Chloe

Friday arrived with the usual morning pressure already cranked to an eleven. Chris had managed a perfunctory release in the shower, but his balls, relentless factories that they were, were already churning out the next batch. He was half-hard just sitting at his desk, the fabric of his trousers a constant, maddening friction. He was scrolling through emails, trying to look busy, when Melanie's head popped around his door frame.

"Ten o'clock, Chris. Conference room B. Chloe's here."

Chris's heart gave a little thump of excitement. He stood up, adjusting himself with a practiced gesture, and followed Melanie down the hall. The conference room was bright and sterile, dominated by a large oak table. Sitting at the far end, looking completely at ease, was Chloe.

She was... a lot. A cascade of honey-blonde hair tumbled over a blazer that was straining at the buttons over what was clearly a very impressive chest. Her skirt was short, her smile was sharp, and her eyes, a startling shade of green, swept over him from head to crotch and back again with an appraising, almost predatory gleam.

"Chloe, this is Chris," Melanie said, making the introductions. "Chris, Chloe will be your... coordinator for today."

Chloe stood up and extended a hand. "A pleasure," she purred. Her grip was firm. "Melanie has filled me in on the particulars. High-output, low-refractory period, and a need for immediate, thorough... drainage."

Chris felt his face flush, but his cock, never one for subtlety, gave a hard twitch of approval. "That's... one way to put it."

"I'm a professional, Chris," Chloe said, releasing his hand and gesturing to the chair next to her. "My job is to ensure your comfort and productivity. So, why don't we get started? The sooner I see what we're working with, the sooner I can calibrate my technique."

Melanie clapped her hands together. "Excellent! I'll leave you to it. Just... try to aim for the tile floor, not the server rack. The cleanup last time was a nightmare." She winked and shut the door.

Chris looked at Chloe, who was already shrugging off her blazer to reveal a tight, low-cut top. "So," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "Do you, uh, have a questionnaire or something?"

Chloe laughed, a low, throaty sound. "Honey, the only questionnaire I need is the one your dick is about to give me. Now, are you going to get that out, or am I going to have to extract it?"

That was all the encouragement Chris needed. He unzipped his fly, and his cock sprang free, already rock-hard and leaking a steady stream of pre-cum. Chloe's eyes widened, a genuine look of impressed surprise on her face. "Well, hello," she breathed. "The agency wasn't exaggerating."

She sank to her knees on the plush carpet in one smooth, practiced motion, not bothering to remove her skirt. She looked up at him from under her lashes. "Alright, big guy. Let's see what you've got stored up for me."

She didn't waste any time. Her mouth was hot and wet, and she took him in with an expertise that made his knees buckle. She worked him with a furious, suctioning intensity, her head bobbing, one hand cupping and gently rolling his heavy, aching balls. The pressure that had been building all morning intensified tenfold, coiling at the base of his spine like a spring.

"Fuck, Chloe," he grunted, his hands tangling in her hair. "I'm gonna... it's a lot..."

She pulled back just enough to speak, her lips swollen and shiny. "Don't you dare hold back on me, Chris. Give me everything. I want to see what a 'hazardous spill' really looks like."

Her words were the final trigger. The spring snapped. A guttural roar tore from Chris's throat as the first massive contraction hit. It wasn't a spurt; it was a torrent. A thick, ropy blast of cum fired out of him so hard it splattered audibly against the back of Chloe's throat. She choked slightly, but recovered instantly, swallowing as a second, equally powerful jet flooded her mouth. It was too much, too fast. Cum leaked from the corners of her lips, dribbling down her chin.

He wasn't done. A third, fourth, and fifth rope of jizz shot out, coating her face, her neck, and the front of her top.

It was like a fire hose, an unending flood of semen that seemed to have no end. He watched, mesmerized, as his load painted her, the sheer volume of it absurd and incredible. Finally, with a shuddering gasp, the flow slowed to a trickle, and then stopped.

Chris slumped back in his chair, his legs trembling. He felt boneless, utterly drained in the best possible way.

Chloe sat back on her heels, wiping a glob of cum from her cheek with her thumb and then licking it clean thoughtfully. "Wow," she said, her voice a little raspy. "Okay. That's definitely a Category 5 event." She looked down at her soaked top. "Good thing I brought a spare. This one's a write-off." She grinned up at him, her face a glistening, happy mess. "So, same time after lunch? Or do you need a top-up before then?"