LUST & SIN (A Collection Of Steamy Desires)

FAWKING OVERTIME Chapter 2

—NEXT DAY, EVENING—

Dylan walked into the employee department. He slammed the documents on Camille's desk. "Even after staying overtime yesterday, you still couldn't finish the project." He yelled, making Camille and the other employees flinch.

"I'm sorry, boss. I have a sucky grandmother and she..."

"You are to work overtime for a week, and if you still don't finish it by then, you will work extra for a month." He cut her off.

"I'll, boss." She replied. He ignored her and walked away.

"Camille, if your grandmother is really sick, I could help you..."

"No!" Camille snapped quickly that she intended to. The female employee looked at her strangely, recoiling back into her seat. Camille let out an awkward laugh, "I'm sorry...I know you are trying to help, but..."

"It's okay, it's fine, I get you." The employee smiled.

"Thanks," Camille muttered.

—NIGHT—

Immediately after the last employee walked out of the company, Camille locked the door to the main entrance. She stripped naked before walking to the CEO'S office. She frowned when she found it empty, but her frown disappeared as fast as it came when she heard the sound of water running in a sink.

She pushed the door into the office; she stepped in; it was a private bathroom. She spotted the CEO at the sink, washing his hands.

"Here for my c**k again?" Dylan smirked, walking closer to her.

"Here to get my p***y ripped, ruined and stretched." She replied, playing with her n*****s slightly.

Dylan’s eyes dragged over her bare body, already hard in his pants. He grabbed her by the throat, not tight enough to choke, just enough to push her back against the cold marble sink.

“Then get on your f*****g knees and show me how bad you need it…”

Camille dropped without hesitation. She yanked his belt open, dragged his pants and boxers down, and his c**k sprang free, heavy and already leaking at the tip. She wrapped both hands around it and stuffed him into her mouth, sucking hard, spit already running down her chin.

“f**k… look at you… choking on it already…” he muttered, gripping her hair and shoving deeper.

She gagged around him, eyes watering, but kept taking more, messy and hungry. When he pulled her off, a thick string of spit connected her lips to his c**k.

He spun her around, bent her over the sink, and slammed into her from behind in one hard thrust.

“Ahhh...shit...boss...” she gasped, forehead pressing to the mirror.

He gripped her hips and started pounding her rough, the wet slap of skin echoing off the tiles. Each thrust drove her forward until her t**s smashed against the cold marble.

“This is what you came for… getting your cunt wrecked in my bathroom…”

“Yes… f**k me… ruin it… please…” Her voice came out broken, higher than yesterday, almost desperate. “Harder… don’t hold back…”

He f****d her harder, one hand sliding around to rub her c**t in rough circles while he kept slamming in. Her legs shook. She pushed back to meet every thrust, greedy for more.

After a few minutes, he pulled out, spun her again, and lifted her onto the counter. He spread her thighs wide, hooked them over his arms, and drove back in deep.

“Look at that… stretched around me… dripping all over my sink…”

Camille’s head fell back against the mirror, mouth open. Soft, breathy “nnnh… ah… f**k…” spilled out of her every time he bottomed out. She reached down and spread her own p***y wider with her fingers so he could watch himself disappear inside her.

“Deeper… please… I want to feel it in my stomach…”

He gave it to her, hips snapping hard and fast. The counter shook. Water from the earlier sink still dripped onto her bare back.

When her thighs started trembling hard, he pulled out again, dragged her off the counter, and pushed her against the glass shower door. He lifted one of her legs high, almost to his shoulder, and thrust back in, f*****g her standing.

“You’re so f*****g wet… making a mess of my bathroom floor…”

“Because of you… only you… keep going… don’t stop…” Her moans turned into short, broken whimpers now, “uh… uh… yes… like that…”

He kept the pace brutal, the glass fogging from their heat. Her free hand braced against it, leaving wet prints.

He finally pulled out, turned her, and bent her over the toilet tank. One hard shove and he was buried again, pounding her from behind while she gripped the edges.

“Tell me what you are…”

“Your overtime slut… your dirty little hole… use me…”

He reached under, pinched her c**t hard, and she broke. A loud, shaky “fuck...I’m cumming...” ripped out of her as her p***y clenched and fluttered around him, juices running down her thighs.

He didn’t stop. He f****d her through it until she was oversensitive and still pushing back for more. Only when her legs nearly gave out did he pull free, spin her around, and push her to her knees again.

“Open…”

She opened her mouth. He stroked himself twice and came across her tongue and lips, thick spurts landing on her face and dripping down her chin. She swallowed what she could and licked the rest off her lips while he watched.

Dylan looked down at her, still breathing hard.

“Clean yourself up. We’ve got six more nights of overtime left… and I plan to use every surface in this building.”

Camille wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, already smiling.

“Yes, boss.”

Dylan grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her out of the bathroom still dripping. He shoved the office door open, dragged her straight to the floor-to-ceiling window, and pressed her naked body against the cold glass.

“Hands on the glass… now.”

Camille obeyed, palms flat, t**s squashed against the window. City lights glowed far below. He kicked her feet apart, lined up, and drove into her from behind in one rough thrust.

“Nnngh—f**k—” she choked out, breath fogging the glass.

He gripped her hips and started slamming into her, deep and hard, the wet slap of skin loud in the quiet office. Every thrust shoved her harder against the window, her n*****s scraping the cold surface.

“Taking it so deep… like you were made for this c**k…”

“Yes… break me open… keep going…” Her voice came out low and strained, different from before.

He pulled out, spun her around, and lifted one of her thighs high against his hip. From the front he shoved back in, burying himself to the hilt while her back hit the glass. He f****d her standing, one hand under her thigh, the other braced beside her head. Her free leg trembled as he pounded upward, the angle hitting deeper.

“Look at you… getting railed in front of the whole city…”

“Don’t care… just don’t stop… fill me up…” Soft, broken “mmh… mmh… yes…” spilled from her lips with every thrust.

He shifted again, turning her sideways so her shoulder pressed to the glass. He hooked her top leg over his arm, opened her wide, and drove in from the side. The new angle made her gasp sharp and high. He kept the pace brutal, hips snapping, c**k stretching her open while she watched the reflection of them f*****g in the dark glass.

“This cunt never gets enough… does it…”

“Never… wreck it… use it harder…”

He reached between them, rubbed her c**t roughly with two fingers while he kept slamming in. Her whole body jolted. A long, shaky “ohh—s**t—” tore out of her as she came hard, p***y clamping and flooding around him, juices running down her thigh onto the carpet.

Dylan f****d her through it, then shoved deep one last time and came with a low groan, pumping her full until it leaked out around his c**k and dripped onto the floor.

He stayed buried a second longer, then pulled out slow, watching the mess slide down her leg.

“Still not done for the night… get on the desk.”