Keeping Calm Under Pressure

Skylar Snow stepped into the office looking equal parts rattled and thrilled. Sovereign Syre closed the door, offered the chair, and the formalities began. Crisp questions about her résumé, curt nods when the answers landed. Yet, almost casually, Sovereign slipped a hand beneath the table, fingers sliding straight inside. The interview continued. While Skylar outlined campaign frameworks and platform roll-outs, Sovereign’s thumb circled her clit with ruthless patience. Breath hitched, voice wavered, but Skylar kept talking. Every polished sentence earned her a firmer stroke, a fresh glide of wetness. Then the landline rang. Sovereign’s grin sharpened; she slid the receiver toward Skylar. The girl swallowed, lifted it, and introduced herself in the stead of her interviewer. On the other end, an accountant droned numbers. Under the desk, Sovereign dropped to her knees, mouth sealing over Skylar’s cunt. Skylar’s free hand clenched the receiver; her thighs trembled. She managed to propose slashing per diems and trimming the payroll, but every proposed layoff left her lip quivering as Sovereign sucked harder. A moan threatened. She choked it back into an awkward cough and apologized to the caller. Details swam. Sovereign, pleased, spread her legs in silent invitation. Skylar sank lower, tongue replacing doubt, tasting her new boss while cost projections stuttered across the line, proof this meeting had bypassed anything ordinary.