Sex is my business

Sex is my business. And my new intern? He comes with the deal. I need him close, attentive, quick to read what I want before I even say it. One afternoon I turn in my chair, spread my legs, and he drops to his knees without a word. His tongue works slowly at first, then faster, flattening against me until everything is slick and gleaming. I keep one hand on his head, guiding him deeper, the other on my phone because business doesn’t stop just because I’m getting licked. He knows the rules: do it right or don’t bother coming back tomorrow. He does it right. Every stroke, every eager flick, leaves me wetter, brighter, shining under the low office lights. He doesn’t speak. He just keeps going, mouth full of me, until the gloss is perfect and I’m satisfied enough to get back to work.