Red Confession: Kneeling for My Alpha’s Burning Load

Monday evening, past 7 PM. Upscale residence living room. Slouched on the leather couch, heart pounding already. Two hours of waiting, TV droning nonsense. Then his car engine growls in the driveway. My man. My alpha. Early fifties, tall, commanding. Suit crisp, tie choking him. Divorced, done with women’s games. He wanted a hole to own. Simple. Me. Slim Antillean twink, shy student. Lucky bitch.

Door swings open. Fatigue drags his steps. Briefcase drops. Coat slung. Eyes hard, jaw tight. Cravat loosens with a grimace. No words. I know. Rise slow. Light outfit hugs me—tight tee, white boxer riding low. He towers. My pulse hammers. Kneel fast as he turns. Surprise flickers in his stare. Shouldn’t. Knows I’m his eager slut.

The Fever

Hand grazes his crotch. Heat throbs. Face buries in. Kiss fabric. Zipper rasps down. Boxers shoved. Cock springs free. Thick. Proud. Veins pulsing. Half-hard already. My doing? Or his stress boiling? Mouth engulfs. Eyes lock up at him. Hands grip thighs—powerful under wool. Lips seal tight. Tongue swirls shaft. Suck deep. Gland pops in. Saliva coats.

‘Doucement.’ First word. Too eager. Hand clamps nape. Shoves deep. Pubes tickle nose. Holds. Breath cuts. Releases slow. Again. Deeper. Rhythm builds. Pulls out. Index lifts chin. Tongue out. Slaps cock on it. Wet smacks. Face. Lips. ‘Petite salope. Love you on knees. Worship my dick.’ Grabs hair. Rams in. Tender now. Slow. Heart races wild. Skin flushes hot.

Stops me. ‘Couch. Wait.’ Stuffs cock away—struggling, raging hard. Wants more. Strips to shirt. Fridge hums. Booze pours. Macho pose. TV news blares. Sprawls. I crawl beside. Ass up, doggy over cushions. Grip softening shaft. Warm. Heavy. Lick tip slow. Savor salt. He pretends TV focus. Lies. Cock swells full. Boxer yanked mid-thigh. Finger traces crack.

‘Fuck, that ass. Push back, slut.’ Electrified. Arch. Offer. Crave his invasion. But no. Pump steady. Palm his hairy gut. Chest fur scratches. Left hand fists hair. Forces deep. Fast. Right slaps ass—stings fire. ‘My whore. Love this cock?’ Mmmph. Yes. Fingers probe. One in. Two. Stretch. Pump ass while throat fucks.

The Blaze

‘Tee off. Floor. Knees.’ Command cracks. Obey. He rises. Cock in fist. Feral gleam. Fingers from my hole—to my mouth. ‘Suck clean.’ Eyes submit. Swallow deep. Taste myself. He strokes furious. Close. Begging eyes. Pushes back. Shoulders down. Heels under ass. Face target. Tests me.

‘Good slut to end.’ Fingers gag me again. ‘Beg my load.’ ‘Want your cum!’ Whisper hoarse. ‘Where?’ ‘My face.’ Gaze holds. Breaks him. Hand cups cheek. Flogs cock. Eyes hood. Taut.

Cock jerks. First rope flies—over head, splats wall. Rest paints me. Scalding jets. Cheeks. Lips. Hair. Gush after gush. Groan encouragement. Final blasts. Shakes drips on tongue. Wipes clean on skin.

Vented. Softens. Kisses hair tender. Gathers clothes. I stumble bathroom. Mirror shock. Face glazed thick. No shame. No pride. Just owned. Wipe slow. Hear him kitchen. Skin still buzzes. Heart slows. Lived it raw.