Driss (m/m When your boss fucked your Colleuge like it's nothing special)

This time it's not Dumas that makes the first move.

Driss stands up from his chair.

"Bastien." He calls out. " Actually I have an appointment in about 45. Do you think we could finish up quicker.

Driss was a handsome man, who took care of his appearance. His body was well built muscular and slightly taller than Dumas. He had a generous but well groomed black beard thick expressive eyebrows and his dark hair was shaved short in a fade on the sides.

Paul had mixed feelings about Driss, he was incredibly likable and was friends with everyone. But at the same time he was a little too good with people, he could sell you just about anything and convince you you'd gotten away with a steal.

At the same time, it also seemed like for every favor he did, he always landed on top or benefited from it somehow. Benefits that left everyone envious. Just like now.

"That should work. Can you stay long enough to haul the other guy down with you?" Responded Dumas easily, clapping him on the shoulder.

Turning around, Driss put a leg up on the chair and spread the other out, leaning forward to grip the support pillar against which the chair stood.

With an enviably smooth slide, Dumas sheathed his wet cock to the base in a single move. Dumas did not wait this time grabbed Driss's hips and began pounding into the man with rapid efficiency.
The slapping sound and occasional breathy moans from the both of them, continued 1 long minute before Dumas came to a sudden stop. Then Clapped Driss on the side, pulled out and stepped away.

"That should do." Dumas dismissed.

"Thanks man." Driss straightens putting down his leg and smiles easily, seemingly utterly unphased by the fucking he'd just gotten as Dumas looks around.