Chapter 2: The Interrupted Blowjob
The clatter of her keyboard was the only sound in the cubicle farm, a frantic tap-tap-tapping that did nothing to drown out the memory. Lola’s fingers felt clumsy, mistyping simple commands. Her mind was back in the break room, the cold table against her cheek, the brutal, claiming weight of Mark behind her. A fresh wave of heat, equal parts shame and raw need, washed through her. She’d been wet all afternoon, a persistent, aching throb between her legs that made concentrating on spreadsheets impossible.
This was a problem. A professional, catastrophic problem. But the more she tried to suppress it, the more the image of him, belt unbuckled, eyes dark with possession, burned behind her eyelids.
She stood up abruptly, her chair rolling back with a sharp squeak. She didn’t think. She just moved, her body operating on a directive her mind was too scrambled to counter. The walk to his office felt both endless and instantaneous. The glass walls of the senior developers' section offered no privacy, but today, they felt like a dare.
Mark’s door was ajar. He was inside, leaning back in his expensive chair, staring at a line of code on his monitor. He didn’t look up as she entered, but a faint smirk touched his lips. He’d been expecting her.
She closed the door behind her. The click of the lock was deafening.
Without a word, she crossed the room, the plush carpet muffling her steps. She dropped to her knees beside his chair, her hands going to his belt. Her fingers, which had fumbled at her own keyboard, were now deft and sure. The buckle came open with a metallic clink. The zipper rasped down.
“Eager, kitten?” His voice was a low rumble, laced with amusement. He didn’t move to help her, just watched her from under heavy lids.
She didn’t answer. She was beyond words. She tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It was already half-hard, thick and veined. She took him into her mouth without hesitation, the familiar weight and taste flooding her senses. She worked him with a desperate urgency, one hand braced on his thigh, the other stroking what she couldn't take. Her glasses slid down her nose. She heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his hand come to rest on the back of her head, not pushing, just claiming.
This was what she needed. The mind-numbing focus of it, the degradation, the pure, animal satisfaction of feeling him harden completely against her tongue.
The door creaked.
Lola froze, her mouth still full of him. Her eyes, wide with panic, shot to the doorway.
David stood there, frozen, a folder clutched in his hand. His face was a canvas of shock, his mouth agape. He’d clearly been about to knock, to deliver something. His gaze was locked on her, on the intimate, obscene connection between her lips and Mark’s cock.
For a heart-stopping second, nobody moved. Then, something shifted in David’s expression. The shock didn’t fade, but it was joined by a dawning, hungry comprehension. His eyes darkened. He took a half-step into the office, his movements jerky, and quietly pushed the door shut behind him.
Mark’s hand tightened in her hair. “Keep going,” he ordered, his voice rough. He looked at David, a challenge in his eyes. “You just gonna stand there and watch, Dave?”
Lola’s mind screamed in protest, but her body obeyed Mark’s command. She began to move again, her cheeks hollowing, the rhythm slower now, more conscious of the audience. She could feel David’s gaze like a physical touch.
She heard his footsteps, hesitant at first, then more determined. He came to stand beside Mark’s chair, looking down at her. His breathing was shallow, quick. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and touched her hair. It was a tentative brush at first, then his fingers curled, mimicking Mark’s grip.
“Fuck,” David breathed, the word full of awe and lust.
Mark chuckled, a dark, rich sound. “See something you like?”
David didn’t answer with words. He fumbled with his own belt, his hands clumsy with nerves. He pushed his pants down, his erection springing free. It was slimmer than Mark’s, paler. He guided himself toward her face.
“Open up, Lola,” Mark commanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
She pulled off of Mark with a wet pop, gasping for air. She looked at David’s cock, then up at his face, which was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desperate need. For a moment, she saw the shy, awkward guy from the IT department. Then the moment passed, and he was just another man wanting to use her mouth.
She leaned forward and took him in.
A low groan escaped David’s lips. His hips jerked instinctively. The taste was different, the feel was different. She was stretched now, filled in a way that made her head spin. Mark guided her head back to his own length, and she found herself moving between them, her mouth stuffed with one cock while the other slid against her cheek, her lips stretched to their limit. Spit dripped down her chin. The air was thick with the sounds of their grunts, her choked gags, the slick, filthy noise of her mouth working.
“Stand up,” Mark growled after a few minutes, pushing her back. “Bend over the desk.”
She stumbled to her feet, her knees weak. She braced her hands on the cool, sleek surface of his desk, sending a pen holder clattering to the floor. Her skirt was already rucked up around her waist. She heard the tear of a foil packet, the rustle of clothing.
Mark entered her from behind in one brutal, deep thrust. She cried out, the sound muffled by the wood. He was rougher than in the break room, fueled by the performance, by David’s rapt attention.
“Your turn’s coming, Dave,” Mark grunted, his pace relentless, pounding into her. “Get that pretty mouth ready.”
David, his eyes glazed, quickly knelt in front of her. He looked up at her face, her expression twisted with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Then he leaned in and kissed her, his tongue pushing past her lips. She could taste herself on him, the salt of his skin, the faint bitterness of pre-cum. It was messy and desperate.
Mark’s thrusts became harder, faster. “Gonna fill this tight cunt up,” he snarled, his fingers digging into her hips. “And you’re gonna clean her up, Dave. You’re gonna lick my come out of her.”
The vulgar command, the sheer depravity of it, sent Lola over the edge. A broken, sobbing scream was torn from her throat as her orgasm ripped through her, so violent her vision spotted. Her body clenched around Mark, milking him, and he shouted his own release, pumping into her with a final, deep shudder.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Mark pulled out, and Lola slumped against the desk, boneless.
She felt hands on her thighs, spreading her wider. David, his face a mask of fervent obsession, moved between her legs. He didn’t hesitate. He pressed his mouth to her, his tongue lapping at the mixture of their fluids, drinking deeply as if it were the answer to a question he’d been asking his whole life.
Mark zipped his pants, watching with a satisfied expression. He looked from David’s eager, subservient form to Lola’s wrecked body splayed across his desk.
“Good,” he said, his voice calm and final, like a judge delivering a verdict. “Now you both know how things work around here.”