More To Love

Michael Vegas called his wife to blow off lunch. Too busy, he said. Sarah Arabic got the lie in stereo and drove over with takeout, already smiling at the surprise she’d cooked up. She walked straight into the secretary’s wet dream of a blowjob. Karla Lane’s knees were on the carpet, dress bunched at her waist, taking Michael to the back of her throat. He saw the door swing and shoved her under the desk. Too late. Sarah saw everything. Karla slipped out smiling, lipstick ruined. Michael left fast for “utensils,” and the second the door shut, Sarah told the girl what she’d come to say: I know, and I’m not leaving you alone with him anymore. Then she grabbed Karla by the throat and kissed her like she meant to bruise. When Michael walked back in they were already half-naked on his desk, Sarah’s tongue deep in Karla’s cunt, both of them looking straight at him. Sarah lifted her mouth, spit shining her lips. “You want back in my good graces?” she asked. “Then we share her. Right here, right now. Or you can watch me keep her for myself.” Michael dropped the takeout. Clothes hit the floor. Hands, mouths, and the wet slap of skin filled the room. Sarah rode his cock while Karla straddled her face; then he bent Sarah over the blotter and Karla licked them both where they joined. No one left that office until every inch of Karla Lane was used twice and dripping.