Conference room buzzed. Merger party wrapped. Printer hummed nonstop. Coffee stench mixed with my slutty perfume. Open space eyes darted. CEO Jupiter whispered to HR Junon. ‘Jupinou,’ she teased. He glanced nervous. Slapped his hand off her tit.
Minerva marched up. Suit stiff as armor. Lance-pen tapped. ‘Venus and Mars again? Whole floor gossips.’ Me, in sheer blouse. Mars groped my tits. ‘Fuck you now, babe.’ Pussy wet already.
Tension in the Conference Room
Door creaked. Eris stormed in. Frumpy intern, snubbed hag. Cape hid saggy tits, sparse bush. Golden apple trophy hurled on table. ‘For the hottest bitch!’ Cackled.
Junon lunged. Grabbed my hair. Yanked me down. Minerva choked her. I bit Junon’s arm. Screams. Blouses ripped. Tits bounced free. Suits shredded. Pussies flashed.
Mercury bellowed. ‘Vote? Bullshit, biased.’ Gods parted us. ‘Paris. That intern fuckmachine. Banged every hole – interns, cleaners, coffee girl.’ Jupiter nodded. Gut twisted. HR rules? Fuck ’em.
Storage room. Cluttered like shepherd hut. Door locked. Click sharp. Heart slammed. Outside, mouse clicks, phones rang. Coffee drip. Perfume clung.
Mercure smirked. ‘Touch, fuck, judge. Full access. Immunity.’ Lights dimmed. Paris dozed on boxes. We stripped. Junon regal, full tits. Minerva tight virgin bod. Me, perfect curves, dripping.
He gawked. Cock tented pants. ‘Hands first.’ Junon moaned as fingers pinched nipples hard. Dove to clit. She flooded. Pushed her on crate-desk. Pants down. Monster cock out. Gasps. Slammed her cunt. Desk shook. Bangs echoed. She howled, ‘Better than Jupiter!’ Jets of cum. She bucked wild.
Explosion in the Storage Room
Minerva fingered frantic. Paris knelt. Tongue lashed her slit. Tsunami orgasm. She collapsed. Grabbed cock, deepthroated. Gorged cum, no spill.
Junon ate my pussy. Tongue expert. I screamed. Head thrashed. Paris mounted. Brutal thrust. Violated deep. I raped him back. Others 69’d nearby. Juices everywhere.
My turn supreme. Sucked godlike. Ocean bliss. Won apple.
Cassandre buzzed later. Coworker sis-type. ‘Don’t chase Helen client. Fuck me instead.’ Incest taboo. Company charter strict. Rejected his stories. No go.
Boardroom trial. Jupiter raged. ‘Your fucking charter caused Trojan merger war!’ Us mods hauled in. Blanchette goat-mascot lawyer bleated.
Eris moral cop ended it. ‘Hide your filth.’ Lights out.
Back to open space. Skirt smoothed. Cum trickled thighs. Blouse buttoned. Sat meetings. Serene smile. Printer whirred. No clue. Adrenaline pure. Hierarchy lust. Next risk calls.