Backstage with Pure Angel

She wanted the job. She also wanted the guy who thought she didn’t deserve it. The moment he voiced his doubts, she had him where she wanted—alone, tense, watching her. Blonde hair, black skirt, no patience. She dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, slow at first, then deeper, letting the wet sounds speak for her. He didn’t argue anymore. He pulled her up, bent her over the desk, and fucked her hard, like he’d been thinking about it since the moment she walked in. She kept her eyes on him the whole time. When he came on her face, she smiled—quiet, pleased, victorious.