Jan. Week 3: A Long Weekend-Movies--Leah lets Mr. Howard fuck her reluctantly...

Mr. Howard stopped her suddenly, a dark desire to feel himself inside of her.

“I want to be inside of you.” he said with a predatory grin.

“Are you serious right now!?” she said her voice was edged with desperation and loathing.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes narrowing into a glare that exuded arrogance. “Unless you’d like me to inform Jonathan right now?”

Leah turned around, her movements stiff and mechanical. She was already prepared, her body betraying her with a slickness between her thighs as she lifted her skirt and pressed her palms against the ivory sink. The bathroom felt cramped even though it had plenty of space, the unfamiliar location only made the act more hurried. Leah reached back and spread her ass with one hand, she wanted this to go easy--and quick. Mr. Howard moved forward and put his manhood to her slit and thrust forward, he gripped her hips roughly and pulled her back onto him, not bothering to ask if she was ready. He didn’t need to—her body had already conceded.

The first thrust made her grit her teeth, suppressing any sound. He was rough, his movements clumsy and driven by pent-up need rather than finesse. Leah moved mechanically, matching his rhythm out of necessity rather than desire. Each slap of skin on skin echoed in the empty restroom, a harsh reminder of their shared secret. She hated him, and she hated herself even more for the way her body responded.

“God, you’re tight,” he hissed, and she almost scoffed at the cliché. They were adults with careers and reputations, not teenagers in a parked car. She pictured herself in the bathroom mirror, her expression a mix of resignation and disdain.

He thrust into her harder, one hand grasping her breast under her top, the other digging into her hip. Leah’s legs shook with a mixture of fatigue and **** arousal. She could feel the climax building, a sensation she resented but couldn’t control. He leaned in, his breath hot and unpleasant against her ear:

“You like this, don’t you?” he whispered, and she didn’t respond, because anything she said would be a lie.

She came first, the orgasm washing over her like an unwanted wave, leaving her limp and resentful against the wall. Howard kept going, his movements harsh and urgent.

“Fuck, Leah,” he groaned, and she knew he was close.