Wank From Home

Spencer and Maya work from home. Locked in a fight over who fucks better. They agree to settle it with one rule: whoever comes first loses. Calls are coming. Neither of them waits. They pull their chairs close, cameras on, mics live. Below the desk their hands go to work. Maya’s fingers slip inside Spencer’s pants, working slow and steady. Spencer slides two fingers under Maya’s skirt and pushes in deep. The first call starts. Maya’s client asks a question. She answers clean, voice steady, while Spencer curls his fingers and finds the spot that makes her thighs twitch. Her grip on him tightens, strokes harder, daring him to break first. Spencer’s call cuts in. He talks numbers, keeps his face blank, but Maya’s thumb drags over the head of his cock with every word. Pre-cum slicks her hand. He pulses in her fist, close already, fighting it. Sweat beads on Maya’s upper lip. Spencer’s jaw clenches. They keep their eyes on the screens, voices professional, while under the desk the wet sounds grow louder. Fingers move faster. Breathing turns shallow. Neither looks at the other. Neither wants to show weakness. The second call drags on. Someone on Maya’s screen asks if she’s okay—she looks flushed. She blames the heat, shifts in her chair, takes Spencer deeper. He counters by rubbing her clit in tight circles, feeling her walls flutter around his fingers. Her legs start to shake. They’re both right there, bodies tight, trying not to moan into professional microphones. The contest hangs on every stolen second. Whoever breaks first loses everything.