Just Act Natural

Alex sat at the dining room table, hunched over her laptop, fingers hammering keys like the damn thing owed her money. Earbuds plugged in. Tunnel vision. The whole deal. Jezabel slid behind her, arms snaking around her shoulders, but Alex barely looked up. Just that half-second nod she gives when her brain's already halfway down the next email. Jezabel asked about lunch. Alex shook her head. Then the shoulder thing. Alex said she had a call coming up. Said it twice. But Jezabel's hands already knew what they were doing, pressing deep, and Alex's spine started to melt. Little by little. She stopped typing as fast. Then Jezabel dropped down. Under the table. Said something about her legs being tight from sitting all day. Hands on calves. Then thighs. Alex shifted in the chair, didn't even realize how wound up she was till those thumbs dug in. Jezabel got that look—mischievous, trouble coming—and tugged Alex's legs apart. Panties gone in one smooth pull. Then her mouth was on Alex's pussy and Alex's whole body jolted like she'd been shocked. She gasped loud, clapped a hand over her mouth too late. The call started. Alex tried to stay focused, tried to keep her voice even while Jezabel licked slow and filthy under the table. Every time Alex had to speak, Jezabel would change rhythm. Alex bit her lip so hard it almost bled. Still, no one on the screen noticed a thing. Question is, how long can she fake it before her voice cracks wide open?