Everything for the Job

Kiara wants the job so bad she can taste it. She shows up in Victor’s living room wearing the white button-down that already strains across her small, braless tits. Her short blonde hair is tucked behind one ear. Victor keeps repeating that he needs someone older, someone who’s done this before. Kiara listens for a moment, then drops to her knees on the carpet right in front of him. She undoes his belt with steady fingers and pulls him out. He’s half-hard already, heavy against her tongue when she slides him between her lips. She takes him deep on the first slow push, cheeks hollowing, a wet sound filling the quiet room. Victor’s hand settles on the back of her head, not guiding so much as holding on. She works him in steady strokes, saliva glistening on his shaft each time she pulls off to breathe. When she finally stands, she turns, bends at the waist over the arm of the couch, and peels her shorts down just far enough. Victor steps in close, lines up, and pushes inside in one long thrust. Kiara’s breath catches, her short hair falling across her face as he starts to move. He grips her hips hard, fucking her in quick, solid strokes that make her small body rock forward on every thrust. She reaches back, spreads herself wider for him, lets him take whatever he wants. He finishes deep, pulse after pulse, her tight cunt milking every drop. When he pulls out, a thick string of cum slips down the inside of her thigh. Kiara straightens, buttoning her shorts again with shaky hands, cheeks flushed. Victor watches her, breathing hard. She meets his eyes. “So,” she says, voice still a little ragged, “do I have the job?”