Breakroom door clicks locked. Printer hums in the corner. Mouse clicks echo from Pierre’s laptop. Coffee aroma mixes with my perfume. It’s Thursday, January 14, 1999, Montreal. Fourth day of brutal snow. Thermometer hit -30°C overnight. Wind chill -50°C. Cars dead everywhere. CAA swamped with 10,000 calls. Ours too. Pierre called at 9 AM. Told to wait till end of day. We worked late on dossiers. Open-space empty now. Just us. TV on mute in corner. Snooze almost hits. Phone rings. ‘Evening, ma’am. Your booster? I’m here in 20.’ Half-hour later, buzzer. Pierre buzzes them in. I slip on loose blouse over my thin skirt. No bra. Brush hair. Touch up lipstick. Peek window. Two guys battle blizzard in parking lot. 11 PM. Steps on stairs. Voices. Pierre not alone. Door opens. Boots stomp. Arctic suits drop on mat. I greet them. ‘Jeanine, meet Laurent.’ Young. Tall. Built. 6 feet. Black eyes. Black hair. Charming smile. Perfect teeth. Grip his hand. Blouse gaps open. He stares. Thin fabric teases my curves. Pierre winks. Smiles. I smile back. Play it up. ‘Coffee, Laurent? Pierre?’ ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Back to counter. Undo top buttons slow. Pour for Pierre. Glance at Laurent. He watches every move. Lean in. Deep neckline offers full view. Heavy tits bare. Nipples hard. Switch to Laurent. So close. His breath warms my skin. Knee brushes his. Hand on thigh. Hopes high. He fixates. Pierre gropes my ass under skirt. Naked there. Laurent scans through fabric. I fantasize. He’s hot. Too young? Nah. ‘Good, Laurent?’ ‘Perfect, ma’am. Gorgeous.’ Voice husky. Arm over Pierre’s shoulder. Chat his rough day. Gas. Oil stink. ‘Shower, Laurent? If time.’ Pierre nods. ‘Great idea, honey.’ He agrees. Stammers yes. I prep office shower. Eavesdrop kitchenette. ‘Your wife’s stunning, Pierre. Those eyes. Those tits.’ ’98s. 26?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘She’s preserved perfect. Go for it.’ My cue. Fresh makeup. Swap to sheer turquoise babydoll from drawer. Short. Vaporous. Tits strain nylon. Areolas show. Nipples poke. Pierre grins. ‘Perfect. He’ll devour.’ Whistle from shower. Grab towel. Peek. Naked. Facing me. Drying hair. Cock soft. Childlike. Pierre nudges. I enter. Eyes lock. Mine drop to his bushy groin. He gawks. Tits. Thighs parted. Back to tits. Magic. Cock wakes. Lengthens. Thickens. Hardens. Gland pops red. Proud. He grabs my hand. To shaft. I peel foreskin gentle. Kneel. Lips near. ‘Bedroom? Conference room better.’ Pierre nude. Firm for 64. Room dim. Lock clicks. Printer faint. He lifts babydoll. Heat presses ass. Hands on belly. Tits. Feet. Pierre smiles stiff. Pussy drips. New fire. Naked on table edge. Back. Feet down. Laurent kneels. Lips trail thighs. Belly. Navel. Groin. Fingers probe ass. Middle deep in hole. Pierre kneads tits. I guide head to fire. Tongue laps hungry. He sits. Legs over his. Slow thrust. Fills perfect. Lube good. Pierre snaps pic. Just insertion. I nod. Switch. Me on lap. Pierre guides cock home. ‘Heavy tits, Jeanine. Firm.’ Hands worship. Pierre tongues clit. Slow deep pumps. Then fast. Slips out. Pierre sucks it. Laurent moans. Back in me. I ride reverse cowgirl. Control pace. Hands on chest. His eyes black fire. Pierre fists ass. Double bliss. I cum hard. He floods. Hot jets. Collapse. His hands knead back. Ass. Cum leaks. Pierre rims me. I scoop Laurent’s load. Taste. Husband’s cock huge. Slides easy. Fucks steady. I crave more. Between them. Suck Laurent soft. Revives fast. Tongue swirls. Pre-cum pearls. Suck half. Hand pumps. Jets coat throat. Youth power. Clean him. Then Pierre. Thick spurts. Swallow grateful. 2:40 AM. Laurent dresses. Peignoir loose. ‘Come back anytime.’ I whisper, ‘Legs open too.’ Kiss. Finger ass. His bulge hard. Couch. Skirt up. Legs high. Penetrates deep. Long stamina. Double orgasm. Pierre next. Revived. Fucks wild. Two weeks later, full nights. Repeat bliss.