Sex

“What do you want?”

She smiles at your question, a condescending smile, a sympathetic smile, as if your question is irrelevant. “You know what I want.”

“What, now?”

“I’m free. You appear to be free. Now is as good a time as any, because I’m not signing it until you’ve given me what I want.”

To emphasise her answer, she stands, and slowly unbuttons her cardigan, to reveal her grey blouse, stretched across her breasts. She licks her narrow lips, and her hazel eyes bore into you.

How can you resist?

“What if someone sees?”

“The blinds are down. Lock the door, don’t want anyone walking in. I’ll try and be as quiet as possible, but you know that’s hard with a monster like this.” She reaches down and feels the stirring beast of your groin. Her eyebrows rise as she feels it stiffening. “A hard monster like this.”

You lock the door and when you turn back, she’s already on her knees. She expertly undoes your fly and fishes your cock out. In seconds it’s in her talented mouth. It doesn’t take long before you’re rock hard. While she’s getting you there, you can see the fingers of her right hand reaching down to excite herself.

Soon you’re hard and she’s ready. You help her up from her knees, spin her round and drape her over her desk. She lifts her skirt and pushes aside her knickers to reveal her needy slit. You don’t need any more invitation. You easily slide in.

“Oh, yes, that’s it.”

Soon you’re in the groove. Krystal’s pussy feels so familiar. It welcomes you. You accept its embrace. Your hips are aflame with your pummelling. Pleasure washes over you, originating from your groin but not confined there. Her fat ass is the perfect bumper for each forward thrust. Every time you withdraw you feel her innards cling to your shaft, desperate to keep you inside.

Krystal’s thrusting a fist into her mouth, desperate to stifle her moans of appreciation. She’s screwed up her eyes. She’s pressing her forehead against her desk. Still squeaks and moans leak out. And that excites you further.

You’re not just fucking Krystal. You’re fucking her in her office. You’re fucking her when there could be students in the classroom beyond. Her classroom and office run parallel to a corridor. You can hear the thunder of feet in that corridor and the hubbub of daily life. It intrudes on your pleasure. It heightens it.

Krystal’s orgasm is a physically exhausting affair, enhanced by her attempt to keep quiet. It sets off your own. Now it’s your turn to muffle your cries with your hand.

You step away and Krystal remains slumped on her desk. She manoeuvres on it as if she’s swimming, arms flailing, remaining prone on the desk. She spins around it until she finds her seat. She sinks down onto the chair. Her gaze rises to you.

“Give me your petition.” You pull it up on your phone and pass it to her. “You deserve more than a signature for that.”