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Kaiser likes looking down at people. In a figurative sense, but the same condescension can also translate through the physical act of doing so.
You kiss along his inner thigh, watching him through your eyelashes. He’s trying to maintain his pretense of smugness with his usual shitty unbearable smirk on his face, but his muscles are already tensing, you assume in anticipation.
“Come on, get on with it. Stop with that teasing bullshit.” Naturally Kaiser only complains about the ‘teasing bullshit’ when he’s not the one doing it. He’s so demanding, sometimes you want to shut him up.
Barely resisting the urge to express your annoyance on your face, you ignore him and lick a stripe across his skin, not just to aggravate him, but also because you find it amusing to feel the goosebumps rising under your tongue. Kaiser shifts on the chair so that his dick is rubbing your cheek (must be his version of a slap without actually committing to being undignified enough to do something he considers below his supposed class), giggling to himself like an ingrate as if he’s hilarious.
You glare at him with mild contempt. “Who the hell do you think you are, whore?”
“The fuck did you just call me?” This is enough to bring a frown to his face and a crease on his forehead, brows pinching together.
Again, you disregard him. You know Kaiser hates it when you do that, which makes it funny. Then you lift your head and wrap your hand around his cock, spitting on the tip a few times till it’s wet enough. You don’t care about slobbering or making it messy or jerking it up and down. If he wants it so bad he’s getting impatient, he’s gonna get it. This also does wonders in helping you distract him from how he’s offended and mad at you.
After a few precursory licks and kisses starting from the base and up his length, deliberately salivating over it more, you wrap your mouth around his cock and bob your head up and down, taking him in an inch at a time with hollow cheeks. Your fingers trail up his hips and onto his sides, caressing him with a kind of gentleness which always makes him shiver. It’s so cute when you can feel him get harder the longer you suck him off, dick twitching now and then in response to your ministrations.
You do not avert your gaze away from Kaiser, watching him watch you. His reactions are the most enjoyable part — the change in pace of the rise and fall of his chest, the shallow little inhales, the flush of his skin.
You pull away to lick his frenulum with the tip of your tongue over and over, rubbing your upper lip against the head before taking him back in the slightest bit like you’re making out with his cock. All the while you maintain eye contact and stimulate with one of your hands where your mouth won’t reach. Your jaw hurts from how far you’re extending it, but you love to give him a show. Love feeling him in your mouth, bearing witness to his coming undone, knowing you’re the cause of his pleasure.
Kaiser, unable to stand this for long, whines and reaches out to yank you down. You slap away his pesky fingers before they can reach you and lick along the side of his cock again, drooling over it some more. When you kiss the tip, he bucks his hips into nothing without any semblance of control, subconsciously, pressing against you for more friction.
You part your lips to let him in, and then you swallow him down to the base. He’s your meal and you’ll consume him whole. Kaiser curses without much creativity but a lot of strain — ‘fuck, shit’ — when he hits the back of your throat, reveling the tightness. Your groan causes a vibration when you gag. Then you pull back and perform the same motion of taking him in so deep so quickly, trying to hear him cry out again and again, and Kaiser does with soaring intensity as if the sensation is becoming more novel, repeating your name, panting it like it’s an invocation. Thrusting into your mouth like a needy mutt, clenching his fists by his sides, body pulled all taut while he arches his back.
Tears have been gathering in your eyes and you keep trying to blink them away, looking up at the ceiling. You breathe in deep through your nose with a struggle. The muscles in his stomach are trembling under your palms. He’s at his most handsome when he’s scrunching his face in desperation without much regard for how he’s coming across and the way he says your name when he’s borderline incoherent is more flattering than any praise.
Throat sore, you back away, drool running down your chin.
“Please,” says Kaiser. Conniving bitch knows he’s irresistible when he begs. “Please, I need more. Finish me off. Wanna cum in your mouth, please?”
You indulge him anyway even though his game is about transparent, taking his cock in your fingers, lapping at it, kissing it, sucking on it, swathing him in your mouth, stroking his shaft. Without thinking much of it, you grind your crotch against the floor, too into it now to maintain the staring contest. It’s burning without relief to the point it’s almost painful.
“Please don’t stop,” Kaiser begs again. Maybe to ensure you’re convinced, he accentuates his implorations with more lustful calls of your name. “Fuck, you look so good like this.”
His moans grow frantic, almost like he’s whimpering. You pump his dick and move your mouth up and down with a more purposeful tempo to coax his orgasm out of him. He’s really canting towards you now. Kaiser won’t bother telling you when he’ll come exactly because he doesn’t believe in common decency, but it’s obvious when he throws his head back with clenched teeth, babbling some nonsensical bullshit with scattered keens of yes and please and fuck.
You don’t stop even when he first ejaculates, continuing to suck as he rocks his hips with a sort of helplessness you find attractive. When you look up at him, you notice he’s making a face as if this is the most exerting thing he’s ever done. And when it stops, signaling he’s empty, you consider spitting over the carpet just to be an asshole, but you love him after all so you swallow anyway.
You rest your head on Kaiser’s thigh while he relaxes and tries to gather his composure. You grow bored of it quickly though when he doesn’t become responsive quick enough and climb into his lap where he sits on the chair, embracing his side. He leans against you, but he’s still doing owlish blinks with this solemn expression as if he saw god.
“I wanted to see what you look like with tears streaming down your face, but you didn’t wanna give me the satisfaction,” complains Kaiser, holding onto your waist tighter.
You scoff at the stupid, out of the blue remark. “Of course your freaky ass wants to look at people crying.”
“It’s just blow job crying,” he says like this is some common turn of phrase. You roll your eyes in discontent and Kaiser snickers. He then fails at stopping being annoying. “You gagged on it. Am I too big for you?”
“I like you better when you’re quiet.”
“You don’t mean that… The way you suck dick is so disgusting.”
“Stop love bombing me,” you say.
“I will admit I’ve tried to do that to you before, but this isn’t one of those times.”
You laugh at the blunt admission because he’s sick in the head. Kaiser’s smile, as usual, is very snide, more so when he’s trying to slip his fingers into your underwear.