The office door clicks shut, locked tight. Printer hums in the corner, spitting out invoices. Coffee aroma mixes with Marjorie’s sweet perfume, thick in the air. We’re alone in my restaurant back office after the shower. Employees gone, no service tonight. We sink into the couch corner, glasses clinking. Marjorie’s eyes sparkle, cheeks flushed. Her short dress rides up, bare thighs spread wide. Nipples poke through thin fabric. My new dress hugs me tight, pussy still throbbing from earlier.
She leans in. ‘Kris, that was insane with you.’ Her voice husky. I grin. ‘Want more? Something harder.’ Her breath catches. ‘Like what?’ I mention Dom, the sign guy. Big, rough. Her exes were lame. ‘Trust me?’ She nods, bites lip. Phone buzzes—three texts, he’s here in minutes. Silence falls. Door rattles softly outside. Mouse clicks as I fake-check emails, heart pounding.
The Building Tension
She tenses. ‘What if I back out?’ ‘No pressure, babe.’ She melts into me, hot lips on my neck, tits crushing mine. Printer whirs again. Coffee scent sharpens the thrill. Glass taps—Dom’s here. I slip out, door whooshes shut. ‘Not just drinks,’ I whisper. ‘Marjorie’s ripe. You in?’ His grin widens. ‘Fuck yes.’ Bulge already strains his jumpsuit.
Back inside, intros. Small talk over drinks. His eyes devour her thighs, my cleavage. Laughter echoes off file cabinets. Tension coils. I stand behind her, hands on shoulders. Fingers trail skin, slip strap down. She shivers. ‘So soft,’ I purr to him. Undo buttons slow. One tit pops free, nipple hard. His gaze burns.
‘Dom, taste?’ He kneels, mouth on her breast. She gasps. My kiss swallows her moans. His hands hike her dress, fingers plunge wet pussy. Tongue laps her clit. She bucks. Office smells sex now, coffee forgotten. I pinch her tits, she claws my dress. Her orgasm hits hard—screams muffled, body shakes. Printer spits paper like applause.
The Raw Explosion
Fresh drinks. She’s bolder, thighs splayed. ‘More?’ I guide her hands to his zipper. Chest hair tickles her palms. She grinds nipples into it. Zipper rasps down. His cock springs out—huge, veiny monster. ‘Holy shit,’ she whispers. Fingers wrap it, stroke slow. Kneels, tongue flicks pre-cum. Lips stretch around head. I finger her from behind, tits in hands.
He groans, thrusts shallow. She gags, swallows deep. I egg her on. ‘Make him cum, slut.’ He does—hot spurts down her throat. Cock stays rock-hard. I lay her on desk, legs wide. Tongue her pussy while he sucks tits. She begs. ‘Fuck me!’ He lines up, rubs clit. Slow push—her eyes roll. ‘So full!’ He pounds now, desk creaks. Papers scatter.
I kiss her, twist nipples. ‘Cum on his fat cock.’ He growls, floods her. She screams, quakes. He pulls out, slick shaft to me. I suck clean, tasting them both. Post-orgasm haze. Door locked, world out. We straighten dresses, wipe sweat. Coffee pours fresh. She smiles. ‘Again sometime?’ Desk papers realigned. Back to ‘normal’ like nothing happened.