It’s Leslie turn

A week had went by since Leslie and Craig had sex. It was just a normal Monday as Leslie arrived at work. She had a plan that she was going to put in place today. Her plan was to fuck or get fuck by someone different in the office since Ben was on vacation. She didn’t know why but she thinks Craig was punishing her by not giving her sex this past week. She was so horny, She had made her mind up. She was gonna fuck somebody today.

Leslie adjusted the hem of her skirt as she stepped off the elevator, her heels clicking against the polished floor. The office buzzed with morning chatter, but her attention darted between coworkers like a predator sizing up prey.

Her fingers twitched against her thigh as she passed Jason from accounting—his broad shoulders straining against his dress shirt. Then her gaze flicked to Naomi at the copier, bending just enough to make Leslie bite her lip.

The break room door swung open, and there stood Marcus, leaning against the counter with a steaming cup in his hand. His eyes met hers, dark and lazy, as he took a slow sip. Leslie's pulse jumped.

Marcus maybe but she needed to do some more thinking. Naomi or Joey the new young intern in the mail room

Leslie lingered in the doorway, her fingers tightening around the strap of her purse as Marcus’ gaze dragged over her. The scent of coffee and his cologne—something woodsy with a hint of spice—wrapped around her, making her thighs press together. He smirked, slow and knowing, before turning to dump his cup in the sink. The muscles in his back flexed beneath his shirt, and Leslie’s breath hitched.

Across the room, Naomi straightened from the copier, her skirt riding up just enough to reveal the edge of lace at her thigh.

Leslie’s gaze flicked between them—Marcus’ lingering smirk, Naomi’s exposed lace, the way the overhead lights caught the sweat-slick hollow of Naomi’s cleavage where her blouse gaped open. Someone had bumped the thermostat again; heat pooled low in Leslie’s belly as she watched Naomi’s breasts shift with every breath.

Marcus leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his biceps straining the sleeves of his dress shirt. His eyes dipped to Leslie’s mouth, then lower, tracing the outline of her nipples beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. The air between them thickened. Naomi turned, catching Leslie staring—just as the break room door swung open again.

Joey, the 19-year-old intern, shuffled in with a stack of mail clutched awkwardly against his chest. His too-big polo shirt wrinkled around his narrow shoulders, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he froze under the sudden weight of three pairs of eyes. Leslie’s pulse spiked.

Marcus let out a low chuckle, rolling his shoulders like a cat stretching in the sun. “Mail’s early,” he drawled, not looking away from Leslie.

Joey’s cheeks flushed pink as he fumbled with the envelopes. “Uh—yeah.

Leslie’s gaze raked over Joey—the way his fingers trembled around the envelopes, the soft curve of his throat, the way his jeans hung just low enough on his hips to make her wonder. I could fuck his young man’s brains out , she thought, biting the inside of her cheek.

Naomi cleared her throat, snapping Leslie’s attention back. A slow smirk curled her lips as she deliberately tugged her blouse lower, exposing the swell of one breast. “Joey, honey,” she purred, plucking an envelope from his hands, “you look flustered.”

Joey’s breath hitched, his knuckles whitening around the remaining mail as Naomi’s fingers brushed his. Leslie watched, her own skin tingling, as the intern’s gaze darted between Naomi’s exposed cleavage and the floor. Leslie left them in the break room and headed to her office.

Leslie’s settled in at her desk as the her work day began, she took a quick pic up her skirt she wasn’t wearing any panties today and she sent to her husband Craig. “ I’m so horny today I just might have to find me a dick or pussy to fuck today”.

Leslie’s phone buzzed almost instantly against the desk, the screen lighting up with Craig’s name. She exhaled sharply through her nose as she snatched it up, her thumb smearing against the glass. The message was short—too short—just three words blinking back at her:

"Do what you want."

Her stomach twisted. No emoji, no teasing follow-up, just that cold permission. The screen dimmed as her grip tightened. Across the office, Marcus’ laugh rumbled through the bullpen, deep and throaty. She could see him through the glass wall of her office, leaning over Naomi’s desk, one hand braced on the back of her chair.

Leslie’s phone buzzed again, the vibration skittering across her desk like an impatient finger tap. Craig’s new message glowed on the screen: "But remember my rules—take pictures and videos as you do it, my slut." Her pulse hammered at the base of her throat as she read it, the possessive edge in his words sending a slick throb between her thighs.

Through the glass wall, Marcus’ hand slid from Naomi’s chair to her shoulder, his thumb tracing the strap of her camisole. Leslie’s breath shallowed.

Leslie’s fingers drummed against her desk, the click-click of her nails sharp against the wood as Joey shuffled past her office door for the second time that morning. His sneakers squeaked against the tile—too new, too clean—and the way his shoulders hunched forward made her teeth sink into her lower lip.

She leaned back in her chair, letting her knees fall open just enough for the hem of her skirt to ride higher. Joey’s gaze flickered toward the movement before darting away, his throat working as he swallowed hard. The mail in his arms slipped, a single envelope fluttering to the floor.

Leslie stood slowly, her hips swaying as she rounded the desk.

Leslie bent over with deliberate slowness, her skirt riding up as she reached for the fallen envelope. The air conditioning whispered against her bare skin as the fabric slid past her thighs, exposing the smooth curve of her ass and the glistening pink folds of her pussy beneath. Joey's breath caught—she heard the sharp inhale, the way his sneakers scuffed backward half a step.

Her fingertips grazed the envelope just as his gaze did the same to her exposed flesh. She lingered there, letting him look, feeling the weight of his stare like fingertips tracing her.

Joey bolted from her office like a spooked deer, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound. Leslie straightened up slowly, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she adjusted her skirt—just enough to tease, not enough to cover. The envelope in her hand was forgotten, crumpled between her fingers as she exhaled, slow and deliberate.

Through the glass, she watched Joey fumble with the mail cart, his cheeks flushed, his knuckles tense. He nearly dropped another letter before catching it with a clumsy swipe. Leslie’s pulse throbbed between her thighs, hot and insistent. She licked her lips.

Leslie’s thighs pressed together as she strode toward the restroom, the dampness of her bare pussy lips clinging with every step. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, bleaching the hallway into something sterile and sharp—too bright for the heat coiling low in her stomach. She pushed through the door, the lock clicking behind her with a sound like a satisfied sigh.

The mirror showed her flushed cheeks, the slight part of her lips as she leaned against the sink. Her fingers skimmed up her thigh, under the hem of her skirt, and she exhaled sharply at the slickness already soaked as leaked down her thighs. A week without Craig. A week without being filled.

The restroom door swung shut behind her with a soft hydraulic sigh as Leslie turned toward the mail room, her heels clicking with purpose against the tile. The office air smelled faintly of toner and stale coffee, but beneath it—just there—lingered the salt-sweet musk of Joey’s nervous sweat from moments ago.

She slowed her steps as she neared the mail room’s frosted glass door, her fingertips brushing the handle, cool against her skin. Through the blurred pane, she could make out the hunch of Joey’s shoulders, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he rifled through envelopes with unsteady hands.

The door creaked as Leslie pushed it open, the sound making Joey jerk upright like a puppet on strings. His throat worked as his gaze flickered from her face to the damp spot darkening the front of her skirt and back again. "H-Hello, Mrs. St—"

"Now Joey," she purred, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind her, "you've worked here long enough. You can call me Leslie." The mailroom smelled of paper dust and the sharp tang of his nervous sweat. A bead of condensation slid down the water cooler beside them as she advanced, her hips rolling with each step until the toes of her pumps bumped against his scuffed sneakers.

Joey’s breath hitched as his gaze dropped—her top had come undone another button, the fabric gaping to reveal the lush swell of her 44DD breasts straining against the lace of her bra. A thin sheen of sweat glistened in the hollow between them, the scent of her perfume—something expensive and floral—mixing with the musk of her arousal. His fingers twitched at his sides, the envelopes in his hands crinkling under his tightening grip.

Leslie tilted her head, watching his pupils dilate as she deliberately rolled her shoulders, letting the weight of her tits shift, the lace edging of her bra just barely containing them.

Leslie turned with deliberate slowness, her fingers brushing the lock until it clicked—a sound that made Joey flinch. When she faced him again, his Adam's apple bobbed violently. "Joey," she murmured, stepping so close her perfume drowned out the scent of paper and toner, "do you like what you see?"

His lips parted, a strangled noise escaping as his gaze darted between her heaving chest and the damp fabric clinging to her thighs. A drop of sweat slid down his temple. Leslie traced the collar of his polo, her nail scraping the hollow of his throat, feeling his pulse hammer against her fingertip.

Joey’s breath hitched as his fingers twitched at his sides. “Mrs. Stone—I mean, Leslie—you have nice… breast—” The word choked out of him, strangled and reverent.

Leslie’s smirk deepened as she hooked a finger under the silk of her blouse. “Oh, thank you, Joey,” she purred, popping the last button free. The fabric slid from her shoulders in a whisper, pooling at her feet. The lace of her bra strained for one suspended second before she reached back, unhooking it with a practiced flick.

The bra slithered down her arms, and her heavy breasts tumbled free—full, ripe, and tipped with glinting silver barbells through each stiffened nipple. Joey made a sound like a wounded animal, his knuckles whitening around the crumpled envelopes.

"What about now, Joey?" Leslie breathed, rolling her shoulders just enough to make the pierced peaks jounce invitingly. The cool air of the mailroom pebbled her skin, but the heat between her thighs was unbearable. She could see the pulse in his throat now, wild as a trapped bird’s.

Leslie arched a brow, her painted lips curling as she pressed a finger to Joey’s trembling mouth. "Shhh," she murmured, the word warm against his ear as her other hand slid down his chest, nails scraping over the thin fabric of his polo. "The door’s locked, baby. No one’s coming in." Her hips rolled forward, the damp heat of her skirt grinding against the rigid outline of his cock straining against his jeans.

Joey’s breath came in ragged bursts, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides as if unsure where to land. "B-But—" His protest died in a whimper as Leslie captured his wrist, guiding his palm to the weight of her bare breast.

Joey’s fingers twitched against her bare flesh, his palm burning against the soft weight of her breast. Leslie exhaled sharply through her nose—his touch was hesitant, clumsy, the way she’d expected. A virgin’s touch. She bit back a smirk as she reached into the hidden pocket of her skirt, her fingers closing around the sleek silicone ring she’d tucked there this morning.

“W-What’s that?” Joey stammered, his voice cracking as his gaze flicked down to the black band now dangling from her fingertips.

Leslie’s fingers curled around the slick black ring, stretching it with a slow, deliberate pull that made Joey’s breath stutter. “This, sweetheart,” she murmured, dragging the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, “is going to keep you nice and hard for me—without any… messy accidents.”

Joey’s throat worked as she tugged his belt loose with her free hand, the leather hissing through the loops. His jeans sagged, the denim clinging just low enough to reveal the flushed, twitching head of his cock straining against his briefs.

Leslie's breath hitched as she peeled Joey's briefs down, the swollen length of him springing free—thick, flushed, and already leaking at the tip. A shudder rolled through him as she dragged the pad of her thumb over the slick bead of precum, smearing it down his shaft with a slow, filthy twist of her wrist.

"Fuck," Joey gasped, his hips jerking helplessly into her touch.

She tsked, circling the base of his cock with the black silicone ring, stretching it just enough to tease. "Patience," she murmured, letting the cool material brush against his trembling thighs.

Leslie's fingers tightened around the silicone ring, stretching it taut before sliding it down Joey's throbbing length in one smooth motion. The moment it reached the base, she twisted it sharply, catching his balls in the loop—his choked gasp sent heat pulsing between her thighs. His cock jumped against the tight restraint, veins standing out in stark relief as precum dripped onto the tile floor.

She stepped back, fingers hooking into the waistband of her skirt, and peeled it down in a slow, deliberate roll of her hips. The damp fabric clung to her thighs before finally pooling at her ankles, leaving her in nothing but thigh-high stockings and a lace garter belt.

Joey's breath hitched as his eyes locked onto the garter belt framing the bare, glistening heat between Leslie's thighs. "Mrs. Stone—I mean, Leslie—I should tell you... I'm a virgin." The confession tumbled out in a rush, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

Leslie's lips curled as she stepped forward, the sharp click of her heels echoing in the cramped mailroom. "Oh, honey," she purred, dragging a fingernail down his sweat-slicked chest, "I knew that the moment I saw you." Her other hand wrapped around his restrained cock, squeezing just enough to make his knees buckle.

Leslie’s grip tightened around Joey’s cock as she fished her phone from the discarded pile of her clothes with her free hand. The screen lit up with Craig’s name—"Send me everything"—still glowing from his last message. She angled the camera down, capturing the swollen length of Joey in her fist, his restraint clearly visible, the flushed head glistening under the fluorescent mailroom lights. Her thumb tapped the screen—click—the shutter sound muffled against Joey’s ragged exhale.

“Look at you,” she murmured, swiping to review the photo—the contrast of her manicured fingers against his **** arousal, the silicone ring digging into his swollen base.

Leslie’s tongue flicked out, catching the salty bead of precum at Joey’s tip before sinking her lips down his length in one slow, obscene glide. His hips jerked—she pinned him to the mail cart with her free hand, the metal rattling as she hollowed her cheeks. The camera flashed—click—capturing the way his thighs trembled, the veins in his neck standing taut as wire.

Her phone buzzed against the tile where she’d tossed it, Craig’s reply lighting up the screen: "Take his virginity my slut let him feel your pussy and let him cum inside of you."

Leslie’s breath hitched—Craig’s words sent a fresh pulse of heat between her thighs, her own arousal slick against her inner skin. She released Joey’s cock with a wet pop, her lips glistening as she dragged the back of her hand across her mouth.

This was joeys first ever sexual experience and he was putty in Leslie hands as she took him back her mouth deep throating his cock

Leslie’s fingers tangled in Joey’s hair, yanking his head back as she swallowed him deeper, her throat fluttering around his **** thrusts. The mail cart rattled violently behind him, envelopes scattering across the floor as his hips jerked—untrained, frantic—his virgin body betraying every instinct to rut into her heat. She could taste the salt of his panic, the way his thighs quivered when her nails dug into them, holding him open for the slow, filthy slide of her tongue along his underside.

The cock ring was doing its job keeping his cock hard and thick and not letting him cum yet as she squeezed his balls while she sucked his cock.

Leslie’s fingers trailed down to the tight silicone ring digging into Joey’s swollen base, her thumb pressing against the tender skin just beneath—testing, teasing. His cock throbbed in her grip, the veins straining against the unrelenting pressure. She squeezed his balls next, rolling them in her palm with just enough **** to make his breath stutter, his hips twitching helplessly against the mail cart.

A whimper escaped him as she took him deep again, her tongue swirling around the head before sinking down until her nose brushed the thatch of dark hair at his base. The cock ring kept him achingly hard, his desperation mounting with every flick of her tongue, every slow drag of her lips.

Leslie pulled back with a wet gasp, her lips swollen from the relentless rhythm of her mouth on Joey’s cock. She pressed her palms against his trembling thighs, nails biting into his skin as she leaned forward, letting her heavy, pierced tits spill over his shaft. The cold metal of her nipple rings dragged along his feverish skin as she squeezed her breasts together, trapping him in a slick, heated vise.

His breath came in ragged bursts, his hips jerking instinctively—but she controlled the pace, rocking him between her tits with slow, deliberate rolls of her shoulders.

Leslie tightened her grip on Joey’s hips, her nails leaving crescent moons in his skin as she ground herself against his trapped cock. "Not yet, my young stud," she purred, dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft, savoring the way his whole body jerked at the contact. "You don’t get to cum until I feel that hard cock in my pussy."

His breath hitched—a broken, **** sound—as she finally released him from the slick prison of her tits. The cock ring pulsed angrily around his base, his swollen tip glistening under the flickering fluorescent lights.

Leslie’s hands slid up Joey’s chest, her wedding band catching the light as she pushed him firmly against the mail cart. The metal groaned in protest as she swung one leg over his hips, her pussy already soaked from her horniness.

Her fingers wrapped around his cock, guiding him to her entrance with deliberate slowness, letting him feel the heat radiating from her swollen lips.

Leslie leaned in, her breath hot against Joey’s ear as her fingers tightened around his cock, guiding him just barely inside her—enough to make him whimper. "Do you want to feel my pussy around that fat cock of yours?" she murmured, her teeth grazing his earlobe. "Then tell me. Beg me to fuck you. Say please take my virginity."

Joey’s hips bucked involuntarily, his cock twitching against her slick entrance, but she held him still with a firm grip. His voice cracked—half plea, half gasp—as his fingers dug into her hips. "P-please—fuck me, take it, just—god—"

Leslie smirked, her breath hitching as she finally relented, sinking down onto him in one slow, torturous glide. The stretch burned—his cock was thick, unyielding—and she moaned as her body swallowed him inch by inch, her inner walls fluttering around the intrusion.

"Fuck, your cock feels good and thick inside of me," Leslie moaned, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles that made Joey's breath come in ragged gasps. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she lifted herself almost completely off him, then sank back down with a wet slap of skin, taking him deeper with each filthy grind. The mail cart creaked beneath them, its wheels skittering against scattered envelopes as she set a ruthless rhythm—just shy of what he desperately needed, denying him the frantic pace his trembling thighs begged for.

A bead of sweat slid down Joey's temple as he clutched at her waist, his grip shaky, his pupils blown wide with overwhelmed pleasure.

Joey’s gaze locked onto Leslie’s bouncing tits—the heavy swell of flesh jiggling with every downward snap of her hips, pierced nipples stiff and glistening with sweat. She caught him staring and smirked, arching her back to shove them closer to his panting mouth. "Suck them," she demanded, grinding her clit in slow circles against his pelvis. "Squeeze them while I ride that virgin cock."

His hands fumbled upward, clumsy with desperation, palms molding against the soft weight of her tits. The cold metal of her nipple rings grazed his lips as he obeyed, tongue swirling around one stiff peak while his fingers dug into yielding flesh.

Leslie’s breath came in sharp gasps as she felt Joey’s cock twitch inside her, his hips jerking in short, frantic thrusts. She clenched around him, milking every inch as his hands tightened on her tits, fingers sinking into soft flesh. "That’s it," she purred, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles, dragging his length against her swollen walls. "You gonna cum for me, Joey? Gonna fill me up like a good boy?"

His moan was ragged, ****—his body tensing beneath her as she ground down, taking him deeper. The cock ring kept him swollen, throbbing, his release trapped just beneath the surface.

Leslie could feel his cock straining for release as she felt her orgasm building. She picked up her pace riding his cock and made both of them cum together.

Leslie’s thighs trembled as she rode him harder, the wet slap of skin echoing in the cramped mailroom. She could feel Joey’s cock twitching inside her, swollen and ****, his breath coming in ragged gasps against her chest. His fingers dug into her hips, clumsy and frantic, as she clenched around him, her own climax coiling tight in her belly.

“You close?” she taunted, rolling her hips in slow, filthy circles before snapping down again, taking him to the hilt with a gasp. His choked moan was answer enough—his cock pulsed, his body tensing beneath her as she ground her clit against him, the friction sending sparks up her spine.

Leslie’s breath hitched as she felt Joey’s cock twitch violently inside her, his hips jerking in shallow, **** thrusts. “Oh fuck—yes, Joey, cum in me,” she moaned, grinding down hard as his fingers dug into her hips. His whole body tensed, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as the first hot pulse of cum flooded her pussy. She clenched around him, milking every thick spurt, her own climax cresting as his virgin seed spilled deep inside her.

“That’s it, fill me up,” she gasped, rocking against him, her clit rubbing against his pelvis with each shuddering thrust.

Joey’s hips bucked wildly as another thick spurt pulsed into her, his cock twitching like a live wire buried deep in her clutching heat. Leslie gasped as the hot flood painted her inner walls, each jet of cum spurting harder than the last—his virgin release impossibly abundant, splashing against her cervix in slick, **** waves.

Leslie’s thighs trembled as she rode the last waves of Joey’s orgasm, her slick walls still fluttering around his twitching cock. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps against her collarbone, his fingers slackening their **** grip on her hips. She leaned back slightly, rolling her pelvis in slow, lazy circles—savoring the thick heat of his cum pooling inside her, the way his oversensitive length jerked weakly at the slightest movement.

Joey whimpered as she shifted, his cock still half-hard from the ring’s cruel pressure, his thighs twitching beneath her. Leslie traced a fingertip down his sweat-slicked chest, watching his dazed expression with a smirk. "

With a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, she lifted herself up, letting his softening cock slip free with a slick, wet sound. A thick trickle of cum immediately spilled from her pussy, dripping down her inner thighs in glistening streaks. Joey’s breath hitched as he watched, his spent cock twitching weakly against his stomach at the sight—his own release leaking out of her, painting her skin in sticky proof of what they’d just done.

Leslie’s smirk deepened as she lowered her mouth to Joey’s twitching cock, her tongue flicking out to catch the last pearly beads of cum still glistening at the tip. A broken whimper escaped his lips as her hot, wet tongue dragged slowly up his oversensitive shaft, licking away every sticky trace of his release.

She took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked the last remnants from his flushed skin, her fingers teasing the swollen base where the cock ring still strained. His hips jerked weakly, his spent cock twitching against her tongue as she worked him with slow, filthy sucks—each drag of her lips wringing another shallow gasp from his trembling body.

Leslie’s tongue swirled one last time around the swollen head of Joey’s cock before pulling back with a wet pop, her lips glistening. Her fingers, slick with sweat, found the tight clasp of the cock ring at the base of his shaft. With a practiced flick, she undid it—the sudden release making Joey gasp as blood rushed back in a throbbing wave, his oversensitive flesh twitching violently against his stomach.

A shudder wracked his body as she dragged a fingertip along the underside of his still-hard length, tracing the thick vein now freed from constriction.

Leslie dragged her tongue along Joey’s twitching cock one last time before sitting up, her thighs still glazed with his release. She exhaled a low, satisfied laugh as she watched his chest heave—his skin flushed, his lips parted in dazed exhaustion.

"You did good for your first time," she murmured, her fingers tracing idle circles through the sticky mess on her inner thigh before swiping a fingertip through the glistening streaks. She brought it to her lips, tasting him again with a slow, deliberate suck. "You’ve got a nice cock, Joey.

Leslie had Joey to take some pictures of her used cum filled pussy, so that she could send it with the video of them fucking to Craig.