fuguestates | DOING SOMETHING UNHOLY

The dirty words, the rough and entitled touch. Monty's eyes flutter closed and they bite their bottom lip, clinging to their Patron as the car speeds up. "Yes. Both," they admit, tilting their head up to look at Justin's face appealingly. "Do you think anyone noticed? Do you think...they liked it as much as I did?" Their words are barely a whisper, a tiny confession: it's obvious that Monty loved the idea.

A small, swallowed moan and Monty continues, consumed by this daydream, their hand wandering too, sliding over to Justin's belt buckle, flicks it, making it click loudly. "Maybe someone back at the café is still thinking about it. Maybe they're touching themselves, imagining what I'd look like if they could touch me, if they could just pull my needy little cunt open and fuck it, hard, just like you do, sir."

"Could anyone like it as much as you do, little one?" he asks, with a smile as he looks down at Monty's upturned face. "But I'm sure at leaat one of your admirers is imagining bending you over and fucking you open, maybe even using both your needy little holes at the same time." They frequented that cafe regularly, after all, despite it being out of the way, specifically because it was located within a designated adults-only space, and because the system protected such activities there. There were always gawkers and passersby, but some good number of the customers in that little district likely had dreams of being pulled into a scene with a Companion, or even had held a contract or two of their own.

He smirks as he looks down at Monty, the eager pleading in their wide blue eyes, already clearly desperate, and takes another sip of his coffee. "Obvious," he declares, not without affection, tapping Monty's nose. "But really I don't think you deserve my cock right now, not after your carelessness." He removes Monty's hand from his belt buckle, gestures at their own pants, the spreading patch of dampness, undeniable evidence of their desperate arousal.

"But I'm feeling generous this morning. Show me your needy little cunt, handsome, and I'll lend you a hand. If you can't get yourself off before we arrive, that's on you. I'm far too busy today to indulge you further, and you've already set my schedule back."

They wrinkle their nose a little when it's tapped and pouts. "But Mr. Baruch," they murmur, "even if you're busy, you need to take a little break, don't you? Why not let me help you with that? Relieve some of your stress. It's my fault for making you late anyway so let me make up for it."

The car stops at a light and Monty takes this chance to slowly undo the button and zipper of their pants, pushes aside the thin boxer briefs beneath to expose themselves.

"See, sir?" they ask cutely, their face never turning away from their Patron beside them as they draw their legs up so that they're practically bent in half on the wide seat, their cunt on full display, spread slightly open already and still damp from the teasing before. "I can be good for you, can't I?"

"A shame you don't think of these things until after the fact," he says, scolding, but still good-naturedly amused. He doesn't reply one way or another despite Monty's wheedling and pouting, simply watches as Monty tugs down their clothes, exposing themselves to his avid gaze. It's a beautiful sight - his Companion really was such a treat - and he reaches his large hand out to rest on their slim thigh, sliding his thumb along the already damp, hot folds.

"Is this you being good?" He murmurs, turning his hand so he can use his fingers to spread Monty open, exposing the soft, vulnerable skin to open air. "Or is this just you being a needy, selfish little slut?"

"Can't I be both, sir?" they ask, looking down now to see the way their Patron is playing with them so easily. Monty bites their lip, uses one of their own hands to fondle their small cock, tugging at it, feeling how it's already twitching with need.

"I like it when you do that, sir," they whisper back, clenching around nothing, watches the way their cunt tries to close and tighten but can't with Justin's thick fingers in the way. "Reminds me of our first time together."

He smiles softly, his expression warm and almost sweet, his own memory jogged by Monty's words. They had been so anxious and shy, back then. In the present day, Monty had gotten far bolder, more comfortable in their own skin, and nowhere was that more evident than in the eager, willing way they submit to Justin's whims, greedily accepting rough treatment and soft caresses with equal enthusiasm.

"Sometimes you pull it off," he replies, conversationally, sliding two thick fingers into Monty's sopping cunt with an obscene squelching sound and pumping them in and out. "Though sometimes I wonder if a slut is simply what you naturally are. It seems to be far more difficult for you to be good."

They moan, eyes locked to the lewd actions being done to them by their Patron's hand. "I just like sex," they whine, "and I just don't like to hide it so much. What's so wrong with that?"

The car goes slightly downhill now and the tilt forces most of Justin's hand inside of their body. The sound it makes is nearly enough to make Monty want to squirt on the spot, their eyes rolling back as they thumb at the head of their own little cock, adding to the jolts of pleasure shocking their body.

"Plus," Monty gasps, "you don't want me to be good, do you, Mr. Baruch?"

He chuckles softly, and adjusts his hand, offering Monty the heel of his hand to rub against, just under the base of their little cock, while his fingertips stroke against their taint, in and out of their pussy. "Certainly not all the time," he replies, and leans forward to kiss Monty, swallowing any other words or noises they might want to make.

"But you still have to deal with the consequences of your actions, regardless."

He glances out the window, noting that they were already turning onto the street that led to the parking garage for the office.

They melt into the kiss even while their body moves desperately along with each thrust of Justin's wrist, bucking and squirming rhythmically. They moan, feeling the fingers inside of them spread now and again. It feels so good when they're forced wide open.

And for a moment, they completely forget where they've arrived.

"Wait," they say, lips smeared with their shared saliva as they try to pull back and away. "Wait, sir, I - I don't have a change of clothes for work, I -"

Justin doesn't hesitate for a moment, even as darkness falls briefly over the car as they pass out of the morning daylight and into the underground parking structure, kissing Monty thoroughly and forcefully, practically swallowing the moans and noises they make while fingering them open roughly. "Consequences," he murmurs, and then he practically pounces despite the confines of the car, pinning Monty down on their back against the seat of the car with one hand and then forcing three fingers into their already sopping cunt, fingerfucking them roughly, the obscene squelching sounds swallowed up by the dull rumble of the car tires over the uneven paving.

They let out a loud yell that’s hardly noticeable with the way Justin has had them covered and pinned with his own far larger and stronger body. Monty struggles automatically, instinctually against the man, gasping with tears in their eyes when they feel their Patron mercilessly start to fingerfucking them, practically assaulting their little cunt, forcing it to accommodate the intrusion while they plead, “No, sir, please, don’t - don’t make me -!”

Monty cums screaming and twitching on his Patron’s hand, feeling the way his desperate pussy squeezes and squirts a shocking amount out onto their barely undone pants, staining and soaking through most of it completely.

He doesn't let up in the slightest, curling his fingers and thrusting them in roughly as Monty squirms and spasms around his hand, his thumb teasing deliberately at their clit to draw out their orgasm. He spares not even a glance or a thought to the mess Monty is making, even though the driver suppresses a sigh from the front seat. Most of it was on Monty's slacks anyway, soaking the fine material.

For a moment, he considers continuing, forcing Monty into a second or more prolonged orgasm, but he has to get on with the rest of his day.

"I need to get to my meeting," he says casually, roughly withdrawing his hand and holding it up to Monty's mouth for them to clean off, feeding them their own release. "I'll expect my order - done correctly this time - in my office before I'm done. Do you need more instructions than that, little one?"

Their whole body is burning with oversensitivity, their eyes blank, unfocused, totally fucked out. Their hands grab at Justin, desperate to keep him close.

The car has stopped moving. Monty barely notices because their Patron is talking to them, is giving them directions as they suck obediently on the wet fingers shoved into their mouth. They draw their tongue slowly, hungrily over the nails and knuckles as if it were the most delicious thing they've every tasted.

They don't answer immediately, in fact, momentarily lost in the heat of their Patron's touch, arousal completely overriding their mind as they cling to Justin, pulling back breathlessly to try and kiss him again, to make him stay, to tempt him into more debauchery.

He chuckles, but otherwise doesn't relent, pinning Monty down with his damp hand and pulling away from their kiss. "I asked you a question, Monty," he points out. "I thought I'd trained you better than this."

The tag on their collar jingles like a warning and they freeze.

"Yes, sir, you did sir," they pout, mumbling the response. Their hands fall down and start tugging their clothes back up.

"...These are ruined," they observe, looking down at the fabric which was just now starting to dry in obvious patches of crusty off-white.

"Consequences," he replies, with a shrug, and then sits all the way back, before opening the door of the car and stepping out into the parking garage, adjusting his clothes back into near-pristine condition, down to the cuff-links at their wrists. He doesn't look like someone who had spent the car ride groping their Companion and bringing them to an unexpected and spectacular orgasm, while still leaving them wanting for more.

DOING SOMETHING UNHOLY

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