And she's just getting deeper into the hole

"You know, I understand that you might be enjoying yourself, but I said you were done after that picture, Vanessa. So if you wouldn't mind..."

As if! Vanessa glared and immediately dropped the large brown orb from her mouth. Too quickly, it slapped wetly against her own chest, bouncing in place until it settled.

Brand's little jokes, the amusement he was taking at this awful thing he was forcing her through was too much. It kept throwing her off balance. Almost definitely by design... a design made all the more perfect, more aggravating because the asshole probably thought Vanessa's torment really was genuinely funny. She could kill him for that.

"Before you get on your knees, Vanessa, I'm just dying to know something..."

As if 'getting on her knees' wasn't enough. If he wanted to know something he could just ask it, and if he was lucky Vanessa wouldn't just spit in his face.

"Are you wet?"

Uggh, of course he would ask that. Of all the crude -

Brand didn't wait for an answer, his strong, thick hand was in between Vanessa's dark thighs, snaking up her tight black business skirt. She gasped at the intrusion of her most intimate space, done without any warning, and pushed both hands down against Brand's hard forearm while clamping her thighs shut.

"Brand, S-Stop." She had been too slow. Again. His hand was almost there, and even though Vanessa's whole body was being lifted up, onto her toes, it was getting even closer. It, "Ahh! Mister- Mister Barrington! Please!" It touched her, and Vanessa could feel her moisture, far more arousal than she thought squishing in between her legs as Brand pressed his fingers on her soft cleft, and then more he **** his fingers in between her legs and cupped her pubis with his palm, squeezing, literally grabbing her by the pussy.

"U-Uhh," A humiliating sound. A protest, but one that barely sounded like it escaped Vanessa's open lips. With her hands still pressing down, Vanessa's shoulders pushed her chest together and made an inviting expanse of bare, dark-skinned cleavage for her opponent. Brand took advantage with his free hand, groping her front, sliding his hand around her spit-covered breasts, gripping and mauling and -

"Oh my, Miss Lockley," Dimly, Vanessa was aware that he hadn't addressed her by her last name since first entering her office; and that saying it while in this position, reminding her of the respect that she should have received made her own now-apparent arousal even more humiliating, "You're a bit of a slut for a colored old milf, aren't you? Stop struggling and spread your legs, and I'll stop if you ask me very, very nicely."

Vanessa felt so weak. So powerless. Only moments ago she was promising herself that she wouldn't... and moments before that she was just going about her day. She **** back tears, swallowed the lump in her throat. She would need to be strong, still, even, o-oh. Vanessa suppressed a moan. Even like this. And she wouldn't - she wouldn't let Brand make her cry.

She needed to end this quickly. Vanessa let her hands go loose, behind her, on her desk. She, oh God, she spread her legs, allowing Brand free access. His hand grasped at her, massaging her soft, wet privates. Vanessa parted her lips, her teeth, and clenched the muscles in her throat for a moment to suppress a moan from escaping her open mouth. She looked seriously into Brand's twinkling, gray eyes.

"Please, Mister Barrington, stop touching me there..."

"Not good enough, Miss Lockley, try harder," Brand's hand went in. It... it was moving aside her panties. Without her legs together, with her hands on her desk, Vanessa was defenseless to stop... no... she could feel his fingers caressing her damp, dark curls...

"A- P-Please, Mister Barrington, I'm begging you, please d-don't," A finger slipped easily into her vagina, and Vanessa nearly lost it.

"I don't think that's going to work. Try again, Vanessa... unless maybe you want me to continue? I think she does..."

Vanessa wracked her mind and after realizing that she was... she **** her hips to stop humping back. What was wrong with her? What more did Brand want from her? There must be something...

There was. It came to her. He wouldn't stop until she...

Vanessa reached out a hand, and moved it forward to the tent in Brand's pants. She found the hard head of the thick thing inside, and gripped it firmly. Stroking through the stiff fabric Vanessa found her terrible, degrading words, and breathed them out while staring into Brand's eyes, allowing herself to hump again, deliberately, grinding her hips hard.

"Please, Mister Barrington, if you stop fingering my cunt and touching my t-tits," The words were so disgusting it was painful, but she had to get him to stop before she... "then I'll get on my knees and lick and slurp the cum out of your Thick," stroke, "White," stroke, "Cock," stroke.

Vanessa didn't even know where those words came from. She had never... Would never... But she did. And God she was so wet she didn't even know if she wanted Brand to stop.

"'Atta girl. I knew you could negotiate with a little incentive."

Brand slowly withdrew his hand from Vanessa's twitching, wet hole and gently replaced her panties for her, before moving his hand up and crudely wiping her wetness on her unmoving, unprotesting lips. He stepped back to the seat that Cheryl had brought in and sat, slouching, his lower body almost hanging off.

"Let's see what those thick black lips can do with my, as you put it, thick white cock."