It was another long day after work for Darren. I was used to the same routine when he came home. I had a well rounded, hearty dinner ready by 5PM, and my prettiest pajamas on by 7PM after taking an "everything" shower. That entailed washing my hair, exfoliating the skin so it glowed and was supple, shaving every inch, and spritzing some perfume on the hotspots of my body. He enjoyed it but I couldn't always do it due to having a busy life. I did my best to please him and his happiness is what I lived for. Some may call it toxic... I called it intoxicating.

"Alex, are you coming..?" I perked up at his voice, fixing my hair and then running out to meet him in our room. He had a movie on and was laying on his back, watching me. He was worn out from his blue collar job and the smell of his manly musk and hard days of work filled the air. Most people would think it was gross — him sleeping in bed without a shower— but I didn't mind and that was what a washer was for anyways. I loved his smell, the sweat, the callouses on his palms and feet, his leathered skin from the sun, the unnecessity of a clean shaven face.

I loved rubbing his body as I did every night. That was what I began to do now, stalking my way to the bed. I stood at the foot of the bed, massaging his ankles over the blankets in short circular motions. Working my way up his shin, to his knee, then his muscular thighs, I continued the motion. I focused on his joints and the muscles surrounding them as the wear and tear of the day on his large frame took a toll on him.

I practiced this method on his other leg as well, climbing my way up the bed as I moved my hands higher. I watched his eyes flutter shut and him adjust his shoulders with relief as he sank into the pillow. His perfect, dark lashes rested on his cheek and his lips were so perfect and pink, being the only soft asset he had left since I started massaging his thighs. I would giggle to myself when I saw his feet extend straight in reaction to me nearing his crotch, or when his toes would curl. I purposely teased that way so he would stay awake for the entire massage. It usually worked but sometimes I did so well in the massage he drifted off regardless.

I shifted my attention from the thighs to then straddle him. My short legs struggled to fit around his broad muscles, straining at the hips where they stretched wide. They still weren't used to it even after all these years. I sat on his hips, trying to shift his semi-hard cock to the side through the loose boxers he wore so there was no discomfort for him with my weight. As my pantie-clad bottom rested on his ever hardening muscle, I moved my hands over his firm stomach and pectorals.

His muscles fascinated me. He was so strong, powerful, so much larger than me. He was my gentle giant. But I loved seeing the raw strength of his being used, or his lust channeled towards me in the best way. Feeling the ridges under his skin and his member strained against my ass made me clench in efforts to re-focus. I continued on, firmly massaging in the ways I watched in videos to learn for home use. I circled around his chest, then the well built shoulders sporting old, faded tattoos that peeked through my fingers.

I admired his ruggedness as his chest rose and fell. I shifted my weight forward, pushing my hips against him innocently. Pretending the soft rocking stir I made was from the effort of kneading into him, knowing that his body was eagerly reacting to me. His cock jumped against me and he sighed deeply.

I slid off, sitting next to him on the bed and hugged on his hands, "Sit up, so I can stretch you."

I'm not normally demanding, but I know in these scenarios, my bossiness doesn't bother him. My eager charge of pleasing him seems to be even more passive in a way, or at least that's how I see it. He groaned as he sat up. I quickly shuffled to him and straddled him from behind him.

I maneuvered his body for an assisted stretch in his back. I normally have him lay face down for a massage but due to his earlier complaints, I thought a stretch would help too. I can't help but peek around his broad back and see the tip of his hardened length as pushed through the hole in his boxers. I pressed my breasts against his back, kissing his warm flesh. My hands worked through his knots, one of them lingering a bit south. I like to graze my hand against him every so often because I love to feel him hard against me. Something about him being restricted in clothing, while throbbing underneath from my touch makes me want him more than anything.

My left hand caresses his skin and my right reaches under his arm to rub his dick. I struggle reaching my arms around him with how large his build is, but I try my best as my small stature is practically hidden behind him. I slip my hand into his boxers. His once limp, curly-haired head that rested his chin against his chest now fell back against me. I gripped the muscle between his legs, the veins pumping under my small fingers. I let out a breath, closing my eyes as I slowly squeezed him and kissed his shoulder. I adjusted my position so I could grip him but be closer to his neck.

As my lips met his tanned neck, I sucked and nipped softly at it. I pumped his dick again, as he slid down so he was reclined more against me, and I against the wall. This allowed me further access to him with the height difference we had, and more pleasure for him being able to relax. His massive weight over me didn't stress me except in the enthralling sense of being suffocated by such an intimidating and burly form such as his.

I nipped more against his weathered flesh on his throat, and his toes curled in response. I giggled and continued again, adding some licks and suckles to the mix. My hand developed a steady, tight rhythm around his rod. While his hips gently churned towards my hand, I heard a light sigh from his lips.

I kissed his jaw and up to his lips, rubbing my free hand into his dark, thick curls that emanated a strong scent into my nostrils directly. I breathed in deep, kissing him slowly but passionately. He was still tired, yet managed to feel rejuvenated enough to kiss me back in the same like. His plump lips pushed and prodded against mine. In the moment I moaned quietly into him, our tongues and lips embracing in the intimate moment. I picked up the pace with the same grip, twisting as I came up around the head.

I reach up to gather some spit in my hand, using it to go back to his cock. He groaned softly as I pulled away and his lips stayed parted, leaning against me. I returned back to his neck, my favorite victim to my oral fixations. With his job, there were no worries of dark purple hickeys getting him in trouble so I took the chance to utilize that freedom often.

Once again, my mouth worked on his neck, but sucked more forcibly. Bites and sucking peppered aggressively against him as I sped up the pace. He turned his neck back more, letting loose and not holding back his moans any longer. The heavy baritone of his voice rumbled against me with his groaning and encouraged my fervor. His legs tensed and his hips rocked faster. He thrusted himself into my hand that wasn't fully able to grip his girth.

With a grunt, he whipped around snatching me off of his back like a pesky monkey. He threw me onto his lap as his glistening, leaking hard on stood desperate. He tugged my panties aside for me to hold and lifted me up using his gorilla-sized (if we're continuing the primate puns) palms on my ass cheeks. I could feel his callouses against my smooth skin as he pulled me apart to envelope his sex.

It was all unexpected but very welcome nonetheless. I whimped then gasped at the force of his hands, combined with his tip prodding at my slit. He lifted my weight to line us up as if I were just a toy, then dropped me onto him.

At this point I knew I was no longer in the lead and all I could do was allow him to use my pussy as his, like it always would be. And all I could do was relish in the pleasure for however long he needed it. As his pulsating muscle drilled into me, he groaned. He let himself stay buried to the hilt as he throbbed deep inside of me for a moment. He panted, grunting as he leaned forward and pulled my nipple into his mouth as it dangled down. I yelped, turning into a girlish moan and I couldn't hold back my gyration against him. My walls gripped him tightly and my eyes shut, moaning carelessly as he continued to stay still and I rocked against him. His pubes tickled my clit in the best way, and his fingers dug deep into my hips.

He pulled away to growl at me, "Don't move." I whimpered, struggling to obey. The need and desperate lust I had buried in the whole massage was finally let loose the moment his cock met my pussy. Now, all the obedience I normally practiced so perfectly, seemed to be miles behind me. I whined as I gripped my nails far into his shoulders, slowing my rolling hips. I still rebelliously clenched around him, feeling him throb inside of me so deep. His hand reached up to grasp my tiny neck, his fingers nearly touching together.

I squeaked with my last breath available, looking down at him as his eyes bore deep into mine. They were no longer their beautiful blue but a devilish blackness created by his dilated pupils. He panted, smirking up at me and beginning our momentum again. He would grind in and out and pause, over and over each time. Every time he paused, he stared directly into my soul. I moaned without a breath while my ears turned red from lack of air and my veins bulged under his fingers.

My juices leaked over his boxers and wet my panties that were so crudely pushed aside. He bit his lip as his arm shook, moaning lowly. His cock continued to throb and began to swell inside. I cried out as the pace picked up without pause. He used his other hand to seal my lips while the other was preoccupied with my asphyxiation.

His emotions began a steady ramming into my cervix, pounding against it as it grew sensitive and painful. I whimpered and whined while my body still enjoyed the brutal fucking going on. I began to tremble as my hips leaned back for him to hit my g-spot. He breathed out dirty expletives, still able to praise me all the while. I was his perfect, good girl. His good slut. His little whore. I was his and he was going to claim me. My body was all his as his was mine to worship.

I met his hips continuously, my rhythm falling off the beat as I lost strength in the pleasure. He continued to beat himself into me, leveraging myself against him by my throat as a harsh jerk and loud grunt announced his orgasm. He pulled me into his chest as he rocked himself deep in me, milking himself as each spurt of hot seed filled me. I moaned as it hit my cervix, sliding inside and causing me to shake and spasm with my own finish. I whimpered into his shoulder as his cum continued to shoot into me, rope after rope as my pussy swallowed his essence into my womb. We throbbed into each other as we came down, as our chests beat together in breaths.

The last trickling drops of his cum leaked out and spilled from my pussy and mixed between us. I moaned quietly as he rolled us on our side, staying erect in me. Within a few moments and loving kisses on the cheek, he was fast asleep. This was purely the thing that made me happy. No, not the sex, but the service and closeness. It felt as romanticized as it was in the movies.

As he cradled me, his length softened inside me. I smiled and nestled into the crook of his neck and followed him into sleep without a worry.