Printer hums relentlessly in the corner. Coffee scent clings to the air, mixing with my sharp perfume. Open-space buzzes. Colleagues click mice, phones ring. I shuffle dossiers. Xavier’s here again. Monthly visit. Sales rep eyes lock on mine. Heat rises. Heart pounds. Ambitious me, climbing ranks. But this forbidden rush? Irresistible. Started at Patricia’s wedding party. Pushed desks. Champagne flows. We dance slow. His hands firm. Hotel after. Cock deep. Jizz on tits. Addictive. Monthly now. Quickies in shadows. Today, Friday RTT. No shopping lie. Real meeting. Him pushing. Me resisting? Doubtful. Glance. He nods to conference room. I grab files. Pretend work. Door swings. Click. Locked. Breath catches. Outside, printer whirs. Covers us. His hands yank skirt up. Panties rip aside. ‘Fuck your married cunt, Lisa,’ he growls. Wet already. Fingers plunge. I gasp. Desk edge bites skin. Cock out. Thick. Veins pulse. Shove in raw. No condom. Thrusts brutal. Desk rattles. Papers fly. Moan stifled. ‘Harder, stud. Own this office pussy.’ Coffee breath mixes sweat. Perfume smears. Clicks outside. Someone passes. Thrill spikes. Adrenaline pure. Hierarchy crumbles. I’m boss here, but his slut. Balls slap. Gush inside. Climax rips. Legs shake. He pulls out. Cum drips thighs. Quick wipe. Skirt down. Blouse tucked. Hair smoothed. Perfume spray. Unlock. Click. Out. Smile pro. ‘Great sync on orders.’ Back to desk. Mouse clicks resume. No one suspects. Luxure hidden. Serious facade. But pussy throbs. Reminder. Year ago, confessed to François. He forgave. Baby plans. Vacations wild. Anal even. Now Xavier harasses. Texts. Calls. Bureau. Home. Fear François knows. Told him shopping with Lucie, Monique. Lies stack. He suspects. Repels bed. Tonight perturbed. But this? Last time. Tell him stop. Face to face. He grabs hand. I pull. ‘No, Xavier. Love my husband.’ Door presence. Turn. François. Eyes meet. ‘Noooon!’ Alliance drops. He flees. Heart shreds. Chase car. Beg. He drives off. Home empty. Explain futile. He packs. ‘Lies.’ Gone. Weeks agony. Alone. Wine nights. Work sick leave. Past haunts. Party dance. Hotel bliss. Sucked him greedy. Fucked senseless. Doggy orgasms. Guilt hit. Confessed. Forgiven. Bliss. Now this. Isabelle right. Should tell him. Brussels move. Distance. Then her voice. Grand-Place. Truth spills. Harassment real. Two months hell. Met to end. He believes now? Screams in car. ‘I love you Lisa!’ Back. Trust rebuilds. Baby soon. But office thrill? Lingers. Forbidden forever.