Get on the desk

She scrambles to her feet and lifts herself on the desk. She starts to slide backwards but Ms. Bishop is there behind her. She flinches away from the other woman, but your assistant grabs her, pulling open her top. A button bounces off the desk as you approach, your cock rock-hard, and spread Sarah’s legs. Ms. Bishop works the front clasp on the woman’s black silk bra, setting her magnificent breasts loose.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“I want to get fucked,” she says, low and throaty, as she spreads her nylon-clad legs, pulling up her grey skirt with one hand and pulling the crotch of her black silk panties away from her moistening pussy with the other.

“What do you want?” you growl louder as you walk up to her, your cock inches from her cunt, her fingers frantically rubbing her clit.

“I want to get fucked,” she says, louder, looking you straight in the eyes. Without hesitation you grab her hips and thrust yourself into her.

You pace yourself, watching her reaction. Your thrusts push her back, the back of her head pressing into Ms. Bishop's breasts, your assistant's hands on her shoulders, holding her steady. You grab the blonde's breasts, feeling her hard nipples under her palms, and she shudders. You pick up the pace and she pushes back against you, lifting her hips off the desk. You respond, thrusting harder, playing with her nipples with your fingers. She freezes for a moment, bites her lips and shudders, and you feel her cunt grip you. With that, you let yourself go, pounding her harder, harder, gripping her by her breasts, the heat, the pressure rising, body shaking and shivering again, her head turning back and forth, until you growl and erupt inside her.

You pull yourself out of her and she falls back to the desk, panting. Ms. Bishop walks around the desk, falls to her knees, and begins causally cleaning your softening cock with her tongue. “Does your little girl know what a whore mommy is?” you ask Sarah.

“She doesn’t, she doesn’t know,” she stammers back.

“You may have a future with this company after all,” you say as your assistant dries your cock with a handkerchief and tucks it back into your pants. “We’ll talk again.” You turn to leave as she lays on the desk, her tits hanging out of her torn blouse. “I’ve got a meeting in 10. That’s about the time someone will be in to wipe down the desk. Go, stay, makes no difference to me.”