Vincent’s office door clicks shut behind me. Lock snaps. Printer hums in the corner, spitting paper. Coffee aroma hits, sharp and bitter, mixing with my vanilla perfume. Tension coils tight. I’m here early, skirt hugging my thighs, black stay-ups peeking. Chemisier sheer, buttons straining over my 90C tits. Vincent grins from his desk. Mouse clicks echo. ‘Elisa, you look fuckable today.’ His voice low, hungry. We chat orders, France to abroad. But eyes lock. No dossiers open. Heart races. Adrenaline spikes—the risk of getting caught fuels me.
He stands. Circles behind. Breath hot on my neck. Hands slide jacket off. I uncross legs. Dim ups whisper against skin. He kisses collarbone. I tilt head, moan soft. Fingers tangle in his hair. Full mouths clash. Tongues duel. Sloppy wet. His palms cup tits through blouse. Buttons pop one by one. Click. Click. Nipples harden. He gropes between breasts, down to stay-up lace. Stops. Eyes burn. I spread wider. String soaks. Fingers rub clit through fabric. Pull it down. Bare pussy glistens.
The Building Tension
Vincent strips to waist. Cock springs out, thick. I drop to knees. Suck deep. Gagging slurps fill room. His fingers plunge my slit. Juices drip. Door? No knock yet. Thrill builds. Then shadows. Door creaks? No— they enter quiet. Christophe, HR guy, lean white. And the deputy, tall black stud, muscles rippling. Pants unzip. Three cocks now. I rotate. Lips stretch. Saliva strings. Black shaft veiny, huge. Deepthroat him. Gags echo over printer drone.
On desk now. Four paws. Vincent slams in pussy first. Head snaps back. Gasp. Black cock in mouth. Christophe kneads swinging tits. Bounce. Bounce. They swap. Holes filled. Rotate. Grunts. Slaps. Desk creaks under thrusts. Christophe lies back. I straddle. Sink on his dick. Ride hard. Black in mouth. Vincent rims ass. Tongue probes. Fingers stretch. Lube? Spit. He mounts. Double penetration. Full. Stuffed. Pussy and ass clench cocks. Rhythm syncs. Bang. Bang. Five minutes of fire. Sweat drips. Coffee scent turns musky.
The Explosive Release
They pull out. I sprawl on desk. Black between legs. Legs hoisted high. Vincent and Christophe hold ankles. He pistons deep. Guttural moans. Head lolls off edge. He withdraws. Jerks. Cum jets on belly. Hot ropes. Thick. Visible. Vincent face-fucks. Christophe strokes over tits. They erupt together. Mouth edge glazed. Tits painted sticky. We kiss sloppy. Bodies freeze. Panting. Printer still hums.
Shower later. Vestiaires steam. Soap away cum. Re-dress. Skirt smooth. Blouse buttons tight. Makeup fresh. Perfume sprays over coffee ghost. Back to game. Meetings wait. No trace. Smile professional. Heart pounds wild secret. They join for resto. Drop me hotel. ‘Goodnight, Elisa.’ Door shuts. Alone. Buzzing. Husband waits home. Two days. He’ll fuck me tender. But this? My fuel. Forbidden rush. No regrets.