I can feel the cool air in his office on my heated backside and it lightly kisses my wetness from my orgasm, making me shiver until I feel his body heat behind me as he moves closer. Using my juices, he brushes the thick, mushroom head of his cock up and down my drenched folds and I moan. As soon as I do, he stops and I turn my head, looking back at him like I’m about to kill him.
“Quiet raven, or I’ll have to stop. We’ve been over the walls and the sound quality of my office already.”
I don’t get to comment on the nickname or where we even got to the stage where he can make up one for me, which is selfish since I never call him by his name in my head. When he moves his velvety cock against my folds again, I push back, accepting all of him. “Oh, fuck,” I cry before I cover my mouth to hold in my list of expletives. How could I forget how big this bastard is?
He moves like a man on a mission, making it all so difficult for me to keep quiet. His thrusts are relentless and he holds me still, pressing his hand on my back. This is a man who definitely knows how to use his equipment. Did he learn this shit in college or does he watch a bunch of porn? I don’t know how, but his dick always seems to find my g-spot, like a heat seeking missile locked onto its target. I soon give up on keeping my cries in and I grip the edge of his desk with both hands, so tight I’d probably leave my fingerprints behind embedded in the wood if I were strong enough. His big hand replaces mine, covering my mouth for me and in this position, he’s able to drill impossibly deeper.
“Fuck, you’re so damn tight. Your pussy always grips me like a vice,” he murmurs and I preen like a freaking cat at his words. “Would my little raven like to cum?” He asks between strokes and I dig in deep to remember the English language. “What’s that, raven?” He demands.
He moves his hand long enough for me to moan, “Yes please.” I don’t care that I’m begging. His dick feels too damn good to think about my self-righteousness.
Moving his hand from my mouth and back, he grips my hips tight and like a rubber band, he snaps, ramming into my body like he’s raging war and my cunt is the keep. I’m a moaning, sobbing mess, hoping he was kidding about the walls because the quiet boat has long set sail. Surely this snooty ass firm can afford sound proofing? Seconds later, I’m cumming again and I have to bite my cheek to prevent myself from screaming his name.
“Good girl,” he praises as he continues his punishing pace. Strong hands pull me to him and I move to help him fuck me. When he cums, he bites my shoulder, roaring my name into my skin. Like the first time, his dick pumps gallons of his baby batter into me until he’s filled me to the brim and it leaks out.
We’re both breathing hard. The only sound in the room is our breaths and the quiet hum of the central air. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears. When he moves, he goes into his office bathroom and comes back out with a warm rag he uses to clean me up. I watch him carefully as he moves to pull my yoga pants up my body and straighten my clothes. My panties are a loss cause and he just balls them up and puts them in his pocket before pulling me flush against his body and softly kissing my forehead. I don’t know what is different but this time he’s not being a jerk. Sure, he fucked me into his desk but at least he’s not treating me like an object.
“So, I’ll see you Monday morning at 8:30 AM sharp,” he says, breaking the silence.
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“The job, raven,” he replies, reminding me of why I came here in the first place.
“I never said I’m taking the job.”
“I believe your pussy answered for you when you creamed all over my dick,” he retorts before he smiles and holy sweet Jesus, what a smile it is.
“You can’t use your dick as a negotiator,” I reply when I find my voice again.
“Okay then, how about this?” He says and then kisses the daylights out of me and I moan in his mouth. I swear my eyes just rolled in the back of my head. That’s how good McHottie’s kisses are.
“Fine,” I relent when he pulls back and I find my voice once again.
“Thank you,” he adds, shocking me. He’s never thanked me, ever. I didn’t even know the words were in his vocabulary.
I leave dazed, wondering what the hell just happened. It wasn’t even the naughty office sex, but the fact that McHottie was civil. In my car, I can still feel him inside me or is it the buckets of cum he filled me with? When I get back to my room, I think about him as the warm water from the shower soothes away my aches.
Nichole
“You know, Ms. Hastings, you really should tell your husband about this. It’s my professional opinion that your support system is crucial to the development of your health. Besides, it won’t be long before you start showing signs and he’ll guess anyway.”
“Doctor Mayfield, I appreciate your professional advice but there’s no way I’m telling my husband the cancer is back. I put him through hell the first time. He tried to hide it from me and was there for me, but I still saw. This... once he finds this out, it will destroy him.”
“As always, it’s your choice...”
“It is,” I say, interrupting him. “Is the diagnosis still the same?” I inquire. It’s been four months since the last time I was in this office and Doctor Mayfield told me the cancer had returned. I’ve been on experimental drugs while him and other doctors on the cancer board come up with another course of action. That’s when I came up with my own plan. I’m not hopeful, nor am I sitting around hoping to be cured. Nothing short of a miracle can save me. I know I’m going to die, but at least I can do something worthwhile before I do.
“Yes, the diagnosis is still the same. Your X-rays show the cancer has come back more aggressively this time, already having traveled to your lungs and liver. I’ve presented your case to cancer boards all over the world, and we’ve all come to the conclusion that even with treatment, you still have only a year to live. We can still do surgery to have the lung removed and restart radiation treatments as well as keep you on the prescribed experimental drugs, and maybe we can buy you some more time.”
“Why?” I ask. “It will only be time spent in recovery from invasive surgeries that take so much out of me, not to mention the pain and agony from the disease. Why prolong that? If I only have a year, I want to live my life. Give my husband happy memories and not ones spent with him watching me fade away in a hospital bed or puking my guts out in the bathroom.”
“Then I still recommend you take the drugs and come in for low doses of chemo. Those treatments will not change anything you’re already going through. I’ll even suggest you start taking medicinal marijuana to help with pain management.”
I nod, agreeing. As he talks about my condition, my mind drifts off to Grayson and Jade. I figure I have less than six months before my health status comes to light. Before then, Jade has to get pregnant. I have no doubts in her reproductive capabilities, it’s Grayson I’m worried about. His loyalty to me is distantiating him from her and she won’t get pregnant if he keeps pushing her away. I was appalled by his behavior at dinner. The things he insinuated. I was even more dismayed with myself for threatening her to stay, but I couldn’t allow her to leave. She and the baby will be the only thing he’ll be able to cling to once I’m gone. I know my husband, and I have no intentions of letting him follow me to the afterlife or ruin his life because I’m gone.