Holt’s Playthings

Holt stands over you and Amy like a king surveying his filthy little subjects. His thick cock rests heavy across both of your tongues as you kneel side by side, faces already glistening with the sticky mix of cum, pussy juice, ass leakage, and whiskey.

“Open wider,” he repeats, voice calm but commanding.

You and Amy obey instantly. Holt pushes forward, feeding his cock into Amy’s mouth first. She takes him eagerly, moaning around his shaft as she sucks him deep, her eyes watering. After ten seconds he pulls out and moves to you, sliding his slick cock straight into your mouth without warning.

You taste Amy’s spit and the remnants of everything else on him. Holt fucks your face with slow, deliberate thrusts, one hand on the back of your head.

“Very good, Peralta. I never would have guessed you’d look so natural with a cock in your throat.”

He alternates between the two of you - five strokes in Amy’s mouth, five in yours - while casually continuing to speak.

“Your next assignment is going to be particularly creative,” he says, voice perfectly steady even as Amy gags on him. “At 6:15 PM, the entire squad is having a brief meeting in the bullpen. During that meeting, Santiago will be seated directly to my left. Peralta, you will be on my right.”

Holt pulls his cock out of your mouth, strings of spit connecting it to your lips.

“During the meeting, Santiago will quietly remove her plug and hand it to me under the table. I will then insert it into Peralta’s ass while we discuss quarterly statistics. You will both remain completely silent and professional, no matter how full or how much leaks out.”

Amy whimpers loudly around his cock at the command.

Holt smiles - thin and dangerous.

“After the meeting ends, both of you will crawl under the conference table and clean my cock and balls with your tongues while I give out assignments. Whoever makes me cum first gets to decide whose drink Terry receives tomorrow morning.”

He grips both of your hair tightly and starts fucking your faces more aggressively, alternating rapidly.

“But first… I’m going to mark my property.”

Holt pulls out and strokes himself furiously. He aims at Amy’s face first - thick ropes of hot cum splatter across her glasses, her cheek, and into her open mouth. He then turns and unloads the rest across your face, painting your forehead and tongue.

He milks the last drops onto both of your tongues.

“Leave it there,” he orders. “Do not wipe any of it off. You will wear my cum on your faces for the rest of the shift. If anyone asks, tell them it’s a new skincare product.”

Amy is trembling with lust, cum dripping from her chin onto her blouse. You can barely think straight.

Holt tucks himself away, perfectly composed once again.

“One final touch.”

He picks up the remote for Amy’s plug and turns it all the way up.

Amy moans loudly and nearly collapses. The plug is now violently vibrating and pumping the filthy mixture deep into her ass while Holt’s fresh load dries on her face.

“Back to your desks. Both of you. And try not to drip on the floor.”

As you and Amy leave his office - faces glazed, bodies wrecked, and minds broken with lust - you realize the game has evolved into something far darker and more addictive than either of you ever imagined.

Amy walks back to her desk very slowly, thighs shaking, Holt’s cum clearly visible on her face if anyone actually looked closely.

She texts you with trembling fingers:

Amy: I’m going to cum in my chair before the meeting even starts.

Amy: I’ve never been this wet in my entire life.

You look across at her cum-streaked face, then down at the remote in your hand.

The meeting is in forty minutes.