Let her have it

You stand up so fast the chair rolls back and hits the wall. The folder of numbers scatters across the table. Cheryl’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before the smug smile returns, but you do not give her time to speak.

You round the table, haul her out of the chair by the waist, and bend her forward over the polished surface in one hard motion. Her hands slap down among the papers. You shove the pencil skirt up over her hips, find the thin lace of her knickers, and tear them aside. The sound of fabric giving way is loud in the empty room.

“Fuck the metrics,” you growl, freeing your cock. It springs out thick and heavy, the full 8.5 inches already leaking. You drag the head up the length of her slit, feel how wet she is, then push in with one long, relentless thrust that buries you to the hilt.

Cheryl cries out, the sound sharp and shocked and hungry all at once. You do not ease off. You set a hard, driving pace, hips slamming against her toned arse, the conference table rocking under the force. Every thrust is deep and punishing, the kind of vigorous fucking you have been denied for months. You reach forward, fist a handful of her brunette hair, and pull her head back so she has to arch.

“This what you wanted?” you demand, voice rough. “This what the photo was for?”

“Yes,” she gasps, the word breaking on a moan. “God, yes. Harder.”

You give it to her harder. The wet sound of your cock driving into her fills the room. Her yoga-tight body takes every inch, clenching and fluttering around the thick length that Natasha has spent months treating like a burden. You free one hand, reach under her, and find her clit, rubbing in tight circles while you keep pounding into her from behind.

Cheryl comes first, sudden and loud, her forehead dropping to the table as her legs shake. You do not stop. You fuck her straight through it, chasing your own release with the same passionate intensity, the frustration of every cold morning and every rejected advance pouring into the relentless rhythm of your hips.

When you finally finish it is with a deep, shuddering groan, buried as far inside her as you can go, flooding her in thick pulses while she whimpers and pushes back for more. You stay locked against her for a long moment, breathing hard, cock still twitching, the fluorescent lights humming overhead and the rest of the office silent and dark beyond the locked door.