Open space buzzes. Printer whirs endlessly. Mouse clicks echo. Coffee stench mixes with my sharp perfume. I glance across desks. There he is. Bigbo. Tiny IT guy. Short as hell. Everyone calls him gnome. Laughs behind his back. But he’s the best fixer. Swords? Nah, servers and laptops. Forges code like magic. Women smirk at him. Men ignore now.
He stabbed the sales manager’s thigh with a letter opener. After his wife groped Bigbo’s crotch at the holiday party. Huge bulge. Manager swung a mock sword—his oversized sales award. Bigbo bolted. Pants tight. Village turned. Women eye him hungry now. Smiles shift. Like they know.
Rising Tension in the Open Space
I do. Daughter of the CEO. Meiwen. Ambitious. Trapped in hierarchy. Stress boils. I crave the rush. Forbidden heat. Breakroom calls. My escape. Door swings. Click. Locked. No one comes here afternoons.
Fontaine trickles like a cascade. I strip. Robe? Nah, pencil skirt hikes up. Blouse off. Massive tits bounce free. Elf-perfect curves. Hourglass. No hair. Smooth. Skin glows. Hand dives between thighs. Fingers circle clit. Nectar flows. Moans build. Hips buck.
Rustle. Behind vending machine. Him. Bigbo spies. Flat on floor. Cock out. Massive. Dwarfs his tiny frame. Wood-hard. He strokes slow. Eyes bulge. I arch. Fingers plunge pussy. Faster. He pumps. Grunts silent.
I cum hard. Scream echoes. Forest? Office hums cover. Stand. Grab purse. Necklace off. Mom’s heirloom. Pink gem sparkles. Pot of lube. Silver jar. Kneel doggy. Ass up. Face down. Fingers scoop cream. Circle tight hole. Push in. Index first. Then middle. Stretch. Violate my ass.
Blade? Nah. I spin. Catch him. “Who the fuck are you, little man?” Cock throbs. Fear? No. Lust. “Bigbo, ma’am.” “Jerking to me?” Hand grips shaft. Can’t circle full. “Very… interesting.”
Explosive Release and Cool Mask
Back to position. Ass offered. “Fuck it. Now.” He hesitates. Gland presses rosebud. Sucks him in. Tight fight. I slam back. Rip in deep. Balls slap. “Pound my ass, gnome! Harder!” Too tight. He groans. Cums buckets. Fills me. Pulls out. Drips.
Tongue darts. Lick clean. Every drop. Salty. His. Sudden. Eyes narrow. Phone buzzes. Dad’s advisor texts. Horses? Suits on heels. Knock pounds. “Princess! CEO demands you! Deal’s on!”
Panic. “Hide!” He dives. I snatch robe—blouse. Tear front for edge. Jump up. Necklace drops. Grab phone. Unlock door. Suits swarm. Black suits. Horses? Company SUVs wait. “Take me. Fast.”
Mount up. Glance back. Smile. Wink. He peeks. Heart pinches. Gallop out. Parking lot roars.
Back at desk later. Neck bare. Necklace gone. Shit. He has it? Gotta find. War looms. Merger bloodbath. Dad’s ruthless. But that rush… adrenaline pure. Adjust skirt. Perfume lingers. Coffee cold. Next meeting. Mask on. Pro again. Lust hidden. Till next thrill.