Lucas is once again looking his green, pleading, wanton eyes, up to Stephen, mouth full of cock.

His calves and thighs burning, as he squats before Stephen, hands on Stephen’s hips, hard cock invading his throat vigorously.

Stephen looks down at him, watching Lucas's needy eyes, as they communicate the hope that his effort is satisfactory.

His pleas soon answered.

"Uh, yeah… th-that's fucking g-good, Watterson…" Stephen praises, his American accent holding curses differently, more punctuated and harsh, in the dark office.

That harshness spat those words right down to Lucas, as Stephen’s brown eyes bore into Lucas's libidinous gaze.

Lucas letting out a whimper, vibrating through Stephen's dick, a moan leaving his lips in turn, as he throws his head back in ecstasy.

"Oh yeah, you love being used don't you, bitch?" Stephen spits, rocking his head forward, watching Lucas’ fiery desire.

Such passion, such eagerness, positively dripping from Lucas, as he focuses only on providing pleasure.

Stephen’s hands firmly around Lucas’ head, his fingers laced in short salt-and-pepper hair, as he watches Lucas’ cherry blossom lips becoming plump and slick.

Another whimper reverberating through Stephen's cock, Lucas squeezing his grip on Stephen's hips, two encouraging responses to this act of degradation.

"You're s-so good for me, Watterson..." Stephen praises, his words rasping as he edges closer with each thrust.

Lucas's eyes widen, the praise pulsing through him, exactly the words to swarm his system, lighting up the beautiful, evasive, spots, floating in the nebulous high, shooting salvation through his nerves.

A twitch in his underwear, reminding him just how loudly his own cock screams for attention, remaining hard and untouched under his dress pants.

The unfairness if it all, Lucas knowing he won’t be touched, only here to provide release, then be left, glorious and perverse. Amplifying the tightness in his trousers, and the wet patch he can feel at the tip.

Stephen tightens his grip on Lucas’ hair, pulling him off, Lucas gasping for air in turn, eyes fixed on Stephen. Dazed, lost, foggy.

“You want me to cum down your fucking throat, Watterson?” Stephen asks, cock tip resting on Lucas’ plump, pink lips, hot breath caressing the underside.

With eyes half-closed, breath ragged, heart racing, Lucas nods.

“What was that?” Stephen teases, his cock twitching against Lucas’ face.

Lucas reaches his tongue out, trying to speak without words.

“I said… What was that?” Stephen asks again, guiding the lustful and squirming Lucas away from his hard cock.

Lucas grips tighter into Stephen’s thighs, his own absolutely screaming for rest, more alight than his yearning, as he hangs on the tripping point, his balance precarious, on the very balls of his feet, behind his own desk, in the pitch-black Melbourne winter evening.

“Y-yes… yes please! S-Sir!” Lucas calls, his English accent almost completely lost in his dizzy tone, deep in his favourite place.

Stephen looks down, his soft, dark, curls sticking to his glistening forehead, breath thick, as he guides Lucas back just enough to again rest his cockhead between those pink lips.

“Yes… what?” Stephen teases, his tone playful but dominant. “Yes please… what?”

“Y-yes please, Sir... Pl-please c-cum down my…” Lucas breathes, his words floating up to Stephen, as he swims in his own red-hot longing. “my th-throat… I-I want to feel… it.”

Watching Lucas in such a daze, looking up at him with those pleading green eyes, it was enough to make Stephen cum untouched. But he’s kind enough to fulfill Lucas’ request.

In a swift move, Stephen pushes Lucas onto his cock, firm and controlled, the sensation of the tip hitting the back of Lucas’ throat, after such respite, flooding bliss through his system, eliciting a moan from Stephen’s apricot lips.

Lucas moans in kind, relishing in being nothing more than a thing, savouring the thrill of being used, lost in a space between this realm and the next.

Those moans sending vibrations through Stephen’s cock, up his spine, as he fucks Lucas’ mouth, release approaching, closer, nearer, right there.

"Ah f-fuck, I-I’m gonna cum, Watterson!" Stephen calls, his words bouncing around the small, dark office.

Lucas can only watch, keen and taken, his throat full of Stephen’s cock, his hair full of Stephen’s hands, his ears filling with Stephen’s ecstasy, his own cock untouched and wanting in his trousers.

Stephen looks down once more, seeing Lucas looking up at him like he’s the embodiment of sex, sin, and devotion, as though he’s worshipping at the altar of desire.

It’s enough to send Stephen over the edge, his head rolling back, euphoria washing over him, delicious sounds pulsing out of him, engulfing Lucas’ office in Stephen’s deep, lewd, moans, echoing around them, a chorus of elation.

Shivers running up his spine, his head spinning, his breaths ragged, his hot cum spilling down Lucas’ throat, his cock twitching, once, twice, three times, four times.

Coming back to Earth, he slowly pulls Lucas off his cock, taking in short breaths in the aftershocks.

Stephen keeping his grip firm of the back of Lucas's head, tilting the face up to see how flushed and depraved Lucas looks, as though he'd move the sun and the planets just to have Stephen's cock down his throat again.

"F-fuck, you look good like th-that, Watterson." Stephen praises, tracing fingers over Lucas's cheek and running a thumb along his soaked, plump lips.

"Th-thank you, Mr. Herzig.” Lucas replies, breathless and electrified, his entire body ablaze with desire and pent-up sexual energy.

"I bet you'd like a little-” Stephen tightens his grip on that salt-and-paper hair, tilting Lucas back ever so. "slap right about now."

"Oh, pl-please, yes... Y-yes yes please, Sir." Lucas begs, vibrating with need.

Stephen pulls his caressing hand back, Lucas eyes following his movements with palpable anticipation, and swings hard, slapping firmly against Lucas’ eager face.

"Thank y-"

Lucas thanks are interrupted by Stephen's back hand against his other cheek, the sensation welcome, but taking him by surprise, his legs shaking in response.

"T-thank you, sir!" Lucas calls, a whimper following his words, as the stings resonate through his over-stimulated body.

"Such a good little slut for me." Stephen praises, running his hands from Lucas’s hair, up clinging arms, feeling hot skin through a sage green shirt, and pausing at Lucas’ hands. “Now clean yourself up."

Stephen's hands slipping under Lucas's fingers, as they fight to stay gripped on hips, the bolt keeping the hinge connected, and with a swift move, pulling them apart.

A whimper leaves Lucas’ lips, as he falls ungracefully, struggling to catch himself with his palms, scrambling up onto his forearms, legs spent and aching, flopped out in front of him, trying to steady his breath, feeling his pulse in his rock-hard cock.

The silence screams through the small office, as Stephen steps away, and Lucas watches, not daring to move or speak, unsure if he'd be given permission to touch himself or not, and still awaiting, or hoping, for more praise.

Without a word, Stephen tucks his glossy cock back in his boxer briefs, and takes his time slipping into his trousers, undershirt, and dress shirt, feeling Lucas’ salacious eyes on him, waiting and eager.

Mercifully, Stephen turns to Lucas, dripping with anticipation, as Stephen leans over him, speaking into the quiet.

"When I leave…" Stephen instructs, hushed, yet commanding and intense. "You can get yourself off. But I want you here again next Friday. That mouth of yours is fucking good."

He lets out a deep, desperate moan, but is cut off by Stephen bobbing down and taking him in for a rough and passionate kiss.

Lucas' hands remaining glued to the floor, not daring to touch without permission, as Stephen runs his fingers through Lucas’ hair, down his neck, over his shoulders, conquering, yet gentle, wanting to explore, to feel.

Stephen tasting himself on Lucas’ tongue, salty and familiar, feeling the absolute desperation coursing through Lucas, as he kisses back with zeal, like holy deliverance is contained within Stephen’s lips.

Stephen pulls back slowly, Lucas following him, eyes still closed, hoping for more of that exhilarating kiss.

But as Lucas’ eyes open, they see Stephen putting on his suit jacket, and grabbing his backpack and winter coat, before turning off the desk light, and heading out the door of Lucas's office; a sliver of light streaming in, and swiftly fading, leaving Lucas in the completely dark room alone, to finally release his own tension.