A tribute to men in business suits

Black pencil skirt. Black button-up shirt. Garter belt, thigh-high stockings, platform stiletto heels. Black lace bra.
I go to his apartment, shifting from foot to foot on the long ride in the elevator. I've never done this before, but been thinking about it longer than I can remember. I would fantasize, feeling ashamed and mortified that I could fetishize something like this. And now, here I am. Walking down the twisting hallway to his door.
I knock. He opens. I walk into his apartment, opening my jacket and placing down my purse.
"You look nice." he says. I thank him.
"The envelope on the table is for you." he says. I thank him and place it in my purse. It is the last we will speak of it.
He sits on his couch and I walk over, kneeling between his knees. I don't know how to start this, but I'm shaking already. Trembling is a better way to describe it. I am wanton.
I begin to run my fingers over his thighs, his chest, which is hard under my fingers. He's in work clothes still. I have a fetish for a man in a suit, and the fabric of his pants is soft and rough at the same time under my skin. I can feel him harden- which is my favorite part of any encounter with a man- and here it is. His hardening cock below my fingers.
I keep rubbing his cock under his pants, and I can feel my clit starting to throb. I want to fuck him more than anything. I can't help myself and climb onto this lap, trying to grind against his swollen cock. I kiss his neck, and the sounds making the short space between his mouth and my ears are sublime. I feel myself getting wetter and wetter, and when he pushes my thighs back and I move down onto the floor, there is a large drop of my juices on his pants.
He smiles and I wipe it up with my fingers, licking it off them without even thinking. He begins to pull out his cock, and it's huge, long and thick. I want it in my mouth but he's going to choke me with it. I'm nervous. I still have a gag reflex.
I begin to squeeze it in my fingers, stroking up and down the long shaft. He fills my hand, and it is warm in my palm. He pushes my head down and I eagerly start to suck. I do more than suck. I suck and lap and lick and stroke with my tongue. I want him to know how much I want his cock desperately. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to be his best girl.
I suck eagerly, devouring his cock, with my mouth over and over. He moans, and holds my head down, and I almost panic, breathing hard. He stands and holds my head with his hands, and pushes the hand which is on his shaft away. He wants to fuck my mouth.
I want to be his good girl.
He starts slowly, and I squeeze his thighs. I'm scared. He starts to shove it deeper and deeper, choking me with his cock and I fight every urge to pull back. His cock tastes sweet, and I am choking on it. I am trying to calm myself, breathing through my nose and holding onto his thighs, and I am choking on his cock. He is fucking my mouth deeper, harder than I have ever experienced before, and his control over me is electric. I am choking on his cock. Every once in a while I pull back, he be continues to pump into my mouth, easing it back into my throat. I'm choking on his cock and I don't want to stop.
He finally pulls out, telling me what a good girl I am and I beg him on my knees to fuck me. He tells me to get up and bend over. I pull up my skirt and bend over the couch, cunt dripping down my thighs. I am desperate for him. He grabs my hips and slips all nine inches inside me without a hesitation. I cry out, and feel him stretching me. As he starts to fuck me I can feel him in my stomach, and it aches. It is the dull ache of being his little slut; his whore. It feels incredible. I whimper, turning to watch him and he grabs my hair and pulls it.
"I don't want to hear you." He growls, and it goes straight to my clit.
I try so hard not to make any noise but I still make the smallest whimpering noise and I don't want him to hear it. I just want him to keep fucking me.
He pulls out and tells me to get back on my knees, which I do eagerly. I hold onto his thighs and open my mouth, wanting his cock in my throat all over again. He slaps me in the face with his swollen, huge cock. I leave my mouth open like a good little girl, like his fucktoy, and be begins to jerk off over my face. He's going to cover me with his cum and I can't wait. I squirm beneath him, feeling my own warmth as I kneel in front of him. He continues to stroke his beautiful cock and I lean up to lick the head every time I can. He grabs my head, shoving it in one more to finally cum.
It tastes incredible; thick and sweet like honey. And I am eager to drink all of it. He pulls out and shoots more and more onto my face, letting it run down my chin and over my cheeks.
The world moves in slow motion for a minute. He steps away to clean up while I sit on the couch and tremble, trying to re-button my shirt. We make small talk, but it will never cement into my brain. I redress and tell him that he still has some time, but he says that he needs to work. We make even smaller talk and I put myself back together in what feels like slow, lamenting motions. We hug and I leave.
I am shaken. I am soaked. I am his good girl.