Chapter 20: Professional Correction
The silence in the bedroom after Sera’s departure was absolute, broken only by the frantic thudding of Dave’s own heart against his ribs. Steph’s arm tightened around him. Rachel was a rigid line pressed against Steph’s back. The word 'appliance' hung in the air like toxic vapor.
"Shit," Rachel breathed, the single word laced with dread.
Steph shifted, propping herself up on an elbow, her face pale beneath its usual healthy flush. "Dave…" she began, her voice soft with concern.
He was already moving, disentangling himself from their warm, comforting tangle. The sheet fell away, leaving him exposed, sticky, and suddenly very cold despite the room’s warmth. Ten minutes. Sera didn’t tolerate tardiness. He practically fell off the bed, scrambling for yesterday's discarded jeans and a crumpled t-shirt smelling faintly of sex and sweat. The luxury of a shower wasn't an option.
"Just… do what she says," Rachel urged from the bed, her voice tight. "Don’t argue. Don’t explain. Just do it."
Steph reached out, her fingers brushing his bare arm. "Be careful, okay?" Her worry was palpable, a stark contrast to the fierce pleasure she’d shown just hours earlier.
Dave managed a tight nod, pulling the t-shirt over his head. Appliance. He yanked on the jeans, not bothering with underwear. His reflection in the dresser mirror was a mess – tousled hair, shadowed eyes, the faint imprint of Steph’s teeth on his shoulder. He looked exactly like what Sera had named him. He ran a hand through his hair, a futile attempt at order, and headed for the door. The soft, anxious murmur of Steph and Rachel talking behind him followed him out into the hallway.
Sera’s office door was slightly ajar. Dave paused, taking a deep breath that did nothing to steady his nerves. He pushed the door open.
The sleek, modern space was dimly lit, the only light coming from the green-shaded desk lamp and the hazy grey dawn filtering through the towering glass wall overlooking the city skyline. The room hummed with the low thrum of expensive computers and the distant murmur of the city waking up. But the dominant sound was a soft, rhythmic slap, slap, slap. Sera sat ramrod straight behind her imposing glass desk, the epitome of professional elegance in her charcoal skirt suit. Except her chair was pushed back slightly, and her long legs were spread wide apart, the hem of her pencil skirt bunched high around her hips.
Beneath the desk, in the shadowed space between her expensive stockings, her fingers moved with ruthless efficiency. Two fingers plunged deep into her cunt, glistening with wetness, emerging slick before plunging back in. Her thumb worked hard, rapid circles on her exposed clit. Her head was bent slightly over a stack of papers she was annotating with a sleek silver pen, her expression one of intense concentration. The only sign of physical strain was the faint flush high on her cheekbones and the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath the crisp white blouse.
She didn’t look up. The rhythmic squelching of her fingers working her wet pussy was obscenely loud in the quiet room.
"Close the door," she commanded, her voice clipped, professional, utterly at odds with the act she was performing. "Lock it."
Dave obeyed, the click of the lock echoing. He stood just inside the door, feeling impossibly large and awkward in the pristine space. The sharp scent of her expensive perfume warred with the muskier, unmistakable tang of her arousal filling the air.
Finally, she lifted her gaze. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, pinned him where he stood. They held no warmth, no invitation, only cool command. She withdrew her glistening fingers, holding them poised above her spread pussy. They gleamed wetly in the lamplight.
"On your knees," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for hesitation or negotiation. "Under the desk. Now."
The command hung in the air. Dave’s exhausted muscles protested, but the memory of Rachel’s warning – Don’t argue. Don’t explain. Just do it. – propelled him forward. He dropped to his knees on the plush carpet, the movement stiff. He crawled the short distance towards her, the scent of her sex growing overpoweringly strong, thick and sweet and primal. He ducked under the cool glass surface of her desk, the confined space amplifying the sound of her breathing. Her stockinged calves framed his view, leading up to the dark triangle of curls, glistening folds already swollen and slick. Her wetness coated her inner thighs.
"Good," Sera murmured, shifting her hips slightly, opening herself wider for him. She picked up her pen again, pulling another document towards her. "Get to work, Dave. Make yourself useful."
He hesitated for only a fraction of a second, the intimacy of the position warring with the sheer, clinical detachment of her command. Then he leaned forward, pressing his lips directly to the hot, slick center of her. She gasped, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath, her hips jerking minutely. The taste flooded his mouth instantly – musky, salty, uniquely Sera. He flattened his tongue against her, dragging it slowly from the tight furl of her asshole upwards through the slippery folds to circle her swollen clit. She was already incredibly aroused, her flesh hot and yielding.
"Ohhh, yes," she sighed, a sound of pure satisfaction. The pen scratched against the paper. "Just like that. Firm tongue. On the clit."
Dave obeyed, focusing his efforts on the hard little nub, licking and circling it with broad, steady strokes. Her hips pushed forward, grinding her wet cunt against his mouth, demanding more pressure. He opened his mouth wider, sucking her clit firmly between his lips, flicking the tip of his tongue over it rapidly. He slid two fingers easily into her incredibly wet, tight channel, curling them upwards to press against the spongy spot inside her. She moaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated against his mouth. Her legs tightened around his head.
"Fuck yes, just there," she groaned, her pen still moving, though slower now. "Harder fingers. Faster on the clit. Don't stop. Jesus, that’s… efficient." Her breathing grew ragged. "Suck it. Suck my fucking clit hard."
Dave intensified his efforts, sucking her clit fiercely, his tongue a relentless pressure, while his fingers pumped rapidly inside her, crooking hard against that inner wall. The wet, filthy sounds filled the cramped space under the desk – the sucking, the squelch of his fingers moving in her dripping cunt, her ragged breaths. He could feel her inner walls beginning to flutter around his fingers, the tell-tale sign of her building climax. Her hand suddenly dropped from the desk, fingers tangling roughly in his hair, holding his face hard against her pussy.
"Yes! Fuck! Right there! Don't you fucking stop!" she snarled, abandoning all pretense of paperwork. Her body arched, thrusting her cunt forcefully against his mouth. "Eat it! Eat my fucking pussy! Make me come!"
Her orgasm hit her like a wave. Her thighs clamped viselike around his head, trapping him against her. A guttural cry tore from her throat, raw and uninhibited. Her pussy convulsed violently around his fingers, a hot flood of wetness gushing against his lips and chin as she came hard. He kept sucking, kept thrusting his fingers, milking the intense spasms until she finally shuddered, collapsing back in her chair with a long, ragged sigh, her grip on his hair loosening.
For a moment, there was only the sound of her heavy breathing and the wetness cooling on Dave’s face. He stayed pressed against her, feeling the aftershocks ripple through her body. Slowly, she pushed his head away with the flat of her hand. Her movements were precise, detached again. She adjusted her skirt, smoothing it down over her thighs.
Dave withdrew his sticky fingers, wiping them surreptitiously on his jeans. He stayed on his knees under the desk, breathing in the thick scent of sex and Sera’s perfume. His jaw ached.
"Thank you, Dave," Sera said, her voice perfectly composed again. She picked up her pen, tapping it lightly against the document before her. "Adequate. You may go."
He shuffled backwards awkwardly on his knees, emerging from under the desk like a creature from a cave. He kept his eyes lowered, unable to meet hers. His face was wet with her juices, his mouth tasting strongly of her. He stood, his legs stiff. She didn't look up from her work.
He turned towards the door, unlocking it with shaky fingers. The cool air of the hallway felt like a balm after the humid intensity under her desk.
"Dave?" Her voice stopped him just as he was about to step out. He turned. She was looking at him now, her expression unreadable, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Ensure you're rested later. Helen has… other demands planned for you. And Steph and Rachel? They will need your full attention. Don't disappoint them." Her lips curved in a slight, chilling smile. "Or me."
The door clicked softly shut behind him as he stepped into the hallway. He leaned back against the cool wood, closing his eyes, taking deep, shaky breaths. The taste of her was still thick on his tongue, the smell embedded in his skin. Appliance. The word burned. And Helen’s ‘other demands’? Sera’s warning about Steph and Rachel needing his attention? Exhaustion warred with a low thrum of dread. He pushed off the door, heading towards the sanctuary of his own room, feeling more like a tool than ever, and wondering what fresh intensity the day would bring. The city skyline, visible through a hallway window, seemed cold and indifferent.
The click of Sera’s office door felt like a guillotine dropping. Dave sagged against the cool wood paneling of the hallway, the indifferent cityscape blurring beyond the window. Sera’s taste, sharp and musky, coated his tongue; the smell of her release clung to his skin, a pungent reminder of his utility. Appliance. The word echoed, hollowing him out. Helen’s demands. Sera’s warning about Steph and Rachel needing him. A wave of exhaustion, deeper than physical fatigue, threatened to pull him under.
He pushed off the wall, limbs heavy. His bare feet made soft slaps on the polished floor as he trudged towards his room. The plush carpet of his sanctuary felt miles away. Each step amplified the ache in his jaw from Sera’s forceful grinding, the sticky residue on his chin a humiliating brand. He needed water. He needed oblivion. Mostly, he needed not to be this person for five fucking minutes.
He fumbled the doorknob, the familiar scent of clean linen and faint arousal offering a fragile comfort that dissolved instantly upon entering. The room felt too still, too quiet after the electric tension of Sera’s office. He headed straight for the en suite, peeling off the sweat-stiffened t-shirt and Sera-scented jeans, dropping them in a heap on the cool tiles. He cranked the shower faucet, the initial blast of cold water making him gasp, jolting his senses before it warmed into a steaming cascade. He stepped under it, letting the near-scalding water sluice over his head and shoulders, trying to scour Sera’s touch, her taste, her command from his skin and mind. He braced his hands against the smooth tile wall, head bowed, water plastering his hair flat, the rhythmic drumming a counterpoint to the frantic pulse in his temples. The heat seeped into his muscles, coaxing a sliver of calm into the churning mess inside him.
The shower curtain rustled. He didn’t turn, just hunched lower under the spray. Soft hands slid around his waist from behind, a small, warm body pressing against his back. Rachel. Her cheek rested between his shoulder blades. "Hey," she murmured, her voice muffled against his wet skin, thick with concern. "You okay?" Her fingers traced the tense muscles along his spine.
Before he could answer, the curtain parted wider. Steph stepped in, gloriously naked, water instantly slicking her skin, plastering strands of dark hair to her neck and cheeks. Her large, full breasts swayed as she moved, glistening under the downpour. Her eyes, usually bright with mischief, were dark, serious pools scanning his face. "Saw you bolt past our door like a ghost," she said, her voice softer than usual, lacking its usual bounce. "That bad, huh?" She moved closer, the heat of her body palpable next to Rachel’s.
Dave finally turned, water streaming down his face. He saw their worry, genuine and unguarded, a stark, painful contrast to Sera’s calculated detachment. He tried for a shrug, managed only a grimace. "Just... Sera being Sera," he rasped, the memory tightening his throat. "Fucking efficient." The bitterness leaked out.
Rachel’s hands slid up his chest, her touch feather-light, questioning. Steph stepped directly under the spray with him, the water cascading over her curves, catching on her nipples, already tightening into hard peaks. She reached up, cupping his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her thumb brushed away a rivulet of water near his eye. "Forget her for now," Steph whispered, her voice low, intense. "You’re here with us. With me." She pressed her body flush against his, her wet skin sliding against his, her F-cup breasts soft and heavy against his chest. Her thigh nudged between his legs. "Let us take care of you, Dave. Please."
The raw need in her plea, the warmth radiating from both women, began to dissolve the icy knot in his chest. Rachel’s lips found the hollow of his throat, a soft, open-mouthed kiss that sent a shiver through him despite the heat. Her small hands drifted lower, tracing the defined lines of his abdomen, fingertips dipping into the trail of hair leading down. "Show us you’re still ours," Rachel breathed against his skin, her teeth grazing his collarbone. Her hand closed around his flaccid cock, coaxing it gently, expertly. "Not hers."
Steph leaned in, capturing his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue swept past his lips, claiming, reassuring, washing away the phantom taste of Sera. Her hands slid down his back, gripping his ass, pulling him tighter against her. He could feel her wetness against his thigh, hot and insistent even through the water. The combination of Steph’s demanding mouth, Rachel’s knowing hand working his cock to life, and the enveloping steam was overwhelming. A groan escaped him, swallowed by Steph’s kiss as his body finally responded, blood surging south.
"That’s it," Rachel murmured approvingly, her strokes becoming firmer, slicker with water and his own burgeoning arousal. She sank to her knees on the shower floor, the water streaming over her shoulders, her wide hips framing his legs. Her eyes, dark and focused, locked onto his thickening cock. "Let me taste you. Cleanse you." Without waiting, she took the head into her mouth, her pink lips stretching wide to accommodate him. Her tongue swirled firmly around the sensitive ridge, then slid down the shaft in a long, wet lick before taking him deep again. The heat, the suction, the sight of her petite form on her knees, worshipping his cock – it was a balm.
Steph broke the kiss, her breath coming fast. She watched Rachel work, her own hand slipping between her legs, fingers finding her swollen clit. "Fuck, Rachel, suck him just like that," Steph moaned, her fingers moving rapidly in tight circles. "Get him hard for me. Get him ready." She pressed her slick fingers against his lips. "Taste me, Dave. Taste something real." He opened his mouth, sucking her fingers clean, the tangy sweetness of her arousal a stark, welcome counterpoint to Sera’s lingering musk. Steph moaned again, grinding her hips against his leg. "Yes! Fuck, yes!"
Rachel’s mouth was relentless, her head bobbing, taking him deeper with each descent, gagging slightly before pulling back, only to plunge down again. Her throat worked around him, creating exquisite, wet friction. Her hands squeezed his ass, urging him to thrust. He tangled his fingers in her wet hair, not forcing, just holding, feeling the vibrations of her hums as she sucked. "God, Rachel… your mouth…" he gasped, hips beginning to rock minutely into the wet heat.
"Need you inside me, Dave," Steph panted, pulling her fingers from his mouth. She stepped back slightly, turning, bracing her hands high on the slick tiles, presenting her perfect, round ass to him. She arched her back, her cheeks glistening, water running down the cleft. "Fuck me. Right now. Hard. Fuck Sera right out of your head." She reached back, spreading her cheeks wide, revealing her glistening pink pussy lips, swollen and dripping, her tight asshole just below. "Fill me up. Claim me."
Rachel released his cock with a wet pop, looking up, her lips slick and swollen. "Do it, Dave," she urged, her voice husky. "Fuck her gorgeous pussy. Make her scream." She stayed on her knees, watching intently, her own hand slipping between her legs again.
Dave needed no further invitation. The sight of Steph bent over, offering herself so wantonly, the feel of Rachel’s eyes on him, the steam, the water, the desperate need to replace the ugliness – it ignited him. He gripped Steph’s hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh, positioning the thick head of his cock at her dripping entrance. He paused just for a second, feeling the incredible heat radiating from her. Then he drove forward in one smooth, powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt in her wet, grasping cunt.
"FUCK YES!" Steph screamed, her body jolting forward against the tiles. "Oh god, that cock! So deep! Fuck!" Her inner walls clenched hard around him, a hot, rhythmic pulsing. She pushed back against him, grinding her ass against his pelvis. "Harder! Fuck me harder, Dave! Use me!"
He pulled back almost all the way, the resistance of her tight channel exquisite, then slammed home again, the wet slap of flesh on flesh echoing off the tiles, louder than the shower spray. And again. He set a brutal, driving pace, pistoning into her with deep, forceful strokes, each thrust knocking a cry from her lips. Rachel watched, rapt, her fingers working furiously at her own clit, her other hand cupping her small breast, pinching a nipple. "Look at her take it," Rachel moaned, her voice thick with arousal. "Look how her pussy grips you. Fuck, she’s so wet for you. Make her come on your cock."
"Don't stop!" Steph wailed, her knuckles white where she gripped the tiles. "Right there! Oh fuck, Dave! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna—!" Her words dissolved into a wordless shriek as her body locked up. Her cunt convulsed wildly around his shaft, a gush of hot fluid soaking his thighs as she came violently, her legs trembling.
Dave kept thrusting through her orgasm, riding the intense contractions, the sensation pushing him towards his own edge. He saw Rachel shift forward on her knees, positioning herself beneath Steph, pressing her face against Steph’s ass, her tongue darting out to lick the length of Dave’s cock as it plunged in and out of Steph’s slick hole. The dual sensation – Steph’s spasming cunt and Rachel’s hot, wet tongue sliding along his shaft and balls – was overwhelming.
"Gonna fill her, Rachel?" Steph gasped, still shuddering. "Gonna pump your hot load deep inside my pussy? Do it! Breed me, Dave! Mark me!" She pushed back with renewed frenzy.
Rachel looked up, her chin slick with Steph’s juices and water. "Come in her, Dave," she commanded, her eyes burning. "Give it to her. Flood her tight little cunt. Now!"
The pressure coiled tight in his balls snapped. With a harsh groan, he buried himself as deep as he could in Steph’s depths and let go, hot jets of cum pulsing into her welcoming heat. He thrust shallowly, grinding his pelvis against her ass, emptying himself completely as Steph moaned, her body milking him with aftershocks. Rachel pressed her lips to the base of his cock, licking and sucking gently as the last spurts faded, tasting the mix of their release. He slumped forward, bracing himself over Steph, spent, trembling, the water cooling slightly on his overheated skin. Steph sagged against the tiles, panting, a blissful smile curving her lips. Rachel rested her cheek against Steph’s thigh, breathing heavily, her eyes closed, looking utterly satisfied.
The steam curled around them, thick and comforting. The frantic energy ebbed, replaced by a deep, sated exhaustion and a fragile sense of belonging. Steph reached a hand back blindly, finding Dave’s arm. "Better?" she mumbled, her voice thick and drowsy.
He managed a nod against her wet shoulder blade, the word 'appliance' finally buried under the weight of their shared heat, their messy, real connection. Rachel stirred, pushing wet hair from her face. "Shower’s getting cold," she murmured, her voice soft. "Bed.Now. Both of you." She rose unsteadily, turning off the water. The sudden silence was profound. Steph turned, pulling Dave into a tight, wet embrace. Rachel grabbed towels, wrapping one around herself and handing others to them. They dried each other with clumsy, tired movements, the simple intimacy a quiet counterpoint to the raw intensity moments before. Wordlessly, they stumbled the few steps from the bathroom to the plush sanctuary of Dave’s bed, collapsing onto the cool sheets in a damp, tangled heap of limbs, the exhaustion pulling them under almost instantly. Steph curled into his side, her head on his chest. Rachel tucked herself against his back, an arm draped possessively over his waist. Sleep claimed them swiftly, a heavy, dreamless oblivion where Sera’s cold office and Helen’s looming demands couldn’t reach. For now.