The best sex of my life is not good enough

You scream for the man at the door to wait.

You stand up to tell Daryll that he doesn't have what you're looking for. You can't seem to summon your usual disdain for a man's feelings, and your voice carries true solemnity. He sits on the desk, wallowing in a puddle of your juices, naked. He is distraught

"I... I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

You feel deep regret and apologize profusely. You try and tell him he doesn't have the necessary experience but the words don't come out in the right order. You aren't sure he understood. He picks up his clothes

"But... you liked it. I know you did. I don't know what you want."

Summoning your bravest bitch face, you remind him that he technically assaulted you while you were ****. His face pales and before his panicked lips can muster a rebuttal you hustle him out the door, barely dressed. You feel sick to your stomach, like you have lost something.

You need to get ready for your next interview. You take evacuate the little sperm that remains inside of you before cleaning up and redressing. You're not exactly feeling fresh, but it will do.

You take your seat cross legged at the edge of your desk and invite your next interview in.