Performance

She positioned herself on the desk, the glossy latex creaking softly as she moved onto her hands and knees. The material stretched taut across her thighs, accentuating every curve—her plump ass cheeks peeking from the high-cut thong, the pronounced cameltoe bulge of her shaved mound pressing against the wet fabric. The gold "Q" emblem at her collar caught the dim light, a brand she wore like a promise.

She turned onto her back, the cool wood pressing against her spine through the thin latex. Her legs hung off the edge, knees falling open automatically. The suit's deep V plunge exposed the tops of her enormous tits, the translucent material over her nipples showing their hard, pink peaks straining for freedom. She spread her legs wider, the crotch of the suit darkening as her arousal soaked through.

Marcus remained still, watching her with that predatory stillness. His eyes traveled over her—the thick thighs, the shaved mound clearly outlined, the way the latex hugged her like a second skin. He made no move toward her.

"Go on," he said, his voice low, unhurried. "Show me what a proper snowbunny does."

The humiliation burned deeper, mixing with raw need. She brought her hand down, fingers sliding over the slick latex covering her cunt. She pressed harder, feeling her own heat through the material, and began to circle her clit in slow strokes. Her back arched, the motion making her tits jiggle against the restrictive suit.

"That's it," he murmured. "Play with that wet pussy for me."

She slipped two fingers beneath the suit's edge, the latex stretching as she pushed inside herself. Her wetness was immediate, coating her fingers as she fucked herself slowly, deliberately. Her other hand went to her chest, pinching her nipple through the translucent material—the pink peak darkening under the glossy surface.

Her eyes stayed locked on him. She licked her lips, a hint of that naughty mischief flickering in her gaze despite the humiliation coiling in her stomach. She wanted him to see her like this—the former CEO reduced to a trembling, wet mess in a fetish suit, performing on her own desk.

"Look at you," he said, taking a step closer but still not touching. "All that power, and now you're dripping on your mahogany, **** for a black cock to fill you."

Her fingers moved faster, her hips bucking into her own hand. She thought of his thick shaft, the way he'd filled her before, and a moan escaped her lips. The orgasm built low in her belly, a slow burn that spread through her thighs.

"Come for me," he commanded. "Let me watch you fall apart."

She did, her body convulsing on the desk as her fingers plunged deep inside her wet cunt. Her cry echoed in the dim office, her back arching, the latex suit gleaming with sweat. When she finally relaxed, breathless, she looked up at him—still fully dressed, still in control.

He was unbuttoning his trousers.

"Good girl," he said, pulling out his thick, hard cock. "Now get on your hands and knees. I want to see that fat latex ass in the air while I breed my snowbunny."

The humiliation transformed into pure, aching need. She rolled onto her stomach, the suit's glossy surface sliding against the wood as she presented herself to him—ass raised, legs spread, the crotch of the suit pulled aside to expose her glistening, swollen pussy. She looked back over her shoulder, a wicked, submissive smile curving her lips.

"Show me who I belong to," she whispered.