"God fucking damnit! I'm so fucking sick of this place! Fuck!"
The counselor side of me piques its curiosity as I hear someone screaming these expletives followed by loud thuds and crashing like things being thrown. Wait... I recognize that voice. Ugh it's Punk. Do I intervene? Or do I let him throw his little hissy fit and pretend I heard nothing? 'Stop it, May! Do your job! Plus, he's probably packing in those tight little speedo things! Go out there!' I mentally prepare myself before I open my office door as quietly as possible.
When I reach Punk he's leaned up against the wall. Facing it, with his hands in fists against the concrete. Heavy, punched breaths being expelled from his lungs. He's in his ring gear, hands wrapped and all. I can physically see all of his tension and stress balled up in his shoulders, neck and upper back in the way he slouches against the wall. I approach gently so as not to scare him.
"Punk? You okay?" I place my hand on his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch.
"No, May. Do I fucking look like I'm okay? No, I'm not fucking okay." He doesn't even look at me.
"Come on, Punk. Come in my office. We can talk about it." He tenses up, so I backtrack a bit. "Or not. We don't have to talk. Just come sit with me. Cool off a bit. Does that sound good?"
I hope he agrees. I get very nervous when these guys get angry with me. It's pretty intimidating. Anyway, he looks up at me like he's sizing me up; deciding if I'm being sincere or not. I extend my hand to him. Amazingly, he takes it in his own and laces our fingers. I have to try extremely hard to not be affected by that small but immensely sweet gesture.
Once in my office, he takes a seat in front of my desk and lets out a shaky, nervous breath as he looks around the room. I smooth my skirt out as I take my own seat behind the desk and continue the paperwork I was doing before I heard his outburst.
"I just hate all the politics." He speaks so suddenly and quietly I almost missed it.
"What politics, Punk? Talk to me." I turn my full attention to him; not wanting to waste this breakthrough moment.
"All of it! I've been denied title shot after title shot! Why? Because I'm not 'roided out and I'm not fucking the billion dollar princess! More like the buck 50 pornstar, but ya know. Like I'm so tired of it! John fucking Cena gets everything he wants! I almost died 6 months ago from a god damn staph infection! They don't even care! Fuck this place!"
I reach my hand out again. Hoping the touch calms him, even just a little. Luckily, it does.
"I'm sorry Punk. That's really fucking shitty of them. That's not right. Come on, this is good though, Punk. Talk to me."
We make real eye contact for the first time since he sat down in my office and he gives me his sexy little half smile thing. I have to mentally chastise myself because my stomach turns and my pussy twitches. He really is a sexy motherfucker when I really get a good look at him. Oh I bet that lip ring will feel good against my wetness! I've got to find out!
Before I know it, his lips press against mine; slowly, hesitant. So, I up the pressure and graze my teeth along his bottom lip. With that, he turns the intensity allllllll the way up and we're now involved in a dirty, raunchy game of tongue twister. He places his right flat palm against the left side of my face, and his right hand squeezes my hip. I moan against his mouth and he spanks me square on the ass.
Then, he's pulling away. While I catch my breath, he sits back in the chair, slips his speedo off and puts his feet up on my desk. As I'm getting myself together, he starts to stroke himself. God, he's even bigger than I imagined!
"Well? This cock ain't gonna suck itself!" He's NOT a patient person. I start to walk around my desk thinking he wants me on my knees before him.
"Stay behind the desk! I wanna watch you work for this piece of meat. I want you to strain for it. Grunt and moan for this cock. Reach for it. You don't get it easily. Earn this dick!"
So I go back behind my desk, stand right up against it and bend at the waist; waiting for him to scoot up and feed me the D. Finally, he's in position and he grabs my ponytail and brings me down to his rod. He bitchslaps me with it a few times before he actually puts it in my mouth. Once it's in though, he's brutal and unforgiving in his thrusts down my throat. It's one of the hottest things I've ever been through.
Then, by my hair, he leads me around the desk so I'm now standing in front of him.
"Get on your knees where you belong, slut!" He 'helps' me to my knees by shoving my shoulder.
At this point, he's got a perfect view of my large tits. They're only covered by a hot pink sports bra and a stretched white beater/tank top.
"Mm gonna make you wear my cum you dirty whore! Spray it all over those tits! Get it in your bra and everything. Now, you'll have a reminder of our little 'counseling session' all day." He strokes himself fast and hard while he talks down to me.
His cock is so red it's almost purple. The head bulges with every upstroke of his right hand. My mouth waters as I watch him jerking off, unable to do a damn thing about it. Then, it happens. He points his cock downward right in between my tits and he covers them. At least 5 maybe 6 shots of cum slides down the valley between my breasts. I feel it pooling underneath them; soaking the material of my bra. Then, he scoops it out of the bra and smears it all over the orbs. Literally covering my tits in his release.
"Take off your pants. Do it now." He speaks calmly but I know that if I don't listen, there will be Hell to pay. So I scramble to get them off as fast as I can and get myself back on my knees for him.
"Spread 'em. Let me see that slutty pussy." I oblige; quickly opening my knees as fast as I can as far as I can.
"Like this, Punk?" Before I even have a chance to comprehend what's happening, my upper body is in Punks lap. His cock down my throat and his flat palm cracks me sharply on the ass. He crouches low and whispers menacingly in my ear.
"What's my name?" I know 'Punk' is not the right answer.
"Sir?" I question more than state once he pulls me off his fat rod.
"That's a good little slut." He pats me on the head like a dog. It takes every inch of self control I have to not roll my eyes or make some snarky comment towards him.
"Now, back to this pussy. Spread 'em again. Yeahhhh that's real nice. Now lean back so you're really exposed. Oh fuck yeah show Punk that slutty dirty pink pussy. Yeah, you wanna touch it, don't you you little slut? I bet you do. But you can't! Why not? Because I fucking own you! I tell you when you can and can't touch. Isn't that right, my sweet precious play thing?"
I nod, not wanting to upset him with speaking out of turn. It feels like hours that I'm baring myself to him like this. He just keeps moaning and stroking his dick. I have no idea what he's even thinking.
"Squeeze that clit, baby! Thumb and index finger. Pinch the shit out of that soaking wet cum button. Yeahhh hear it squelch because my dirty little whore has pre-cummed all over herself, hasn't she?"
With the chastising tone he's using and the pressure I'm putting on my clit, my back arches and my head rolls back. My breathing intensifies. I'm so close yet I know I'm so far from my release.
All of a sudden, there's a wet snap in the air and a sharp sting to my pussy; mainly the already tender clit I'm still holding between my fingers. My only reaction is to (subconsciously) wrap my legs around whatever brought me that split second of intense pleasurable pain and grind on it. My hips going a mile a minute before the object is ripped from my grasp. Only to return and snap my wet snatch 3 or 4 more times in a row.
Once my pussy is good and sore and slightly raw, he pulls me by the hair so I'm standing. Then, the words I've been waiting to hear for hours now.
"Ride me. Get that slutty, soaking wet pussy all over my fat cock. Come on. I know you can do that." So I straddle him, open my pussy lips up even more, and slam down on his rod in one swift, breath taking, moment.
The fire growing between my legs is competing with the one in my loins that's urging me to cum. I can't listen to them both. I keep riding until the moans pouring from my mouth turn more distressed. He's so deep in me this way. This continues for such a long time that I don't think I can control my orgasm. My body trembles and my speed on Punk's cock intensifies. Then, he pulls my hair all the way back; and he speaks to me. It takes me a second to gather all my faculties and hear what he has to say.
"You dirty little slut. You think I'm gonna let you cum that quick? HA! Fuck that! Hold that shit! You better fucking hold it!
I do my very best, but the pleasure is so intense. I'm dropping into subspace quickly, rapidly. My brain is turned to mush. My body weakening. I vaguely feel my release flow down between my legs soaking Punk's lap with it.
My body starts to convulse a bit and I feel Punk release his thick cock from my now slack body. Then, he wraps me in his arms. Coddling me like a child. Gently swaying back and forth. So much is going through my mind, but I'm so disconnected from my body still that I'm not even sure if I've blinked in the last ten minutes. Fuck he's good!
"Come back to me, baby. Come on. It's okay, love. Come on back to me." He's rubbing my back now. My brain screaming 'I'm trying!' It takes a few more slow soft minutes of his voice before I raise my head and look at him; blinking rapidly to focus myself.
"Are you with me?" He smiles.
"Yeah. I'm here, Punk. God damn I had no idea you could fuck like that!" He lets out a loud, genuine belly laugh.
"Thank you for bringing that out of me. I needed that." He's being so sincere. This was a major breakthrough moment for me.
"Anytime, Punk. Anytime."