Today’s mood: Sucking Duncan’s cock in the back of a limo after some pretentious gala.
A/N: this was literally supposed to be a sentence that turned into a blurb so I apologize if it’s trash.
The cool of his large ‘H’(ermes) belt buckle rubbing against your flush skin as he guides you farther down his length with one hand, an open bottle of Dom in the other. He alternates between drinking directly from the $400 bottle and praising you.
“Mmm, you suck me so fucking good, baby girl”
He takes another sip, reclined arrogantly, watching your head bob up and down between his thighs. Grunting out a groan as your freshly manicured nails dig deeper into his suit pants.
Duncan rolls the partition halfway down. ‘Good Form’ playing on the radio.
“See a bitch get more press than a keypad
Before you suck me off, get a knee pad”
He smirks smugly at the line before bucking his hips up and choking you. You rush to unhinge your jaw, trying to adapt to his big length snaking its way further down your fragile throat.
You gag against him, flattening your tongue, opening so wide you feel your jaw popping. Warm drool trickling down your chin at the fullness of him in your stretched mouth.
There’s no room for anything else in there but Duncan - not even your own saliva.
“Just a little deeper, princess,” he encourages with a sinfully smooth tone while playing with your h/c locks. Using your hair like reigns to guide you up and down, down, down his hard, leaking cock.
The delicious burn is almost too much - the burn of the coarse fibers of the limo floor beneath your knees. The burn of Duncan’s cock ruthlessly fucking into your wet mouth and down your spent throat.
And he loves it. Loves the way you take him, all of him, without complaining. You never do.
“Fuck Y/N. You’re such a good girl,” he praises. Your lips thinned against his thick shaft as he rubs his thumb across your blushing cheek.
The music is loud, but you’re both louder. Duncan becoming more and more vocal as he’s closing in on his release. He encourages you to suck harder. Stroke him faster. Take him in deeper. And you do. Duncan loves bossing you around and you love obeying. Trying to hold back your smile as you can feel him beginning to twitch and come undone.
It only takes a few more pumps of his heated flesh into your mouth and he’s cumming. Holding you down by the messy wad of hair he’s got in both hands, his hips surging up to meet you to assure there’s not an ounce of him that goes wasted. His hot load coating your tongue before oozing its sticky thickness down your throat. His breaths are heavy and erratic. Panting wildly as he slowly guides you off his slick length by your hair.
Duncan makes eye contact with the young driver in the rear view mirror and she immediately looks straight ahead at the road. Ivory bleeding through her knuckles as she grips the steering wheel tightly. Noticeably shifting in her seat uncomfortably, trying to quell her own arousal.
He lets out a cocky laugh and rolls the partition back up.
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