Chapter 5: Corporate Training
The command hung in the air, a viscous, palpable thing. Natasha stared at Wanda’s glistening fingers, the world narrowing to that slick, offered point. The scent—musky, briny, profoundly intimate—filled her nostrils. Her own curiosity, the very thing that had dragged her here, became a piston in her chest. She didn’t think.
She leaned forward and closed her lips around Wanda’s fingertips.
The taste exploded on her tongue—salt, a bitter tang, a sweetness beneath. It was the most transgressive thing she had ever done. A soft, broken noise escaped her throat as her tongue swirled, cleaning the digits. Wanda watched, her expression one of deep, approving affection.
“Good girl,” Wanda breathed, her voice ragged from her climax but layered with new warmth.
Then, with a fluid, powerful motion that defied her post-orgasmic state, Wanda rose from the divan. Her body, still gleaming with sweat and her own release, was a study in predatory grace. And her cock, impossibly, remained fully erect, jutting out from her body, thick and defiant.
A shocked gasp rippled through the group.
Wanda looked down at herself, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest. She wrapped her hand around her shaft, giving it a slow, proud stroke. “No matter how much I cum,” she murmured, her eyes locking onto Pepper’s, “I never go soft. Not until I’m completely fucking spent.”
She took a step forward, the authority in the room condensing around her. Pepper, who had been standing frozen, took an involuntary step back. Her heel met the leg of an easel. There was nowhere to go.
Wanda closed the distance. One hand, the one Natasha had just cleaned, snaked into Pepper’s perfectly styled auburn hair. The grip was not brutal, but it was unbreakable, a claiming.
“You’ve been trying to run this room since you walked in,” Wanda said, her voice a velvet-covered threat. “With your posture. Your eyes. Your little silences.” She applied pressure, guiding Pepper downward. “Let’s see you run this.”
Pepper’s resistance was a brief, stiffening of her spine, a product of a lifetime of control. Then it melted, leaving behind a raw, terrified want. She allowed herself to be lowered, her expensive slacks meeting the dusty floorboards, until she was on her knees before Wanda’s imposing form.
Wanda’s other hand cupped her own balls, presenting the full, heavy sight of her to Pepper’s upturned face. The thick, veined shaft curved upward, the broad, slick head glistening mere inches from Pepper’s parted, trembling lips.
“Show Mommy,” Wanda growled, the command dripping with dark promise, “how bad you want it.”
She shifted her hips, pressing the hot, silken crown against Pepper’s mouth. It wasn’t a violent thrust, but an insistent, unyielding pressure. Pepper’s lips resisted for a heartbeat, sealed by a final wall of propriety. Then, with a shuddering sob that was half despair, half surrender, she opened.
The moment her lips parted, Wanda pushed forward.
Pepper gagged instantly, her eyes flying wide. The head of Wanda’s cock stretched her mouth, a shocking, invasive fullness. The taste, richer and more overwhelming now at the source, flooded her senses.