You can't help it.

"Give it to her! Give it to her hard!" Gordon yells at you as you mount his wife Melissa, your new boss.

You wedge a knee onto the sofa under her leg and slide your prick right in under her trimmed brown bush. She's wet and hot, slippery with her own sex juices and a dash of banana pulp. As you start thrusting, you find there's a little sticky spot right around her opening that pulls at you each time you draw back for another thrust. But it's all good. It's glorious fucking this beautiful, powerful, rich woman in front of her husband, who's cheering you on. Not to mention the lady herself.

Melissa pulls her knees back so you can enter her deeper. Her smooth, bronzed legs fold back and up. "Deeper, John," Melissa says. "Bottom it out!"

You climb up onto the sofa, pushing her back so you can fuck down hard and deep. Melissa's eyes are shining and she has a broad grin on her face. As you prepare to enter her again, there are whistles and spats of applause from the others.

You look round. Things seem to have moved along a little while you've been having your little banana pie break.

Nearby, Gordon is openly rubbing your wife's bum under her little black dress, which is rucked up front and back. So you didn't imagine that bum-pinch when he greeted her. Far from objecting, Mrs Doe seems to be caressing the front of his trousers with her fingertips. And they're both watching you and Melissa. Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander...

Anita is wrapped around Melanie from behind, her small brown hands squarely on the petite blonde receptionist's ill-contained breasts. Melanie, her eyes wide under her glasses, is leaning back toward the Indian student, slowly relaxing under Anita's attentive hands. And Anita's date Mark is about to take off Melanie's shoes.

Marcia is sitting between Martin, the African Adonis of IT, and her husband Dan. Dan's corduroy trousers are open, and Marcia is slowly stroking his quite respectable prick. You hear a zip, and Martin's prick springs up, a dark brown rod of almost matching size. Marcia readily takes it in her other hand.

"Show us your tits!" Martin calls to Melissa.

"Insubordinate spod," Melissa sniffs. "But I am the hostess, and I should set the tone," she says. She points to her vest top. "John, rip it off!"

You slip your fingers into the buttoned front of her tight vest. Your fingertips touch nothing but flesh under the top. One little pull and she'll be naked. You grin wolfishly and yank hard, popping buttons into the air. One lands with a 'ting!' in a wine glass. Melissa's heavy breasts spill out, bouncing on her chest.

A chorus of "Ooh" and "Ah" comes from the others.

"Ah, she's not the only one with a pair of puppies under her shirt!" Marcia says, flushed with drink and excitement. She lets go her two partners' pricks and doffs her blouse and bra. To be fair, you can see Marcia's motherhood-enhanced pair are quite the equal of Melissa's.

"In!" Melissa commands. You smile, dawdling a bit. She grabs your buttocks to pull you forward, but you resist just a little. Her face darkens, and she yells, "In! Stick your prick in me, you w...Ah!"

You sink deeply into Melissa's hot split. She closes her eyes and throws her head back. Atop her and in the saddle, you pump hard and deep, driving her into a place she can describe only in monosyllables.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, uh, yes, yes, ah..." she cries, the words spilling out uncontrollably. "Oh fuck John I'm not protected I'm..." she pauses and gasps in a deep breath. "Oh fuck I'm gonna come, John come in me, come with me come, come, eeeeeeeeeee!" her voice rises in a squeal, and her cunt squeezes down on you. Her arms wrap tight around you, and she crushes you down against her.

You have some distant second thoughts about how bad it might be for your career, much less your marriage if you put your boss's belly up. But it doesn't seem to matter as the beautiful brunette writhes underneath you, her breasts squashed against your chest, pulling you down, her lips devouring yours.

You feel a man's hand on your hip. "Wait, pull out..." Gordon pleads.

But it's far too late. Your hips buck, and you shoot gouts of sperm up into the very top of Melissa's Heavenly House.

"Yesss..." she hisses.