophia pursed her lips and blew a stream of cool air directly onto his bruised and swollen buttocks. Ulysses shivered violently, the chill contrasting sharply with the burning heat of his punished skin. She held the pose for a minute, letting the air wash over him, watching the gooseflesh rise on his thighs.
Then, the sensation changed. Warm, soft lips pressed against his left cheek. Sophia kissed him passionately, her mouth lingering for ten long seconds, sucking gently on the bruised flesh. She moved to the right cheek, delivering the same intense, wet pressure. Ulysses moaned into the desk, his fingers gripping the edges of the wood. After the long kisses, she began a systematic assault of affection, planting rapid, one-second pecks across every available inch of his skin. She covered the purple bruises, the sensitive crease where his thigh met his cheek, and the center of his swell, ensuring no spot was left un-kissed.
Leaning over him, Sophia pressed her clothed body against his back. Ulysses could feel the weight of her breasts, even through the material of her black silk jacket and pants. The sensation was grounding and overwhelming all at once. "Does that feel good, baby?" she murmured into his ear.
"Yes, Sophia," he breathed, his voice muffled by the desk.
"Good," she said. She gripped his arms and hauled him upright, then spun him around. Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him backward. "Back up. About three and a half feet."
Ulysses shuffled back, his boots scuffing slightly against the plush pink wool rug, until he stood where she directed. Sophia turned her back to him, standing near the edge of the desk. She reached for the waistband of her black silk pants. The fabric whispered as she slid them down her legs, stepping out of them gracefully. Next, she shrugged off the matching black silk jacket. The material had been designed to absorb sweat and create a pocket of cool air, but now it was just a pile on the floor.
Ulysses gasped, his eyes widening. Standing before him in just her top and underwear, Sophia was a vision of contrast. Her panties were bubblegum pink, covered in tiny yellow stars—a childish, playful print that looked absurdly erotic on his dominant boss. The gasp tore from his throat again when she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slid the panties down, revealing her smooth, plump, olive-skinned buttocks. Her Greek heritage was undeniable in the curve of her hips and the perfect, peach-like shape of her ass.
She kicked the panties away and looked back over her shoulder, a challenge in her eyes. "Now it’s time for you to return the favor, baby!"
Ulysses’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He stared at her, his brain short-circuiting. He twitched, his feet shuffling nervously, but he didn't move. For ten agonizing seconds, he remained frozen, caught between shock and overwhelming desire.
Sophia wiggled her butt at him, the cheeks jiggling slightly. "What’s the matter, honey? Aren't you man enough to kiss a lady's ass?" she teased, her voice laced with mock pity.
The taunt hit its mark. Ulysses’s expression hardened into a frown, and an impulse took over, overriding his hesitation. He dropped to his knees on the wool rug. He took two deep breaths, inhaling her scent—lavender and musk mixed with the natural smell of her skin. The aroma made him tremble. He leaned forward and pressed his face into her behind.
He started with her left cheek, kissing her with the same passion she had shown him, his lips pressing firmly against her soft, olive skin for ten seconds. He moved to the right cheek, matching the duration and intensity, his hands coming up to rest on the backs of her thighs. Then, just as she had done to him, he began the pecks. He covered her ass in rapid, one-second kisses, worshipping every inch of her smooth, cool skin, proving his devotion with every press of his lips.
Only then did she pull away, releasing him with a loud, wet pop. Sophia arched her neck, opening her mouth wide and positioning her lips directly beneath the head of his softening member. She looked up at him, her eyes locking onto his as she wrapped her fingers around the base. With a deliberate, squeezing motion, she slid her thumb and fingers upward, milking the length of his urethra. A small, translucent spurt of watery semen dribbled out, landing on her tongue. She squeezed again, dragging another weak spurt from him, then a third, fourth, and fifth. The fluid was thin and clear, a stark contrast to the heavy load he had released moments before. She attempted a sixth squeeze, her hand working rhythmically, but nothing remained; he was completely empty.
Sophia swallowed, then licked her lips, savoring the taste. She looked up at Ulysses, a playful smirk curving her mouth. "Mmm," she hummed, her voice husky. "You taste like cream pasta and Ramen noodles. See for yourself." She reached up, grabbing his face with both hands, her nails digging gently into his cheeks, and slammed her lips against his. The kiss was aggressive and passionate, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth to share the lingering, salty flavor. Ulysses groaned into her mouth, his head spinning as he tasted himself on her tongue. They turned their heads in unison, noses brushing to allow for deep breaths through their nostrils, the kiss stretching on for a full minute, a tangled exchange of fluids and dominance.
When she finally pulled back, a string of saliva connecting them briefly before snapping, Sophia’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Do you want me to kiss your sore, spanked bottom all better?" she asked, her tone dripping with condescending sweetness.
Ulysses gasped, his breath hitching in his throat. The mere mention of his bruised buttocks sent a throb of residual pain through him. Sophia laughed at his reaction, a throaty, amused sound. She tilted her head, waiting. "Well?" she pressed.
"Yes, ma'am," Ulysses whispered, his voice cracking.
Sophia’s eyebrows shot up, and a look of triumph flashed in her eyes. She struggled to contain her delight, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. She turned to the coat rack, her fingers working quickly to untie the knots binding his wrists. Once free, Ulysses rubbed his wrists, the circulation returning with a tingling rush. Sophia didn’t give him time to recover. She took him by the shoulders and guided him forward, bending him over her sturdy desk. The cool laminate pressed against his chest, but his attention was entirely on the exposure of his backside.
He felt the rush of air before he heard her. Sophia pursed her lips and blew a stream of cool air directly onto his bruised and swollen buttocks. Ulysses shivered violently, the chill contrasting sharply with the burning heat of his punished skin. She held the pose for a minute, letting the air wash over him, watching the gooseflesh rise on his thighs.
Then, the sensation changed. Warm, soft lips pressed against his left cheek. Sophia kissed him passionately, her mouth lingering for ten long seconds, sucking gently on the bruised flesh. She moved to the right cheek, delivering the same intense, wet pressure. Ulysses moaned into the desk, his fingers gripping the edges of the wood. After the long kisses, she began a systematic assault of affection, planting rapid, one-second pecks across every available inch of his skin. She covered the purple bruises, the sensitive crease where his thigh met his cheek, and the center of his swell, ensuring no spot was left un-kissed.
Leaning over him, Sophia pressed her clothed body against his back. Ulysses could feel the weight of her breasts, even through the material of her black silk jacket and pants. The sensation was grounding and overwhelming all at once. "Does that feel good, baby?" she murmured into his ear.
"Yes, Sophia," he breathed, his voice muffled by the desk.
"Good," she said. She gripped his arms and hauled him upright, then spun him around. Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him backward. "Back up. About three and a half feet."
Ulysses shuffled back, his boots scuffing slightly against the plush pink wool rug, until he stood where she directed. Sophia turned her back to him, standing near the edge of the desk. She reached for the waistband of her black silk pants. The fabric whispered as she slid them down her legs, stepping out of them gracefully. Next, she shrugged off the matching black silk jacket. The material had been designed to absorb sweat and create a pocket of cool air, but now it was just a pile on the floor.
Ulysses gasped, his eyes widening. Standing before him in just her top and underwear, Sophia was a vision of contrast. Her panties were bubblegum pink, covered in tiny yellow stars—a childish, playful print that looked absurdly erotic on his dominant boss. The gasp tore from his throat again when she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slid the panties down, revealing her smooth, plump, olive-skinned buttocks. Her Greek heritage was undeniable in the curve of her hips and the perfect, peach-like shape of her ass.
She kicked the panties away and looked back over her shoulder, a challenge in her eyes. "Now it’s time for you to return the favor, baby!"
Ulysses’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He stared at her, his brain short-circuiting. He twitched, his feet shuffling nervously, but he didn't move. For ten agonizing seconds, he remained frozen, caught between shock and overwhelming desire.
Sophia wiggled her butt at him, the cheeks jiggling slightly. "What’s the matter, honey? Aren't you man enough to kiss a lady's ass?" she teased, her voice laced with mock pity.
The taunt hit its mark. Ulysses’s expression hardened into a frown, and an impulse took over, overriding his hesitation. He dropped to his knees on the wool rug. He took two deep breaths, inhaling her scent—lavender and musk mixed with the natural smell of her skin. The aroma made him tremble. He leaned forward and pressed his face into her behind.
He started with her left cheek, kissing her with the same passion she had shown him, his lips pressing firmly against her soft, olive skin for ten seconds. He moved to the right cheek, matching the duration and intensity, his hands coming up to rest on the backs of her thighs. Then, just as she had done to him, he began the pecks. He covered her ass in rapid, one-second kisses, worshipping every inch of her smooth, cool skin, proving his devotion with every press of his lips.
31-35, M