Working for the Bonus

Berinice knocks twice and steps inside. Cindy Hope looks up, pen between her fingers, and lets her gaze drag slowly down the assistant’s frame. “You want a bonus,” she says, flat and direct. Berinice answers with a nod, not trusting her voice. Cindy points to the middle of the rug and the blonde moves there, heels sinking into the wool. Cindy circles her, fingers brushing over the hem of a silk blouse, popping each button with unhurried clicks. When the shirt parts, Cindy palms one small breast, thumb dragging across the stiff nipple until Berinice’s breath breaks. Cindy lowers herself to the leather edge of her desk and spreads her thighs, skirt already rucked high. “Show me,” she orders. Berinice sinks between the open legs, the taste of her boss thick and sweet against her tongue, soft folds sliding against her lips with every deliberate stroke. Her knees ache from the hard floor, yet she keeps her mouth working, tonguing Cindy open until the woman shudders above her. Cindy’s hand fisting in blonde hair, hips rolling once, twice, the sound of quiet gasps filling the room. Afterwards, Cindy tucks herself back together, scribbles an amount on a company check and slides it across the desk. Berinice takes it with trembling fingers, mascara smudged and lips wet.