My coworker became my owner.

In the first part of this story, I was telling how horny I was for my service friend and how I liked to smell his underwear at night when he slept, as long as we were in a hotel in Rondônia on duty. In the following days we became even closer, which made me very happy but at the same time afraid that nothing would come out. Another afternoon at the pool and we drink a lot. He had the suit I had idolized a few days before. We were looser by the alcohol effect and we talked again about my favorite subject: sex. More abused than ever, he wanted to know everything and I didn't spare any details. I told him I didn't like to fuck around because I was in a lot of pain, but I loved underwear, thongs. That I loved to suck a cock until I got tired, that when I felt safe in the guy I would let him cum in my mouth, who liked to get hit in the face, to be dominated. I even peed on my face. - I mean, I'm done, with the right guy I like everything that's slutty. - What? I never got a chance to do shit, he answered a little low. - What? It's never too late to start, I said. - It's okay. It's just that I don't have experience with other guys, otherwise I'd try something with you, he retorted in a playful tone. - It's okay. You don't need experience, John, just let it go and let it go. - You had to let me take over you? Would you feel safe with me? He asked. I went totally crazy and lost my temper. - I do. We can play as far as you want. I won't push it, I promise. He sidetracked and I felt like an idiot. I got nervous about that no-direction game, and I decided to go upstairs with an excuse. He kept drinking beer even though he was already pretty drunk. You didn't say anything when I left. I went into the prison and I looked at him from the window, hating myself for lowering the grip like that. Hating him for giving me baseless hopes. I saw him go to the parking lot entrance where the showers were. I lay on the bed and pretended I was reading the paper, foaming with hate and sadness. He's in. - What? How do you leave me standing there like an idiot and not tell me anything? He was already standing next to me. - You can't even talk about so drunk, I answered without taking my eyes off the paper and making fun of him. Surprisingly he slapped me in the face: Look at me when I talk to you, you fucking faggot. I was amazed, looking at him. - You son of a bitch! You must be dying to suck my dick, you shameless tramp. He lit me up. His dick was bursting in the trunk right in front of my face. I never thought I'd see it all close up live. I grabbed his thigh, rubbed my face on my dick under my bathing suit. - Let me suck it, João. I beg you. I'll do whatever you want. He moaned a little, enjoying the scrubbing and my full delivery. But then he pushed me back to bed. He knelt, with each knee on one side of my shoulders, positioned his dick's head right on my nose and said, Is that what you want, you faggot? Dream on. I'm not in the mood to satisfy you, you worm. He said that when he rubbed his dick all over my face, already holding my arms against the bed and cursing me of whatever name it was. I started masturbating over my shorts and when he saw it he came off me. - It's okay. What a shameless faggot, he was already jerking off! Fuck you, you dirty bastard. Joke's over now. Still lying there, I held onto his waist. He'd squeeze your delicious ass without taking his face off his dick. She licked her furry little belly, her nipple surrounded by hair, I laid my face on her hairy chest and begged: Please let me satisfy you, come in my mouth, hit me, curse me, do whatever you want but don't leave this bed, I beg you. He got carried away a little, low-lying, depending on where I passed the tongue he groaned more deeply. The head of the stick, after all the rubbing, came out of the trunk. I went to put my mouth on and had another slap. - What? Behave yourself, faggot! He went to the bathroom to take a shower and left me to see ships. As he bathed, I ended up jerking off again. The other day, not a word. The day passed, the night came, we were still at the branch testing the latest shows that day. I couldn't even concentrate on the job. Everyone left and only the two of us and the cranes were in the lobby, far from where we were. I was already thinking about something to break the tension but as soon as I opened my mouth and he interrupted me, harsh: Let's go to the bathroom. I feel like peeing. He made me kneel, forced me to hold his thigh and with the other hand I had to hold his dick as long as he peed. When it was over, he didn't even shake his dick, he kept it anyway, and then his underwear was splashed with piss. With his pants on his knees, with his dick covered with his underwear spattered, he turned to me. I, still kneeling, held his waist but he kept my head apart with his hands. You kept caressing me on the back of my neck without letting me near you. He spread his legs to get better and kept asking me, Who's in charge of this obedient faggot? I'd say, you. - You want me to own you? - Yes, please. I saw his ass twitching through the mirror as he pulled me against his prick under his wet underwear. I kissed his dick's head, licked his belly, thighs, rubbed his hairy ass under his underwear, shoved his face in the bag (the smell of his underwear was delicious), smoothed his hairy chest. I went up, took his shirt off completely, raised his arm, licked his armpit. He groaned loudly and said: That little faggot, he's squawking at your man's body. It gives me pleasure, go. I couldn't stand the urge to feel my pussy's mouth all over my body. Finish your male the way only you know, go. Encouraged by these words I kissed him on the mouth. He responded a little unhandled and I decided not to. I went back to the cock, took his underwear off. The stick was pointing up so hard. The foreskin was wet with piss. I pulled my skin away, sucked my glander, leaving my man's dick clean. The cock was darker than the rest of the white body, the red head. It's a thick, thick-headed, six-inch roll. It was bigger than I thought but it was nothing unusual. He had even more hair around the fucking place. What a beautiful thing that fucking hard-ass coming out of that pile of hair! The round, heavy bag. It was paradise. I made a lot of noise to suck and drool, because I realized he liked it that way. And me, too, sucking like that, looking like a slut, I felt even more pleasure. He'd take it off, he'd rub his head on my lips, he'd shove it back up to the stalk, he'd ask me to stand there with my dick down his throat, and he wouldn't move either. He'd be like this a little bit and I'd feel the roll pulsing. Then I'd go back to fucking my mouth, sometimes slowly, sometimes with will. We stayed like this for about 15 minutes until we heard a noise coming from the elevator. He was one of the guards making the rounds. We got dressed, went out and went to the hotel. In the taxi I still went with my hands on his thighs and with his arm holding firmly on my waist without the driver seeing. Getting out of the cab and going up in the elevator, I still mentioned that the driver was a hard-on. I got slapped in the face and he told me: Today you'll sleep in the mood to learn, you slut. You don't respect your man, do you? You little... He spit in my face and went straight to the bathroom. - It's okay. And there's more, if I see you sniffing my underwear today, as you always do, you'll be out of your macho dick by next week, you dirty bitch. You think I don't know you do this every night? I'm not having fun today. He put all his underwear together, including his beloved swimsuit and put it under his mattress. I thought it was funny that he called me names using feminine terms, but I kept quiet. After all, he owned me. How could I spend a whole night without smelling him? I was in agony but I accepted my male's decision. Go on...