He only wants a Blowjob

The heavy Oak door clicked shut, though the lock remained turned. Mr. Jefferson sat behind his desk, his bald scalp gleaming under the recessed lighting like a polished river stone. He didn't look up from his tablet."Get on your knees, Nicole."

She froze, the fabric of her skirt bunching as she hesitated.

"Now. Before I decide to send an email to your husband."

Nicole sank to the carpet. The scent of expensive leather and stale cigar smoke filled her nostrils. Jefferson leaned back, his hand already working the zipper of his slacks. The metallic rasp echoed in the quiet room. He freed his cock, a thick, vein-streaked rod that pulsed with anticipation, already weeping a bead of clear pre-cum at the tip.

"Use your tongue. I want to feel every inch of it," he commanded.

Nicole leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. She swirled her tongue around the flared glans, tasting the salt and musk of his arousal. He groaned, his fingers locking into her brunette hair, pulling her head forward with a sharp tug. She opened wide, sliding the head of his cock past her lips.

The sound of wet suction filled the space—a rhythmic, squelching shlick as she bobbed her head. She pushed deeper, the shaft hitting the back of her throat, triggering a gag reflex that made her eyes water. Jefferson didn't relent; he thrust his hips forward, forcing the meat deeper into her gullet. Saliva bridged the gap between her lips and his skin, strings of glistening slime coating the shaft as she sucked with desperate intensity.

He let out a low, guttural hiss, his grip tightening. With a final, violent surge, he bucked, filling her mouth with a hot, thick burst of semen. Nicole swallowed hard, the bitter, alkaline taste coating her tongue as she sucked the last few drops from the tip.

She pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Jefferson breathed heavily, adjusting his clothes with a smug smile.

"Clean yourself up. You're dismissed for the hour."

Nicole stood, her legs trembling.

"One more thing," Jefferson added, his voice returning to a professional drone. "Tomorrow night. My house."

"What's Tomorrow?"

"A Halloween party for the office. I expect you and John to attend. I want your husband there."

Nicole felt a chill that had nothing to do with the office air conditioning.

"I'll tell him."