Intern-al affair

Hot fucking the new intern had slid into the job description the way perks always do—quietly, then not quietly at all. He stayed late. I stayed bent. Every command I gave, he obeyed: meeting agendas, expense reports, and now this—his tongue pressed flat against my cunt, licking like it was the only language he knew. I had him kneel on my carpeted office floor, skirt hitched to my hips, thighs spread wide around the leather arms of my chair. He licked and sucked, slow at first, then deeper, and I watched his mouth get glossy. Every time I got close I pulled him back by the hair until he whined, lips shiny, chin wet. Then I let him finish me—kept him there until the last tremor stopped, until he’d swallowed every drop he’d coaxed out of me. After that, he went back to filing invoices. I smoothed my skirt and buzzed accounting. Business as usual, just wetter.