Making a new friend

You spot your father already sitting and chatting with someone you haven't met, probably the guy trying to fist your asshole on the way here. You keep scanning the room and spot a well dressed woman with a cold expression glaring you down. Her eyes narrow as she sees you looking back at her, as though to size you up.

She motions for you to sit next to her curtly, not exactly a friendly invitation, but preferable to more of your father's terrible treatment today. What does he think you're made of? You decide to approach the unknown woman, especially as you notice she appears to be drinking a tall glass of... couldn't be... that much?

"Young lady, why are you nude?" The woman says, as you coyly sit down beside her. She's wearing much more traditional office attire than you were previously, though would likely seem risqué before the virus. Her respectable sized busom, about the size of yours, is pressed together a bit to tight, to well match her tight angular face and no nonsense bun hairstyle.

She would look fairly normally dressed, save for the long lines of dried semen streaking her otherwise black outfit. Women can still get away being moderately dressed like this? You suddenly feel more awkward about your flagrant nudity.

"Uh, several of the office guys wanted... uh... to donate... and I..." You stammer out pitifully while looking at your salad shamefully.

"And you couldn't get dressed afterwards? Lord, the state of women these days. You must really need the doses to be this dumb." She says with a condescending tone, as she takes another sip of her swirly milky drink with a straw. No doubt about it, it's cum. She swallows with big gulps as though to tease you with her huge lunch. She looks at your salad with a small single dose topping and appears to stifle a laugh. "You're Kevin's daughter, right?"

You nod.

"Humph. Figures. Listen well, girl, and maybe that empty head of yours can fill back up with semen, before you fall into a coma. You must be close." She doesn't notice or care about your bewildered and slightly offended expression, already turning towards the dining hall and shouting, "Wilson, get over here!"

An overweight man in a wrinkled business suit flinches, then stands. He begins sauntering over to your table without looking up, like a child about to be scolded by a teacher.

"You called, Miss Lovegood?" He says obediently, though shifting uncomfortably.

"Please give this young lady a donation. You may look, but you may not touch. You have 3 minutes. Go." She states quickly, then snaps her fingers. The man winces, but begins undoing his fly.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you just... made me... for your shake there... and... uh... you know my wife and daughter both are in the hospital and..." The man stammers as she flails his limp cock towards you, but a respectable distance away.

"Then you're going to need me to sign off on your vacation days to visit them won't you? That's if you can even keep your job." She says to him coldly, watching his pitiful display with a bemused expression. "You better get that pathetic thing working again if you want to keep your health insurance for them. Time's ticking. 2 minutes."

The man flails harder at himself, at least getting a half mast erection by staring at your bare breasts with a dreamy eyed look. You would feel more awkward about it, but you've had significantly worse treatment today, and a little eye candy for this weirdo seemed pretty tame. You help him out by holding your perky tits up on your crossed arms like a platter.

"One minute. Better hurry up, Wilson. If you don't cum soon you can pack up your desk."

"Guh!" He jerks faster on his barely stiff erection, her threats doing nothing for the mood. He closes his eyes now, needing to watch whatever his most depraved fantasy is in his head, rather than ogling your body. His jerking is more of a flail of his limp cock towards you.

"30 seconds." She states, not even looking at a clock to time him. Doesn't seem like it's been that long.

"Come on! Come on! Fuck! Finally yes! Ugh..." The man shouts at you, tossing a meager donation on your untouched salad to join your father's. He seems more in pain and relieved to not be fired as he milks out the small oozing shot.

"Excellent work, Wilson. You may have her suck out the last of it." Miss Lovegood says, not really asking you if you want to. You happily lap at the end of the man's penis when it's presented to you anyway. Way less uncomfortable than usual.

"You may leave now, Pig. And don't think this excuses you from regular duty. Have another one ready for me by 5." She says to him as he quickly pulls himself away from you and zips up his pants, relieved to get away. He scurries back to his table and she addresses you after another sip from her liquid lunch.

"There are two kinds of women in the world, Sarah. Women who know how to get what they want..." She pauses to take a long gulp from the glass, then looks at you like a worm. "And living fuck dolls waiting to be coma patients. Which one are you?"

She waits for an answer while staring you down. You awkwardly stuff your face with the sad cum covered greens, not able to think of a reply. It's not like you want to be a living fuck doll, but you clearly aren't able to get what you want. At least not like her.

"Humph. Well, I'm feeling rather... generous... today, so maybe I'll help you out, little slut." She slurps the straw noisily as her glass empties, making sure to get every drop without sharing any with you. "How about you help me get a refill and maybe you'll learn a thing or two on the way."

She doesn't appear very friendly, but she managed to aquire that drink somehow. Women like this still exist? She must be pretty smart, maybe you could learn something.

She looks at you expectantly.