Conference Room

Isabella kept walking. The locker room door was thirty feet ahead. Ryan closed the distance in a few long steps, caught her by the elbow, and steered her into the dark glass hallway before she could pull free.

“Let go of me.”

“In a minute.”

The first conference room was unlocked. He shouldered the door open and pushed her through it. Her hip hit the edge of the long table. Chairs rattled. The door clicked shut behind them.

No window on the hall. A blank screen. The leftover smell of dry-erase marker and old coffee.

Isabella shoved at his chest. “Get off me.”

Ryan set what was left of his cup on the table and pinned her there with his hips. One hand stayed on her arm. The other braced beside her. Up close he was all size. Broad shoulders, dark skin, a forearm thick enough that her wrist looked small in his grip.

“You can yell if you want. These rooms are quite soundproof.”

“Ryan. Stop.”

His free hand left the table and settled on her waist, palm flat on bare skin just above the waistband of the black bottoms.

“Don’t.”

He ignored that. His hand slid up under the ribbed crop, slow, until it covered her breast. He squeezed, thumb dragging over her through the thin fabric, then pushed the top aside and groped her bare.

Isabella shoved his wrist. He did not move it.

“Still soft,” he muttered. “Same as last time.”

“Take your hand off me.”

He groped her harder instead, kneading, pinching, using the table behind her to keep her from stepping away. His other hand dropped to her hip and hooked in the black bottoms, tugging them down an inch so he could grip her ass.

Isabella twisted hard enough that a chair scraped. Ryan shoved her flatter against the table and yanked the one-shoulder top the rest of the way down. Both tits spilled out. He stared for a second, then used both hands on them, squeezing until the soft flesh bulged between his fingers.

“Ryan—stop—I’m serious—”

“I know you are.” He ducked his head and dragged his mouth over one nipple, sucking hard enough to make her jerk. His other hand stayed on her ass, pulling her against the thick line of his cock through his shorts.

Isabella’s nails dug into his shoulder. He did not lift his head. He switched to the other breast, licking, biting just enough to sting, leaving her skin wet. When he came up for air he was still smiling.

“Daniel get to do this this morning?” he asked.

“Don’t talk about him.”

He shoved the black bottoms down her thighs. The cool air of the room hit her. Ryan’s hand went between her legs without waiting, two fingers pressing through the last scrap of fabric, then under it. Isabella gasped and tried to close her knees. He forced them back apart with his hip and kept touching her, rough and sure.

“See?” he muttered against her ear. “You’re already in here. You might as well take it.”

He turned her before she could answer. One hard push and her chest hit the table. Papers slid. The gold necklace tapped the wood. Ryan kicked her feet apart, yanked the bottoms to her knees, and shoved his shorts down just far enough.

His cock was thick, dark, heavy against her pale thigh. The contrast was stark in the low light. He wrapped a hand around the base and dragged the fat head up between her legs, grazing both her thighs.

“Look at that,” he said. “My fucking black dick against this little white whore. You feel how much bigger I am than him?”

He moves it up and down against her soft powder light thighs.

"Fucking answer me, you snowbunny bitch" He slaps her right ass cheek hard leaving a red handprint.

She mumbles out in pain, "please don't, stop it, Ryan"

"Imma have to punish you if you don't say it-" he moves his dick closer to her pussy.

"okay, yes, your dick is way bigger and better, okay? Happy?"

"I know. Enjoy!"

“Ryan—don’t—”

He pushed in anyway.

One long, heavy thrust buried him to the hilt. Isabella’s mouth opened against the table. He was thick enough that the stretch forced a broken sound out of her even as she tried to stay quiet. Ryan groaned and stayed there a second, hands locked on her waist, then pulled almost out and slammed back in.

“Fuck. Still so tight.” He licked his lips as he thrust in and out of her. “Pretty white girl with a lewd body. I’m surprised it’s still this tight. I figured a body like this would already be stretched out by taking hella cocks.”

He pulled out of her, letting her breathe for a second. He spat on his dick, the shine catching on dark skin, and shoved it back in where he wanted it.

He started fucking her in deep, steady strokes that rocked the table into the wall. Each impact shoved her forward. Her tits dragged across the surface. The wet slap of skin filled the little room. His dark hands looked huge on her pale hips, fingers digging in hard enough to mark.

“Please—slower—”

“No.” He gathered her hair and pulled her head back. “You had slow at home with your white boy. You get it rough with me.”

He went harder. The table legs scraped. Isabella’s fingers slipped on the wood. Ryan reached under her and groped her tits while he pounded into her, squeezing in time with every thrust.

“This what you came to the gym for?” he said against her ear.

“I came to take a class—”

“And now you’re bent over a table with my cock in you. Same thing. You should have just came to me for some stretching”

He shifted his angle and drove deeper. Isabella cried out once, then bit it back. Ryan laughed under his breath and kept that pace, using her without any care for the sound. His hips slammed against her ass. The black bottoms stayed trapped around her knees. Sweat ran down her spine.

“Look at this,” he muttered, staring down at where he was splitting her open. The thick dark length of him disappeared into her pale cunt with every stroke, then came back out shining. “Pretty little professor bent over a film table, ass up, taking black dick like a slut.”

He spanked her once, hard, the crack loud in the small room. Her cheek flushed red against his dark hand. Isabella jerked and tried to push up. He shoved her back down by the neck, one broad palm pinning her.

“Stay there. I want to watch it go in.”

He pulled almost all the way out so she could feel the fat head stretch her again, then slammed home. The wet sound was filthy. Spit mixed on his shaft and dripped onto the floor between her feet.

“Please—Ryan—”

“Please what? Please fuck me harder? Please fill this white cunt?” He gathered her hair tighter and yanked her head back so her back arched. In the dark screen on the wall he could see her face, mouth open, eyes wet, and his dark body covering hers.

He reached under her and mauled both tits, squeezing them so hard the soft flesh spilled between his fingers. He pinched a nipple and twisted while he kept pounding her.

“These were in my mouth five minutes ago. Now they’re swinging while I fuck you. You like being used by me in a room with the door shut?”

“No—”

“Liar.” He spat on the small of her back and watched it run down between her cheeks. Then he dragged his thumb through it and pressed the pad against her ass, not quite pushing in, just holding there while his cock kept driving into her cunt. “Next time I’m taking this too. You don’t get to walk around the gym in that little slut outfit and go home clean.”

Isabella’s fingers slipped on the table again. The gold necklace clicked against the wood every time he slammed into her. Her thighs were shaking. The black bottoms were stretched tight around her knees, trapping her open. Every thrust made the difference obvious: his size, his strength, the way he held her down with one hand and still fucked her deep. His dark cock kept disappearing into her pale cunt, wet and thick, the sound of it filthy in the little room.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say this pussy is mine.”

She shook her head, cheek stuck to the table, tears already running sideways into her hair. He fucked her harder, short brutal strokes that knocked the table into the wall. The force of him lifted her onto her toes. He took out his phone and held it up. The screen caught her bent over, tits out, his hips flush against her ass.

“Say it, or I send Daniel this picture I just took of us fucking. He’s going to think you are tainted with my black cock.”

“No!” Her voice cracked. She twisted, trying to hide her face, and he shoved her back down. “Don’t. He can’t know. Please, Ryan, don’t send that—”

“Then talk.” He kept the phone in one hand and kept fucking her with the other braced on her hip, watching himself on the screen, breathing hard, already too close. “Say it.”

“Okay, I’m yours. Please take it out, just don’t finish inside of me.”

Ryan groaned and leaned over her back, chest to her spine, mouth against her ear. His weight pinned her flat. He did not slow down. Sweat from his chest dripped onto her shoulder.

“Not enough.” His voice was rough, hips still slamming into her. “Say it right. Say this pussy belongs to me. Say you love black dick. You want my cum inside of you”

Isabella shook her head against the table. A sob broke out of her. “Ryan—don’t—please don’t finish in me—I’m begging you—”

“Say it.” He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so she had to hear every word, phone still hovering where she could see the photo of herself getting used. “Say this white pussy belongs to me. Say you love this black dick. Or I dump every drop in you and send you home to Daniel like that. Picture and all.”

“Please—not inside—please—I’ll say it, just pull out—”

He fucked her harder, the wet slap getting louder, his cock swelling thicker inside her. He was panting now, lost in it, grinding deep like he could not stop even if he wanted to.

“Say it.”

“It’s yours,” she sobbed. “This pussy belongs to you. I—I love black dick. Please don’t cum in me, Ryan, please, I’m asking you, don’t—”

“Too late.” He laughs.

He buried himself to the hilt and came anyway.

"NOOOOOO" She yelled

Thick pulses of cum flooded her. He held her down by the hair and the hip, phone still in his fist, grinding deep while he emptied himself, groaning against her ear the whole time. Isabella felt every spurt, hot and heavy, her body shaking under his weight as he kept going until he had nothing left. She was crying openly now, hands slipping on the wood, trying to push back and getting nowhere.

Only then did he pull out. A thick trickle followed immediately, running down her inner thigh and dripping onto the floor. He stayed over her for a second, breathing hard, looking at the mess, still hard enough that it twitched.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself. “That was good.”

He stood and pulled his shorts up. He looked at her still bent over the table, top down, bottoms at her knees, his cum leaking out of her, face wet, shoulders shaking.

“You said it,” he said. “And I still finished in you. Remember that next time you try to bargain.”

He checked the photo once, smiled, and put the phone away. Then he picked up the coffee cup, checked the hall, and left her there.