What's next?
New office, new role
Angela lowered the empty glass, a thin strand of spit and cum still clinging to her bottom lip. She stayed on her knees on the office floor, naked and messy, waiting.
I looked down at her for a long moment.
“I’m not going to leave you with nothing,” I said.
Her head lifted slightly. Confusion flickered across her face, mixed with a fragile, hopeful light.
I continued. “You’ll have a place”
She didn’t fully understand, but the relief in her eyes was obvious. She nodded quickly, almost gratefully.
Weeks after the move to the new headquarters, the top-floor office had settled into its quiet luxury.
The room faced the ocean. Floor-to-ceiling glass stretched across the entire wall, flooding the space with late-afternoon light and the endless blue of the horizon. Everything was clean and expensive — white furniture, soft carpet, and a wide white bed positioned near the glass so the person on it could watch the waves.
I had spent the day working at my desk, going through reports and calls while the ocean stretched out behind me. When the last task was finished, I closed the laptop, stood up, and walked across the room toward the bed.
Angela was already there.
She knelt beside the white bed in a purple lace bra and matching thong, the thin material struggling to contain her heavy tits. A delicate gold chain rested between her cleavage. Her dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders. The moment I approached, she straightened her posture, hands resting neatly on her thighs, eyes lifting with quiet anticipation.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, legs spread.
Without a word, Angela crawled forward between my knees. Her fingers worked open my belt and zipper with careful precision. She freed my cock, already thickening, and leaned in. Instead of taking it into her mouth, she reached back, unhooked her bra, and let her massive breasts spill free. She cupped them, pressed them together around my shaft, and began to move.

The soft, warm weight of her tits enveloped me completely. She slid them up and down in slow, practiced strokes, the head of my cock disappearing between the soft cleavage and reappearing slick with pre-cum. The gentle, wet sound of her breasts working over me filled the quiet office.
She looked up at me, eyes searching for approval.
I gave her a small nod.
A real smile spread across her face — soft, relieved, almost proud. She worked her tits a little faster, squeezing them tighter around my cock, making sure every inch was stroked. Her heavy breasts moved in perfect rhythm, soft and obedient.
“You’re doing a good job,” I said.
Her smile widened. She even bit her lip slightly, clearly pleased.
I let her continue for another half-minute, enjoying the warm, devoted pressure of her tits, before I spoke again.
“Too bad Jessa is a more hardworking slut,” I said casually. “That’s why she got the promotion.”
Angela’s rhythm faltered for half a second. The smile on her face froze, then slowly faded. Something small and wounded passed through her eyes. Still, she didn’t stop. She kept sliding her heavy breasts up and down my cock, trying to maintain the same careful pace even as the hope drained from her expression. Her cheeks flushed with quiet humiliation, but she continued serving me, tits wrapped tightly around my shaft, pre-cum smearing across her soft skin.
I watched her for a moment longer, then gave a low, amused laugh.
I leaned back on one hand, turned my head toward the glass wall, and looked out at the ocean. The sun was beginning to dip, painting the water in gold and orange. On the side table sat the drink she had prepared earlier — cold and perfectly made.
I picked it up, took a slow sip, and exhaled, completely at ease.
Angela remained on her knees between my legs, naked from the waist up, using her heavy tits to stroke my cock in silence. I didn’t look at her again. I simply kept my eyes on the horizon, enjoying the view, the quiet, and the warm, obedient friction of her body working for me — as if she had already faded into the background of the new life I had built.
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