Ignore the phone

You ignore the phone completely.

“It’s no one important.”

The screen stays lit for a few more seconds and then goes dark, Ruby’s message left unread. Your attention stays locked on Cheryl as she sinks back down onto your cock with a low, satisfied sound.

She works you with slow, thorough focus, the earlier debriefing continuing between long, wet strokes of her tongue. One hand wraps the base she cannot fully take, stroking in time with the bob of her head. The other rests on your thigh, fingers flexing whenever she takes you deeper. Spit begins to slick the shaft and drip down onto the conference room carpet. She does not wipe it away. She simply swallows what she can and keeps going, cheeks hollowing, throat relaxing around the thick head each time she pushes past her comfort point.

“You stayed hard the whole time you fucked me,” she murmurs when she pulls off for air, voice already rough. “Even after you came. Most men go soft and lose interest. You just kept going. I noticed.” She licks a slow stripe from base to tip, then takes you under again, the wet sound of it filling the quiet room. “Your wife has no idea what she is wasting. This cock should be used every day. Stretched around. Sucked clean. Fucked until it is empty and then nursed back to full so it can be used again.”

She settles into a steady rhythm, nursing you with the kind of patient attention that makes the earlier hard fucking feel like only the first round. Whenever your hips twitch she sinks deeper in answer, letting you feel the back of her throat, holding herself there until her eyes water before pulling back to breathe. The fluorescent lights hum overhead. The office beyond the glass walls stays dark and empty. Cheryl shows no sign of stopping or rushing. She treats the thick length of you like something she intends to keep in her mouth for as long as it takes to pull another full orgasm out of you, the earlier competitive edge completely replaced by focused, hungry care.

Her free hand eventually drifts between her own legs, rubbing in slow circles while she continues to suck. The motion is unselfconscious. She is getting herself close again just from the act of having your cock in her throat. When she moans the vibration travels straight through the shaft and makes your stomach tighten. She feels the response and does it again on purpose, eyes flicking up to watch your face while she works.

Minutes stretch. The slow nursing never turns frantic. Cheryl keeps the pace deliberate, building you with lips and tongue and the occasional deep take that leaves her gasping, then returning to long, wet strokes that clean and stimulate at the same time. Every time you think the pressure is about to crest she changes the angle or the rhythm just enough to hold you there, drawing the pleasure out, clearly determined to make the second release last longer than the first. The phone on the table stays dark and forgotten. The only thing that exists in Conference Room B is the heat of her mouth, the steady wet sounds of her work, and the growing certainty that she has no intention of letting your cock leave her lips until she has finished what she started.