The Taste of Freedom

"What? Wait, no, not h– Jesus!"

Alfred attempted to scoot out of his seat, but he was being prevented from doing so by a combination of hands clamping down on his thighs and a quickly developing hard-on. Ivan made short work of Alfred's belt and zipper, and had his cock halfway to his mouth when Alfred seized him by his head and tried to push him away.

"Not here!" he hissed.

His fingernails dug into Ivan's scalp and it was hurting quite a bit, but Ivan was not the least bit discouraged.

"You want this," he said matter-of-factly, letting his breath ghost over Alfred's trembling erection.

He watched as uncertainty clouded over Alfred's eyes, but his answer was apparent as his nails retracted from Ivan's skull. Once Alfred had relaxed enough of his grip, Ivan latched to the tip of Alfred's cock and gave it a small, teasing lick. Alfred's hands fell away then, and he slumped back into his chair with a loud exhale.

They were in a meeting room, and the oval table was strewn with papers left by the other board members before they broke up for lunch. A glass lay overturned by a particularly energetic Mr Vargas who had been the first to flee from the room, eager for food. It had been full of orange juice, which now spread across the table in a slow, treacly pool, soaking into stray documents and turning them into illegible mush.

Alfred had, of course, seated himself at the head of the table as was his usual presumptive self, and Ivan was kneeling on the carpeted floor in between his legs, sucking his cock. It was a bit of a squeeze under the table for a man of Ivan's size, but he did not mind it. He was willing to put up with the discomfort.

He sucked in as much of Alfred as he could, letting his tongue slide wetly along the underside as he slurped with deliberate lewdness, prompting Alfred to hitch a tight, pleasured groan. Slowly, without realising that he was doing it, Alfred combed through Ivan's soft, soft hair, twining his locks around his fingers. His breathing grew gradually shallow and ragged as Ivan suckled to him, head bobbing as he dragged his lips and tongue down along the length of his cock, and salivating liberally before neatly swallowing him whole again.

He was by no means perfect in execution. There was a clumsy hint of teeth which kept Alfred a little on edge, but the usually mouthy American was silenced now into a panting, red-faced mess, one hand clapped over his lips to keep from making too much noise.

Ivan decided that he quite liked his Alfred this way.

As he drew close to his climax, Alfred tightened his grip over Ivan's hair and forcibly yanked him in. Ivan spluttered a little from the abuse, but somehow swallowed down his irritation and redoubled his effort, encouraged by Alfred's wanton moans.

"Oh God…"

He could still taste Alfred in his mouth even as he chewed on a stick of mint-flavoured gum to clean his palate. The meeting had reconvened, and he idly watched from his seat as Alfred ran through his presentation slides at the head of the table, his pretty blue eyes darting quickly around the room, settling on no-one in particular as he sought to avoid eye contact with anyone.

How cute, Ivan mused quietly to himself.

He let his mid drift from the room as he pondered on how best Alfred could return the favour.