**Blonde’s Secret Touch Beneath the Desk**

I was the manager of a five and ten store and I was hiring a secretary and this beautiful blonde came into my office and asked was I still hiring and I said yea come in and I will i interview you and she did and she shut the door and locked it and I had a large deck and you could see under it and we started talking and I felt her warm feet on top of my pants right where my cock was and then

The sign on my office door said *Keep Out*, but that didn’t stop her. The blonde’s heels clicked against the linoleum as she stepped inside, her curves pressing against the thin fabric of the secretarial application she held too casually for the formality I demanded. The door closed with a quiet snick, then the lock clicked—a sound that made my pulse kick harder than her knock ever could. “Still hiring?” she asked, her voice low, fingers brushing the papers before letting them slide down, slow, deliberate. Her gaze locked onto mine like a dare, lips parted just enough to taste the gold flush of her blush. “Yeah.” The word came out rough. “Come in.” She dropped the form onto my desk with an exaggerated sigh, pressed her palms flat, and took a half-step closer. Her office heels—shiny, fuck-me black—were planted right over the bulge in my slacks, warm through the thin fabric, pressure shifting with every breath. I swallowed, gripped the arms of my chair, but stayed still. Too late to pretend this was an interview. “Tell me about the job,” she murmured, rubbing a slow circle against my fly. The heat of her skin burned through my pants. “I heard it had perks.” I exhaled sharply. “Depends.” Her thighs flexed, the stiletto digging in just enough to shift the weight toward me. The deck beneath the window sagged slightly—goddamn it—leaving half an inch of gap between the floor and the bottom edge. The peach lace of her panties peeked out like a promise I was already too far gone to refuse. “I can be *very* quiet,” she whispered, dragging one toe up my leg. “Prove it.” Her knee landed on the edge of my desk, hips tilting, palms flat against my shoulders. I didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched as the waistband of her satin panties slipped free of my fingers—her legs already spread just enough to let me see the glisten between her thighs. “Interview’s over,” she said, dragging a nail across my neck. “You still hiring?”

The weight of her shifted, the stiletto heel pressing aside just enough to let me slide my palm under, between her feet. She gasped as my fingers curled around the base of my aching cock, guiding it out of my pants, the thick shaft already slick with precome. “Soft?” she panted, toes curling against my wrist. Her scent—sweet with desperation—flooded the air as I rubbed the head against the arch of her foot, testing the angle. “Warm enough for you?” I didn’t answer. My thumb grazed the inside of her ankle, where her pulse fluttered, and she shivered. The black lace of her dress strained against her chest as she let her knees fall open, just a fraction wider, giving me room to brace my arms on the outside of her thighs. She rocked her hips once, twice, letting me hold her upright as her breath hitched. “What if I need more?” I murmured, pressing the crown between her toes, my palm sliding up her calf. “You don’t.” But she moaned as I teased her arch, the skin delicate enough that even the slightest friction made her squirm. The dress bunched higher, her thighs trembling against my grip. “Just... take it.”

As I watched her unbutton her blouse and her beautiful breast came falling out and I could say dam your tits are beautiful

The first button slipped open with a quiet pop. Her fingers trembled—not from cold, but from the deliberate pace she was forcing herself to keep. The second followed, the fabric parting like a slow, deliberate exhale, the lace of her bra just visible beneath. “Hurry,” I growled, voice low enough to sound like a threat against her restraint. But her eyes darkened as she smirked, sliding the cuff of her blouse down one arm. “Impatient?” Her other hand went to the waistband of her skirt, teasing it tight against her hips. The black satin resisted, just like she was. “Maybe I like making you wait.” She let the blouse fall fully, the straps of her bra trailing after it, and I didn’t have to tell her what I wanted next. Her hand closed around her own breast, the cup of the bra stretching with a damp whisper. She squeezed, her nipple peeking through the lattice before she pinched it between thumb and forefinger. “Fuck,” I graaned, fingers flexing around her ankle, digging just enough to make her gasp. “Damn *right*. Beautiful.” Her lips parted on the next breath, gaze flicking up from her own hand to meet mine—still pressed against her thigh, still holding her still as she played. The skirt slithered down, pooling at her feet, and I watched her panties glisten again, the scent thicker. She didn’t move my hand. Just let it stay there, heavy, as her free palm slipped down her stomach, over the curve of her hip, between her legs. The first brush of her fingers against her clit made her arch, her toes curling against my knuckles. “That’s it,” she breathed. “Show me what you’ve got, boss.”

And then she said I bet you want to lay your head in between my legs so you can taste my pussy and I said yea

Her smirk sharpened, dark and knowing, into something almost wicked as she pressed two fingers against my chest. I didn’t hesitate—my hands caught her thighs, lifted, and she hoisted one knee onto the edge of the desk, spreading herself wider. The lace of her underwear glistened with fresh wetness, the scent of her dripping arousal slamming into me like a physical force. I crouched low, shifting my grip so my thumbs dug into the soft flesh just above her knees. She wasn’t wearing enough. I ripped the thin straps of her panties savagely, tearing them down with a single tug. Then I was there—my tongue dragged over her slit, slow and deliberate, testing how her taste would cling to my lips. “You’re wet for me.” It wasn’t a question. The proof was in her fingers tightening around my hair, the way her hips bucked. “Tell me.”

Her breath hitched, fingers tangling deeper in my hair as I pressed my lips against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The sting of her grip was nothing compared to the fire spreading through her, and I dragged my teeth along her skin just to hear the sharp intake of air that came when she tried to keep quiet. “Oh—*fuck*—” she gasped, voice cracking on the curse. Her other hand went to my jaw, nails biting down hard enough to draw blood. “You’re already playing, and you haven’t even—” I ignored her, pushing my mouth higher, then up her slit again, this time lapping at her with a flat, teasing tongue. She was *soaked*, the fabric of her ruined panties still clinging to the inside of her thighs. The scent of her—clean and bright, like something I could drown in—filled my lungs. My own body tightened in response, but I didn’t dare move, not with her legs still spread obscenely over the desk, her pussy begging for more. “You make a mess of me,” I murmured against her skin, teeth grazing the swollen flesh of her labia. “And I *love* it.”

Her laugh was sharp, breathless, fingers curling into my hair as if to steady herself. “So do I,” she whispered, but the words came out uneven, rough with something more carnal than pleasure. “So goddamn *do*—” I growled, the sound vibrating against her flesh as I dragged my tongue over the slick, swollen seam of her pussy. The lace of her underwear was still half-torn down, catching at her hips with every press of my teeth. She tasted like desire, salt and heat, and it was too much—my mouth opened wider, jaws stretching to take more of her as I burrowed my face deeper. “You’re *killing* me,” she hissed, yanking my hair back just enough to let me pull away, gasping for breath. Then she was shoving my face back down, her thighs quivering around my shoulders as I latched onto her clit, sucking hard even as her taste flooded me. The heat of her was unbearable, the way she arched up as I worked her, a desperate whimper breaking in her throat. “Again,” she demanded, voice twisting with something sharp and urgent. “Do it—” I didn’t. Instead, I flattened my tongue and pushed it into the slick, hot entrance of her. She was already too far gone, the wet sounds sloppy against my mouth as her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me closer. The desk rattled, her thighs locking tighter around me, the scent of her growing heavier, richer—fuck, my cock ached, but this wasn’t about me. It was about her.

And then she said lay on the floor so I can climb on your cock and im going to slow fuck you up and down until you can't take it anymore

The moment the words left her lips, the air between us hummed with something electric—no more teasing, no more hesitation. She was *done* waiting. I let her go and knelt, rolling onto my back beneath the weight of her desire. The cold wood pressed against my skin, a stark contrast to the fire licking down my spine. She didn’t hesitate either; her hands were on my belt, fingers fumbling but not gentle as she undid the buckle and wrenched the zipper down. My cock sprang free, already throbbing, already aching. “You’re *hard* for me,” she noted, her tone almost venomous as her fingertips traced the length of me, not stroking—just measuring. The lace of her panties was still tangled around her thighs, but it wasn’t stopping her. She climbed onto the desk, straddling me, her bare pussy pressing against the head of my cock. The wet heat seeped through her thighs, slicking my skin where she touched. “Hands flat,” she growled, and I obeyed, slapping my palms against the wood beside my head. She didn’t waste a second; she shifted back just a little, positioning me with a hard, impatient press. Then she took me, sliding down in one slow, torturous movement, every inch of my cock stretching her open. Her breath came out in a shudder as she locked herself onto me, hips flush against my stomach. “There you are,” she murmured, fingers digging into my shoulders as she pulled her legs back tight, letting me slide out until just the head was still inside her. Then she pushed back down, taking all of me again, the drag of her body making my teeth ache. “Now you *beg*.”

The way she moved down me again, slow but deliberate, was *insane*—her walls clenching like velvet, hot and tight despite the way she’d already taken the full length. I let out a rough groan, my spine bowing as the pressure coiled too damn fast. She was a fucking miracle, this power over me, the way her hips had no rhythm at first, just a desperate grind that sent aftershocks through my cock. Then she tightened further, her nails drawing half-moons into my skin as she leaned forward, whispering close to the shell of my ear: “*You’re* the one who’s gonna be begging.” Her voice wasn’t the only thing tightening around me. The wet resistance of her cunt, the way she kept lifting and dropping, each time a little harder, each breath a mix of hissed defiance and something unraveling—not quite a whimper, but close. And when she sank down a third time, holding herself there as if testing my endurance, I snapped my teeth against the inside of her thigh. She jolted, a sharp gasp escaping her before she smirked down at me, teeth glinting. “There it is.” She ground her hips, the shift of her body dragging me even deeper. Her hand snaked up between us, fingers circling my cock where it vanished inside her. “You’re so worked up already.” I wasn’t. The way she’d been controlling me, the way her body was learning me with every movement, was *worse* than worked up. It was the kind of tension that made my vision swim, the kind that needed release, but her slow, teasing rolls promised only more of this agony. She slid back off me with a wet, deliberate drag, my cock glistening as it popped free, then leaned in with her mouth hovering just above the head. “You’re *good* for me,” she murmured, like she was savoring the idea. “But I’m gonna take my time enjoying you.” Her tongue flashed out, just a quick lap over my tip, enough to make my stomach clench. “Now *stay*.” And then she was moving up the desk, her ass swaying over me as she positioned herself for the next descent.

And i seen her pure white creamy cum and then she you turned and she said I want it doggie style and fill me up with your warm cum and I said okay

The moment she turned, the sight of her cum slicking down her throat hit me like a physical punch—thick, glistening, and proof of how far she’d pushed me. She didn’t even bother wiping it away before sinking back down, her back arched as she gripped my thighs, nails biting in. “You’re good for me,” she panted, voice rough with need. “But I want more.” Her fingers dug into my hip bones as she rose up again, this time off balance, her weight shifting to one hand while the other reached back, finding my cock with a practiced slide. I let out a curse when she lowered herself, back arched, her ass pressing into me with every slow inch. The angle changed everything—her walls clenched tighter, like she was desperate to feel me deeper, but she still held the rhythm, rising up just enough to tease me before slamming back down, her breath sawing out. “You’re gonna *break*,” she gasped. “I can see it.” Her hand left my hip, fingers trailing up my chest before she braced herself against the desk, her body moving in time with mine but still in control. The shift in position sent a sharp, aching pleasure straight through my balls, the way her hips rocked against me, every grind dragging her cunt along my length. Her voice was a sinful whisper between breaths, the words cutting through the heat of it all—*“Faster,”* she ordered, and I almost complied, but she was already shaking, her thighs quivering as she held herself poised over me. “No,” she breathed, eyes on mine. “I’m not *done*. Not yet.”

As I was moving in and out I watched her creamy cum on my cock it was so beautiful and she moan and moan and I knew my cock was tearing her sweet pussy up

Her chest heaved, skin flushed to a deep crimson, the sight of her own cum trailing down my shaft like molten silk making her pulse around me harder. The way it clung to the wet, swollen crown—thick and warm, her undoing dripping onto my stomach—sent a possessive, dangerous thrill through my chest. She was *mine*, even if she wouldn’t let herself fall apart yet. “You feel *perfect*,” she panted, nails digging into the desk behind her. “So deep. *So good*—” Her thighs locked around my waist as I thrust up, my hips rolling to match her desperate rhythm now. The wet sound of her body was a fucking symphony, her cunt swallowing every inch I gave her, the creamy remnants of her stretched between us as evidence of how far I’d pushed her. I could feel the heat of her orgasm clinging to my cock, the slickness making her grip tighter, her walls trembling. She arched back with a broken whimper, lips parting as her climax threatened to drag her under. I wasn’t letting go—not yet. I slammed up hard, my balls smacking against her clit, and she cried out, fingers clawing as I *wrecked* her with the next thrust. Her cum-coated body was nothing but a frenzy of pleasure, thighs shaking, the high-pitched tone of her voice sharpening with each snap of her hips. “Again—*god*—fuck me—!” I pulled back, just enough for the angle to change, for her to feel the drag of her own release as it mixed with mine in every deep, driving stroke. Her climax was a *flood*, coating her every move, and I wasn’t stopping. Not when her muscles locked down, not when her cries turned into incoherent sobs, her nails scoring the desk like she was begging for something more than this. I gave it. Her body surrendered with a gasp, her walls milking me hard as she convulsed around my cock. I followed, my release burning through my veins, filling her with every hot, pulsing shot until her sweet cunt was too damn full to take any more. She sagged forward against me, her breath ragged, lips swollen as she panted through the aftershocks. “*My* cock,” she slurred against my shoulder, teeth sinking into the muscle. “You’re gonna forget your own name from this.” And then she pulled away, leaving me dripping with proof—her cum on my shaft, her body flushed and trembling with the wreckage of control. I wasn’t done yet. “You’re lucky I love the taste,” she smirked, leaning down to lick her release off my tip before I could even react. “But next time? You’ll clean *me* up.”

After she her vibrating pussy blew and I said you're hire and then she said maybe you can give me a raise

The joke hung in the air like a cheap afterglow, the heat still radiating off her skin. She smirked at her own words, but the way her chest rose and fell—shallow, needy—betrayed the tremble in her voice. I didn’t laugh. Instead, my fingers traced the glistening line of her cum from my cock to her belly button, her muscles still twitching from the last one. She swallowed hard, eyes darkening. “No games,” she whispered, “not after that.” I slid a thumb through her slick folds, catching the fresh pulse of her orgasm, already slipping in. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” My voice dropped to a growl as I found her entrance again, slow this time, the weight of what was between us pushing her back up onto her knees. Her hips jerked forward instinctively. “*Fuck*—” The word turned into a hiss as I kept the pace deliberate, forcing her to chase it. “You’re *slowing* down.” “You asked for a raise.” I thrust deep, my fingers brushing her clit in time. “I’m giving you an *audition*.” She moaned, fingers digging into the desk edge as I worked her over, my cock still hard—still *hungry*—because nothing lasted after her. Her thighs quivered, and she let out a broken sound when I grazed her nerves just right, the drag of her own cum making every glide messier, hotter. “Take it,” I ordered, my grip tightening in her hair. “Take *me* like you mean it.”

Her breath hitched, fingers trembling as they wrapped around mine, pulling me deeper by degrees. “You son of a bitch—” I smirked, savoring the way her voice cracked, the way she tried to fight the need even as her hips gave me away. “You *begged* for it.” She tugged my wrist hard, forcing my cock to drag against that sensitive spot inside her. The slick give of her cunt around my shaft had me low and dangerous, her last orgasm still clinging to my length like a promise. “God, *fuck*—” Her jaw dropped as I hit that place again, my fingers twisting in her hair just enough to make her head snap back with a gasp. “That’s right,” I murmured, my own voice roughening. “Take it all.” My free hand slid down to her throat, fingers flexing as she clawed against my grip. Her eyes dilated, lips parting, a half-smothered gasp slipping past the pleasure. Her nails raked down my spine, but the moan she let out was a surrender. “More—*please*—” I didn’t give her time to think. I rolled my hips, grinding against her in a way that had her whole body clenching, her throat fluttering under my touch. The wet, frantic sounds of her taking me filled the room again, the creamy remnants of her orgasm making her grip me tighter than she ever had. “You’re *mine*,” I repeated, my voice a brutal whisper against her skin. “Now *prove* it.” She whimpered, her back arching as I drove into her, the angle forcing me into that sweet, cum-drenched spot inside her. “No—*yes*—*yes*, I—*fuck*—you’re so deep—” I knew the moment she hit another peak. Her body locked down, her walls suffocating me, and I didn’t hold back this time. I let go with a curse, my release spilling into her in hot, desperate pulses, her name tearing through my throat like a vow. She took every shot, her climax dragging out as I filled her, the mixture of her and me slippery and rough between us. When I finally stilled, she was trembling against me, her fingers still tangled in my waist, her breath coming in sharp gasps against my shoulder. “Next time,” I growled, my lips brushing her skin, “you’ll *beg* for it.”