Sweet Rush: Dirty Little Diaries

CONFERENCE ROOM CONFESSIONS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: CONFERENCE ROOM CONFESSIONS

The city lights glittered like diamonds through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the top-floor conference room. It was past 10 PM, and the entire building was empty except for the two of them.

Isabelle stood nervously near the long mahogany conference table, her tight black pencil skirt hugging her hips and her cream silk blouse slightly unbuttoned at the top. Her heart hammered against her ribs as Mr. Vincent Kane, her 48 year old CEO, slowly circled her like a predator.

“You’ve been a distraction for months, Isabelle,” he said softly, hiz voice low and commanding. “Those tight skirts. The way you bend over my desk. The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”

Isabelle swallowed hard, her thighs pressing together. “Mr. Kane… this is inappropriate.”

He stepped behind her, his tall, powerful body pressing close. His breath brushed her ear.

“Then tell me to stop.”

She didn’t.

Vincent’s large hand slid around her waist, pulling her back against his hard chest. His other hand moved up, boldly cupping her breast through her blouse and squeezing.

A soft whimper escaped her lips.

“You’re already wet, aren’t you?” he murmured, pinching her n****e through the fabric. “My innocent little assistant has been fantasizing about her boss’s c**k for months.”

Isabelle’s breath hitched. “Please…”

“Please what?” He spun her around and lifted her onto the edge of the conference table in one smooth motion. Her skirt rode up her thighs as he stepped between her spread legs. “Please f**k you? Please ruin your tight little p***y while your boyfriend waits at home?”

She nodded frantically, shame and lust burning through her at the same time.

Vincent smirked darkly. He unbuttoned her blouse slowly, exposing her lace bra, then yanked it down so her full breasts spilled free. He groaned at the sight, leaning down to suck one stiff n****e into his hot mouth while his hand pushed her skirt higher.

He hooked his fingers into her soaked panties and pulled them aside. Two thick fingers slid through her dripping folds before pushing deep inside her.

“f**k, you’re soaked,” he growled against her breast, pumping his fingers in and out of her tight cunt. “You’re such a little slut. You've wanted this for a long time haven't you?”

Isabelle moaned loudly, her head falling back as he finger-f****d her on the conference table. The wet, obscene sounds echoed in the empty room. He curled his fingers perfectly against her G-spot while his thumb rubbed her swollen c**t in fast circles.

“I’m— I’m going to c*m—” she gasped.

“Then c*m for me, you dirty little slut.”

Her orgasm hit her hard. Isabelle cried out, her p***y clamping down around his fingers as waves of intense pleasure crashed through her. Her juices squirted around his hand, soaking his wrist and the polished table.

Vincent didn’t give her time to recover.

He pulled his fingers out, unzipped his trousers, and freed his massive c**k. It was thick, long, and rock-hard, the head already glistening with precum.

He rubbed the fat head up and down her soaked slit, teasing her.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, Mr. Kane,” Isabelle whimpered, voice broken with need. “Please f**k me. I need your c**k so badly.”

With a deep groan, Vincent slammed into her in one powerful thrust, burying every inch of his thick c**k inside her p***y.

Isabelle screamed in pleasure, her walls stretching painfully around his girth. He felt even bigger than she had imagined. Stretching her open, filling her completely.

“f**k… so tight,” Vincent growled, gripping her hips as he started pounding her hard on the conference table. The table creaked under the force of his thrusts. Her breasts bounced wildly with every deep stroke.

He f****d her like he owned her. Each powerful thrust slammed deep into her cunt, making her moan shamelessly.

“Look at you,” he rasped, one hand wrapping around her throat. “Bent over your boss’s conference table like a cheap w***e. Does your boyfriend f**k you this hard?”

“No— oh god, no!” Isabelle cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. “You’re so much bigger… so much better!”

Vincent smirked and f****d her even harder, the wet slapping sounds of his c**k destroying her p***y echoing through the glass-walled room. Anyone looking up from the street below might see her getting railed, but she didn’t care anymore.

He leaned down and sucked hard on her n*****s, biting them gently before moving up to claim her mouth in a filthy kiss.

“You’re going to go home to him with my c*m leaking out of this p***y,” he growled against her lips. “Every time he kisses you, he’ll be tasting me.”

The filthy words pushed her over the edge again.

Isabelle came hard, screaming into his mouth as her p***y spasmed violently around his c**k. Her juices squirted around his shaft, soaking his balls and the table beneath her.

Vincent didn’t stop. He f****d her straight through her orgasm, chasing his own release.

He pulled out suddenly, flipped her over, and bent her over the table. Her breasts pressed against the cool wood as he slammed back inside her from behind, gripping her hips hard.

“Take it,” he growled, spanking her ass sharply. “Take every inch of my c**k, you whore.”

Isabelle moaned loudly, pushing her ass back to meet his brutal thrusts. His balls slapped against her c**t with every stroke.

He reached around and rubbed her c**t again while pounding her relentlessly.

“c*m for me Isabelle,” he ordered.

She shattered a third time, her scream echoing through the empty conference room as her p***y milked him violently.

With a deep, guttural groan, Vincent buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of c*m flooded her p***y, filling her completely. He kept thrusting through his orgasm, pumping every last drop deep inside her married cunt.

They stayed connected for a long moment, both breathing heavily.

Finally, Vincent pulled out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as his thick c*m leaked from her well-f****d p***y and dripped down her thighs.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear:

“Go home to your boyfriend like this. I want you sitting across from him at dinner with my c*m still inside you.”

Isabelle trembled, already addicted.