re Office Sex Fantasy
- 4 years ago
- 39
- 0
Working Late At The Office - A Darker Fantasy free porn video
Ten minutes to go. By God has this day dragged but the weekend is in touching distance. You can almost taste that first glass of wine, which no doubt will be followed by many bottles, as you stare hatefully at the clock ticking slowly as if to mock you. There's fuck all else to do in the office and you can't even watch the world pass by because you're on the f******nth story of your corporate prison and the only sight you can make out is the outlines of the face clones pushing numbers around in the building opposite. One more game of Mine Sweeper, maybe you can beat 97 seconds this time... Nine minutes on the clock. What's the fucking point of being here right up to the stroke of 5:30 any way? Any one who phones up now can go fuck themselves and get a life.
Your mind starts to wander again as you stalk the Facebook profile of the hot Head of Sales guy. Sure he's married but that didn't seem to be a problem when he had his cock rammed down your throat at the Christmas party... Damn that was a good night. You'd fingered yourself furiously many times thinking about how his spunk would taste coating the inside of your mouth and he sure didn't disappoint! One day you'd get him inside you again, but in your pussy this time. He could do whatever the hell he wanted with you – everything his wife wouldn't let him. As you drool over that picture of him at the beach you find your hand working on it's own accord to glide between your legs and under your skirt to tend to the tingle your thoughts are creating... Then the phone rings and you snap back out of your dream world of passion. You look at the clock first, hoping that they'd give up and hang up but they don't. With a sigh you pick up to see what the fucker wants.
“I want to see you in my office now,” it's your boss, Mr Jameson. He never does worry about small talk or niceties, he's always straight to the point. Would it kill him to say please though? For a moment you're tempted to tell him where to shove it but it's not worth the hassle.
“Right away, sir,” you say, trying not to let your voice give away how fed up you are. You sigh and adjust your hair – to get to your boss's office you have to pass the Head of Sales so it's not all bad. As an after thought you open another button on your shirt to let a bit more cleavage peek out – maybe he'll catch an eye full now, track you down in a bar and you'll end up having drunken sex in some grotty toilet somewhere. If not at least he might have a quick tug over the thought of your tits later. You make sure he's watching you as you walk past with confidence, tossing your hair aside in a way that you know drives men wild and glancing over your shoulder to treat him to a kinky smile before leaving his eye line, feeling his gaze follow your arse.
But that's all the fun you're going to have for now you realise as you reach your boss's door and knock. Mr Jameson always has a bit of an ego trip when he has an audience and he can go on for hours. You're summoned into the extravagant office and invited to sit in the luxurious leather chair by his desk. Mr Jameson is middle aged but has kept a handle on his health unlike a lot of men his age. His hair is greying but in the dignified way of experience rather than submitting to inevitable aging, and his face could have been very handsome in his younger days.
As he talks to you about performance reviews and targets your mind drifts away while you're body keeps up the illusion that you're paying attention. You look around the room as much as you can get away with, trying to avoid looking at the clock which would remind you that you should be heading home by now. Directly behind him is a balcony and every time you're in here you can't help feeling jealous of his superior view of the city. Out of the corner of your eye you notice his computer screen is on your Facebook profile and there is a box of tissues beside the keyboard, but he hasn't had a cold in his life... You want to shudder but contain yourself and try to pay attention to what he's saying.
“Of course, there are systems in place that can help both parties reach a satisfactory agreement on issues such as this,” you try and wrack your brains for what he was talking about as he leans in slightly over his desk, waiting for a response.
“Of course, that sounds OK,” you hazard a guess at the response and the wide smile he returns with makes you think that you got away without listening.
“Very good. Naturally this would all be off the record and you must keep absolutely silent about it, otherwise you'll be in a worse position than you are now,” his voice sounds like it's trembling at the edges and you notice that his eyes are wandering. Suddenly you regret opening that extra button on your shirt because now your boss is feasting his eyes on your amazing tits. He rises to his feet and you can't help but notice a bulge in his trousers. You feel uneasy but you also find yourself a bit impressed at the size of it. He offers you a glass of champagne and you politely accept, savouring the feel of the bubbles down your throat and the alcohol in your head.
You take another sip and Mr Jameson leans in close to plant a hard kiss on your neck, he softly moans in your ear about how he loves the way you smell and his arm darts around your body to grasp your waist, pinning you to the chair. Fuck, so that's what you agreed to... His other hand hastily fumbles at his belts as he starts to tightly grab the flesh under your shirt at your side. He pulls up your shirt a little so he can run his fingers on your bare skin, his cold fingers causing you to gasp in surprise.
Faced with his growing bulge you know you won't be able to get out of it now but your heart races as you desperately seek an escape route. He grabs your wrist and places it on his open belt, ordering you to unleash his cock. Unable to refuse you try to delay the moment to give you more time to think but are forced to lower his zip and pry open his trousers. Frustrated at your hesitation, Mr Jameson pulls out his cock himself and thrusts it close to your face. You knew it was going to be large from the bulge but now that it was getting more erect it's an even greater sight to behold. A glimmering drop of precum already glares at you from the end of his dick, hovering inches from your eyes.
“Suck it or you're fired, bitch,” Jameson barks. His hand squeezes your side hard and you open your mouth to yelp at the pain. Like a flash he forces his cock between your lips and holds your head in place. His thick length stretches your mouth and stops you from inhaling anything but his cock. You cough and splutter at the sudden assault on your face but his groans only suggest that he enjoys your discomfort. With one hand on the back of your head – fingers tugging at strands of hair – Jameson tears at your shirt buttons with his other hand, desperate to feel your tits in his palm.
With tears starting to form at the corner of your eyes, you look up at the man fucking your face with increasing intensity as you muffle more protests. He pulls away for a moment, strings of his precum breaking away from his cock and dropping onto your chin and cleavage, and slaps you across the face with all his force. Panting for breath, you raise a hand to your stinging cheek and look at him with fear in your eyes. He pulls you roughly by the hair back onto his cock and mascara stained tears start to run as you take his whole length down to his balls in your throat. The more you struggle and try to push him away, the further Jameson forces his dick into your face.
Meanwhile his other hand tears open your shirt and pulls up your bra so that his fingers can squeeze and scratch at your nipples, forcing them to grow hard against your will. Your body betrays you as you feel yourself getting wet between the legs, lapping up the abusive attention you've long craved. His hands aren't kind to your tits as he pulls at your nipples and slaps your flesh, the pain of each pinch or impact rushing through your body.
He adjusts his cock inside your mouth so that it bulges against your cheek – if he fucked you any harder he's rip right through your face. Then he slaps you again, even harder this time so that your head is knocked off his dick. Another slap quickly follows and you spin around in the chair under the force. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you to your feet, dragging you towards the balcony where he holds you in his strong hands. You scream and fight him the best you can but he's more powerful than you. Even when you wriggle a hand free and scratch his face with your nails, drawing blood on his cheek, he is quick to restrain you again.
He bends you over the railing of the balcony and pins you in place with his forearm digging into your back while his other hand lifts your skirt up. Looking down f******n storeys your heart beats faster and faster and faster, the fear that you could fall adding to the fear of what your boss wants to do to you. Mr Jameson tugs your panties down your legs and removes them over your heels, exposing your cunt to him – your curiously wet pussy receiving all of his attention. He bundles your panties into a ball and shoves them in your mouth as a mock gag and picks you up by the waist. Your feet leave the ground so that the only thing standing between you and a long drop is his mighty grip on your body. The experience is terrifying and your breathing quickens as tears stream from your eyes, turning your face into a mess of stained make up.
He thrusts his rock hard cock into your pussy with no regard for your pleasure. He doesn't tease you, he doesn't gently work his way in, his first thrust is as powerful as the many that are to follow it. His entrance is painful for your tight pussy and you scream into your panties stuffed in your mouth. As he fucks you swiftly and powerfully he grabs your hair and pulls so tight that it feels as if your scalp will be torn off. He spanks your arse with aggressive slaps, leaving your cheeks red and sore. With each strike you can feel the hard wedding ring on his finger and you know it's leaving and imprint on your skin as if he's branding you as his property. He grabs at your tits and his nails dig into your flesh. He uses every part of your body in any way he wants and each new technique is more painful than the last but the more you cry out the faster he fucks you.
His cock throbs uncontrollably deep inside your pussy and you know that he's about to cum. One hand grabs your throat and grasps it firmly while the other raises high for a final spank. When his palm meets your flesh with a slap that echoes across the entire city you feel his hot spunk burn the inside of your cunt. Wave after wave of his cum mix with your own treacherous juices and begin dripping down your thigh. He holds himself inside you as you dangle way above the ground, your knuckles white from gripping so tightly to the banister. His breathing slows as he lowers you to the ground again and walks away, zipping his cock up before sitting in his chair, completely ignoring you.
Too ashamed and scared to stick around, you grab your shirt and run out of his office with your tits and cunt still naked against the air. You dress yourself in the toilets while sobbing and calming yourself but your body feels strangely satisfied, aroused even. After a while, you pick yourself up, readjust your make up and hair then prepare to face the world. Then a thought hits you and you take your panties off again, leaving them in Mr Jameson's pigeon hole as you head out to the city's night life in search of the Head of Sales guy...
Your mind starts to wander again as you stalk the Facebook profile of the hot Head of Sales guy. Sure he's married but that didn't seem to be a problem when he had his cock rammed down your throat at the Christmas party... Damn that was a good night. You'd fingered yourself furiously many times thinking about how his spunk would taste coating the inside of your mouth and he sure didn't disappoint! One day you'd get him inside you again, but in your pussy this time. He could do whatever the hell he wanted with you – everything his wife wouldn't let him. As you drool over that picture of him at the beach you find your hand working on it's own accord to glide between your legs and under your skirt to tend to the tingle your thoughts are creating... Then the phone rings and you snap back out of your dream world of passion. You look at the clock first, hoping that they'd give up and hang up but they don't. With a sigh you pick up to see what the fucker wants.
“I want to see you in my office now,” it's your boss, Mr Jameson. He never does worry about small talk or niceties, he's always straight to the point. Would it kill him to say please though? For a moment you're tempted to tell him where to shove it but it's not worth the hassle.
“Right away, sir,” you say, trying not to let your voice give away how fed up you are. You sigh and adjust your hair – to get to your boss's office you have to pass the Head of Sales so it's not all bad. As an after thought you open another button on your shirt to let a bit more cleavage peek out – maybe he'll catch an eye full now, track you down in a bar and you'll end up having drunken sex in some grotty toilet somewhere. If not at least he might have a quick tug over the thought of your tits later. You make sure he's watching you as you walk past with confidence, tossing your hair aside in a way that you know drives men wild and glancing over your shoulder to treat him to a kinky smile before leaving his eye line, feeling his gaze follow your arse.
But that's all the fun you're going to have for now you realise as you reach your boss's door and knock. Mr Jameson always has a bit of an ego trip when he has an audience and he can go on for hours. You're summoned into the extravagant office and invited to sit in the luxurious leather chair by his desk. Mr Jameson is middle aged but has kept a handle on his health unlike a lot of men his age. His hair is greying but in the dignified way of experience rather than submitting to inevitable aging, and his face could have been very handsome in his younger days.
As he talks to you about performance reviews and targets your mind drifts away while you're body keeps up the illusion that you're paying attention. You look around the room as much as you can get away with, trying to avoid looking at the clock which would remind you that you should be heading home by now. Directly behind him is a balcony and every time you're in here you can't help feeling jealous of his superior view of the city. Out of the corner of your eye you notice his computer screen is on your Facebook profile and there is a box of tissues beside the keyboard, but he hasn't had a cold in his life... You want to shudder but contain yourself and try to pay attention to what he's saying.
“Of course, there are systems in place that can help both parties reach a satisfactory agreement on issues such as this,” you try and wrack your brains for what he was talking about as he leans in slightly over his desk, waiting for a response.
“Of course, that sounds OK,” you hazard a guess at the response and the wide smile he returns with makes you think that you got away without listening.
“Very good. Naturally this would all be off the record and you must keep absolutely silent about it, otherwise you'll be in a worse position than you are now,” his voice sounds like it's trembling at the edges and you notice that his eyes are wandering. Suddenly you regret opening that extra button on your shirt because now your boss is feasting his eyes on your amazing tits. He rises to his feet and you can't help but notice a bulge in his trousers. You feel uneasy but you also find yourself a bit impressed at the size of it. He offers you a glass of champagne and you politely accept, savouring the feel of the bubbles down your throat and the alcohol in your head.
You take another sip and Mr Jameson leans in close to plant a hard kiss on your neck, he softly moans in your ear about how he loves the way you smell and his arm darts around your body to grasp your waist, pinning you to the chair. Fuck, so that's what you agreed to... His other hand hastily fumbles at his belts as he starts to tightly grab the flesh under your shirt at your side. He pulls up your shirt a little so he can run his fingers on your bare skin, his cold fingers causing you to gasp in surprise.
Faced with his growing bulge you know you won't be able to get out of it now but your heart races as you desperately seek an escape route. He grabs your wrist and places it on his open belt, ordering you to unleash his cock. Unable to refuse you try to delay the moment to give you more time to think but are forced to lower his zip and pry open his trousers. Frustrated at your hesitation, Mr Jameson pulls out his cock himself and thrusts it close to your face. You knew it was going to be large from the bulge but now that it was getting more erect it's an even greater sight to behold. A glimmering drop of precum already glares at you from the end of his dick, hovering inches from your eyes.
“Suck it or you're fired, bitch,” Jameson barks. His hand squeezes your side hard and you open your mouth to yelp at the pain. Like a flash he forces his cock between your lips and holds your head in place. His thick length stretches your mouth and stops you from inhaling anything but his cock. You cough and splutter at the sudden assault on your face but his groans only suggest that he enjoys your discomfort. With one hand on the back of your head – fingers tugging at strands of hair – Jameson tears at your shirt buttons with his other hand, desperate to feel your tits in his palm.
With tears starting to form at the corner of your eyes, you look up at the man fucking your face with increasing intensity as you muffle more protests. He pulls away for a moment, strings of his precum breaking away from his cock and dropping onto your chin and cleavage, and slaps you across the face with all his force. Panting for breath, you raise a hand to your stinging cheek and look at him with fear in your eyes. He pulls you roughly by the hair back onto his cock and mascara stained tears start to run as you take his whole length down to his balls in your throat. The more you struggle and try to push him away, the further Jameson forces his dick into your face.
Meanwhile his other hand tears open your shirt and pulls up your bra so that his fingers can squeeze and scratch at your nipples, forcing them to grow hard against your will. Your body betrays you as you feel yourself getting wet between the legs, lapping up the abusive attention you've long craved. His hands aren't kind to your tits as he pulls at your nipples and slaps your flesh, the pain of each pinch or impact rushing through your body.
He adjusts his cock inside your mouth so that it bulges against your cheek – if he fucked you any harder he's rip right through your face. Then he slaps you again, even harder this time so that your head is knocked off his dick. Another slap quickly follows and you spin around in the chair under the force. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you to your feet, dragging you towards the balcony where he holds you in his strong hands. You scream and fight him the best you can but he's more powerful than you. Even when you wriggle a hand free and scratch his face with your nails, drawing blood on his cheek, he is quick to restrain you again.
He bends you over the railing of the balcony and pins you in place with his forearm digging into your back while his other hand lifts your skirt up. Looking down f******n storeys your heart beats faster and faster and faster, the fear that you could fall adding to the fear of what your boss wants to do to you. Mr Jameson tugs your panties down your legs and removes them over your heels, exposing your cunt to him – your curiously wet pussy receiving all of his attention. He bundles your panties into a ball and shoves them in your mouth as a mock gag and picks you up by the waist. Your feet leave the ground so that the only thing standing between you and a long drop is his mighty grip on your body. The experience is terrifying and your breathing quickens as tears stream from your eyes, turning your face into a mess of stained make up.
He thrusts his rock hard cock into your pussy with no regard for your pleasure. He doesn't tease you, he doesn't gently work his way in, his first thrust is as powerful as the many that are to follow it. His entrance is painful for your tight pussy and you scream into your panties stuffed in your mouth. As he fucks you swiftly and powerfully he grabs your hair and pulls so tight that it feels as if your scalp will be torn off. He spanks your arse with aggressive slaps, leaving your cheeks red and sore. With each strike you can feel the hard wedding ring on his finger and you know it's leaving and imprint on your skin as if he's branding you as his property. He grabs at your tits and his nails dig into your flesh. He uses every part of your body in any way he wants and each new technique is more painful than the last but the more you cry out the faster he fucks you.
His cock throbs uncontrollably deep inside your pussy and you know that he's about to cum. One hand grabs your throat and grasps it firmly while the other raises high for a final spank. When his palm meets your flesh with a slap that echoes across the entire city you feel his hot spunk burn the inside of your cunt. Wave after wave of his cum mix with your own treacherous juices and begin dripping down your thigh. He holds himself inside you as you dangle way above the ground, your knuckles white from gripping so tightly to the banister. His breathing slows as he lowers you to the ground again and walks away, zipping his cock up before sitting in his chair, completely ignoring you.
Too ashamed and scared to stick around, you grab your shirt and run out of his office with your tits and cunt still naked against the air. You dress yourself in the toilets while sobbing and calming yourself but your body feels strangely satisfied, aroused even. After a while, you pick yourself up, readjust your make up and hair then prepare to face the world. Then a thought hits you and you take your panties off again, leaving them in Mr Jameson's pigeon hole as you head out to the city's night life in search of the Head of Sales guy...
Myra
- 22.03.2022
- 24
- 0
Thangaiku Theriyaamal Amma Magalai Oothen
- 2 years ago
- 195
- 0
The CompoundChapter 3 Grandfather s Offices
- 2 years ago
- 53
- 0
