Chapter 7 Ejaculating in Jenny's Mouth!
Jenny's anger was palpable and immediate. Her voice, barely above a whisper, was laced with a venomous tone. "You pervert, don't even dare to dream about it!" she spat out. Her brows furrowed in disgust as she attempted to push me away.
However, I was quick to seize control of the situation. My grip tightened around her hair, her head now under my command, and I forced her to kneel before me. With a swift motion, I inserted my large throbbing cock into her mouth.
A low, guttural growl escaped my lips. "Oh!" The sensation was exquisite, her small mouth tightly enveloping me. It was as if I had ascended to the heavens, the pleasure was so intense.
Despite her attempts to resist, I held her head firmly, continuing my rhythmic thrusts. Oddly enough, her resistance seemed to heighten the pleasure, making it all the more stimulating.
Jenny, my boss, was always stern and held a position of authority over me. Yet here she was, giving me a blowjob! The irony was not lost on me, and the sense of conquest was intoxicating.
I thrust my large cock in her mouth non-stop, and despite her evident reluctance, she had no choice but to endure silently. The satisfaction was unparalleled, a sweet revenge for the countless times she had berated me and assigned me menial tasks.
The overwhelming pleasure soon reached its peak, and within mere minutes, I found myself unable to hold back any longer. I came right in Jenny's mouth!
As the climax of pleasure coursed through me, all past grievances seemed trivial.
However, the aftermath was more than she could handle. The evidence of my pleasure overflowed from her mouth, a lascivious sight.
She coughed dryly, pushing me away and rushing to the washbasin to rinse her mouth.
Fortunately, the restroom was now empty, saving her the embarrassment of being seen in such a state. I hastily pulled up my pants and made my exit.
Her eyes, filled with fury, followed me. "John! This isn't over. I'll see to it that you're fired and behind bars!" she threatened.
Despite her anger, traces of my semen still lingered around her mouth. I met her gaze calmly and replied, "You won't." I smirked in response to her threat. "Go ahead. Let's see how the company reacts when they find out what you've been up to in the men's restroom."
Her finger, poised to dial, froze.
I continued, "Do you really think the police will side with you? You willingly entered the men's restroom, and the surveillance footage can prove it. If anyone should be reporting harassment, it's me."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. She was at a loss for words, unable to refute my claims. The realization that she was in the wrong, despite being forced into the act, was a bitter pill to swallow. As I walked past her towards the exit, I couldn't help but remind her, "You might want to clean up before you leave."
Startled, she quickly bent over the washbasin to rinse. I left the restroom, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.
Her angry voice echoed behind me, "John, this isn't over!"
I paid her no mind and continued on my way.
I now had two pieces of leverage against Jenny. The first was the incident in the restroom, and the second was her secret live-streaming of pole dancing and her illicit intentions towards Mighty Tiger, who was none other than me. With these two pieces of evidence, I had nothing to fear.
Humming a tune, I made my way home, the memory of Jenny giving me a blowjob still fresh in my mind. It was a pity that I couldn't take things further due to her being on her period. Next time, I promised myself, I would take full advantage.
It wasn't until I reached my front door that I realized I had left my keys at the office. Cursing under my breath, I pulled out my phone to contact my landlord, Rita Moore, via Facebook.
I lived in a city known as Sevan. Throughout this past year, and even more so in Sevan, my landlady, Rita Moore, had shown me nothing but kindness.
Rita Moore, a woman of thirty, was a single mother, and she raised her five-year-old daughter single-handedly. She was a woman of considerable wealth, with numerous properties to her name.
Despite her financial independence, she found a jobless life to be monotonous. Thus, she had taken up a position as an accountant.
Rita was an intellectual woman, blessed with blonde hair, striking beauty, and an enviable physique. Her voice was as soft as a whisper.
However, she often indulged in playful banter with me, teasing, "John, I'm quite fond of you. If you ever grow weary of work, let me know. I'll pay you, and all you'd need to do is sleep with me once a day!"
Each time Rita uttered these words, I found myself tempted to consider her proposition.
After all, Rita was a stunning woman. The idea of being intimate with her daily, coupled with monetary compensation, seemed too enticing to be real!
However, I fear she might be jesting, and thus, I refrained from accepting her offer.
I texted Rita.
John: [Rita, I seem to have left my room key at the office. Do you happen to have a spare?]
Rita: [Yes, come and collect it. You've just finished work, haven't you? Why not join me for dinner?]
John: [Okay, thank you!]
My heart was filled with joy. After all, I had yet to have my evening meal!
I had dined at Rita's home on several occasions. Her culinary skills were impressive, and her meals, delectable!
It appeared I was in for a delightful treat that evening!
Rita resided in the upscale neighborhood adjacent to mine. It was a leisurely twenty-minute stroll away.
Soon enough, I found myself standing at Rita's doorstep, ringing the doorbell.
Moments later, Rita, clad in a wide-necked T-shirt, opened the door, "John, come in, and do take off your shoes!"
As she bent down to retrieve a pair of men's slippers from the shoe rack, my heart fluttered...
Rita was not wearing a bra!
I caught a glimpse of Rita's bare, white breasts!
I took a deep breath, attempting to regain my composure.
I was at Rita's home for dinner, not for any ulterior motives...
However, Rita's breasts were truly enticing, shaped like droplets of water, and appeared quite appealing.
I found myself sneaking a few more glances.
Just then, a little girl ran over, "Uncle Cena, did you come to see me?"
I quickly looked away.
The little girl running towards me was called Judith Moore, Rita's daughter.
I picked her up, "Judith, did you miss me?"
"Yes!"
Judith nodded and said, "Did Uncle Cena miss Judith?"
"Of course I did!"
I couldn't resist pinching her soft cheek.
Over a year ago, shortly after I moved in, Judith had once gotten lost. Rita was in a state of panic, searching for her. Ultimately, it was I who helped Rita locate Judith. Consequently, both Judith and Rita were immensely grateful to me, and our relationship blossomed.
As Rita headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner, I settled on the sofa to play with Judith.
Suddenly, I noticed a few pieces of freshly laundered lace underwear on the balcony.
It appeared that Rita had washed all her bras, which explained her lack of one.
However, I also spotted a few pieces of men's clothing on the balcony!
I was somewhat surprised. Wasn't Rita a single mother?
Why would there be men's clothing at home?
Could it be that a man had moved into Rita's house?
Could it be that Rita had a new husband?
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