My morning routine is the same on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays: get up at five, make coffee for my master, lube my asshole and wait on my hands and knees on the living room table for my master's morning fuck.
Generally, he takes his time in the morning using my back as a table for the morning paper and sipping his coffee. Slow, long strokes, all the way out, then all the way in. Again and again and again until I am squirming with need, moaning in bliss, and begging for a release he never grants me.
Occasionally, he is in a hurry and he pounds my ass hard and fast. Either way, he always finishes inside me, leaving a sticky mess dripping down the back of my legs.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I meet him at the base of the stairs for a morning face fuck. These vary a lot. Some days, he leaves my lips bruised and my throat raw as he nearly chokes me. Others, he merely stands still and lets me do all the sucking and swallowing. Most days, it is somewhere in between. Always, he finishes by holding the back of my head, pushing his cock in until his balls hit my chin, and shooting his hot load straight down my throat.
Whatever day it is, he leaves for the office by seven-thirty giving me some time to recover, clean myself, and dress for the day.
He likes me to wear suits and look professional when I come to his office each day. He insists that I buy tailored suits - at my own expense - but refuses to allow me to wear any undergarments. I bring with me each day his catered lunch and serve it to him privately. When he finishes eating, he fucks me again.
Typically, he opens my shirt and bits my chest in a hundred places before twisting my nipples as if he's trying to remove them. Since I don't own any underwear, it is easy for him to push his hand inside my pants and grab my cock.
I'm almost always dripping by then and his hand makes me gasp. I can't come, of course; I would never be able to get the stain out of the suits I wear. And he'd certainly never forgive me if I stained his carpet or worse, ruined one of his good suits. Instead, I lie there or stand there going out of my mind as he bites me and strokes me until he's ready.
Then, if I'm not already on the floor, he lays me down, pulls my pants off and lifts my legs over his shoulders. He insists that I keep my eyes open, locked on his. He smirks as he fucks me, watching my expressions as I try not to make a sound while he fairly aims at my prostate. Most days, I can't even breathe as I look into those eyes, taunting me. If he's really in a mood to be cruel, he'll stroke my cock until I'm throbbing while he fucks me.
In the end, of course, its all about him coming hard and satisfying himself. Usually he leaves another sticky mess inside me, but sometimes, when he's feeling particularly wicked, he'll pull out and leave his cum all over my face.
When he does that, I can't help lying there after he's gone back to work and finishing myself.
Once I have control of myself again, I clean up our lunch room and go home to prepare for dinner.
At dinner, I can relax a bit. I can dress comfortably. No undies, of course, and I must be showered and lubed, but we do talk like civil people. We discuss the news of the day or whatever he feels like discussing. Sometimes, after we eat, we'll play a game or watch a movie. The regular household servants handle clean up and dishes so I can pretty much spend my evening taking care of master.