Business Call

Sheena sits behind her desk taking numbers in a silk blouse that clings when she leans forward. Diana slips into the office without knocking and goes straight for the zipper of that skirt. Sheena shoots her a warning glance but keeps talking, voice smooth as she debates futures and futures margins. Diana doesn't care about the call. She sinks to her knees, palms sliding up the inside of Sheena's thighs until she finds bare skin and wet heat. Fingers tease. Sheena spreads wider, still dictating buy orders while Diana's tongue finds her clit and works it slow, deliberate, unafraid of being caught. Minutes stretch. The caller drones. Sheena's breathing tightens, one hand in Diana's hair, guiding her without ever letting the conversation slip. When she finally says good-bye and kills the line, she drags Diana up by the wrists and bends her over the same desk, the phone call already forgotten.