Secretary & Lover

Some days the immigration office holds its breath. But even silence feels charged when Toby watches his secretary Alexa move across the room. Her dark hair is pinned up, skirt hugging the curve of her hips, blouse half-unbuttoned from the heat of a long shift. They’ve both tried ignoring it. Today they stop trying. She meets his eyes, then kneels between his knees before his desk. Zippers whisper. Her lips wrap around him, warm and wet, tongue working the underside in slow, deliberate strokes. Toby’s head tips back. He fists her hair, guiding her deeper, throat relaxing as she takes every inch, saliva trailing down her chin onto the front of her blouse. Alexa rises, strips the blouse away. Her full breasts spill free—olive skin, dark nipples already tight. She turns, bends, hikes her skirt, and Toby slides into her in one smooth thrust. She gasps, gripping the edge of the desk, pushing back to meet him. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes between filing cabinets. He grips her waist, drives harder, pulling her onto him again and again until her moans grow ragged. When he’s close, he pulls out. Alexa drops to her knees once more, lips parted, eyes lifted. He strokes once, twice. Thick ropes stripe her mouth and cheeks, white against her flushed skin. She swallows what lands on her tongue, licks the rest from her lower lip, and smiles like the workday just got a lot more interesting.