Chapter 6: The Break Room Defilement
When she reached the ground floor, Marie was breathless. The situation was completely unprecedented for her. She had just been pleasuring herself, she had just come while watching a colleague, a married colleague and mother like herself, sucking the enormous cock of a 25-year-old Black man. She should be pulling herself together, thinking about her husband, the love she had for him and her children, but her mind was far from all that. Malik’s words when she left the storage area, about how he wasn’t finished with Pauline, kept coming back to her. Right now, Pauline must be getting fucked by Malik’s enormous cock. Marie couldn’t get the thought out of her head, and it reignited her arousal.
The arrival of an old gentleman who asked her to help him find a book on 1970s cinema pulled Marie from her thoughts and allowed her to regain her footing in reality. And so, little by little, she resumed her work at the library. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, except for her lunch break when she met up with her colleagues, including Pauline. Pauline gave nothing away, talking naturally about her husband and their planned summer trip, but Marie couldn’t help but recall her colleague sucking Malik’s enormous cock less than three hours earlier and imagine her getting fucked like a slut right after she left.
In the middle of the afternoon, Marie took the elevator to bring a cart of books to the third floor. The elevator stopped on the second floor and the doors opened. Marie saw Malik stepping in. He filled the entire space, and although she wasn’t short, Marie felt tiny next to him.
“Afternoon, Ms. Dubois,” he said, his voice a calm rumble.
“Malik,” she managed, her eyes fixed on the control panel.
The doors slid shut. The elevator gave a slight lurch upwards. Then, a thick, dark hand shot out and pressed the red ‘STOP’ button. The hum died, replaced by a dense, ringing silence.
Marie’s head snapped toward him. “What are you doing? I have work to do. I will complain to management, I swear to God.”
Malik turned slowly. His bulk loomed over her, blocking the fluorescent light. He let her protests hang in the static air, then smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “You enjoy the show this morning? With Pauline? Or maybe you liked the one last week better? With Nadine?”
The breath left Marie’s lungs. He knew.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know.” His tone dropped, shedding all pretense of respect. It was flat, crude. “Saw you hiding. Saw your hand under your skirt. You came watching, didn’t you? You’re just like them. All you proper bitches are the same. You see a big dick and you lose your minds.”
Marie’s cheeks burned. She wanted to argue, to slap him, but her body was treacherously still, rooted to the spot.
“Nadine,” he continued, stepping closer, his voice a low, insidious whisper that filled the small cab. “She cried when she saw it. Actual tears. Then she got on her knees and begged for it. Said her husband’s little prick never made her feel a thing.” He was right in front of her now, the heat of him palpable. “Pauline today… Hhhnk… she gagged. Snot all down her face. But she took it. She took all of it. And when I fucked her from behind, pounded that married pussy, she screamed. A high, little bitch scream. Aiee! Aiee! Like that.”
Each obscene detail was a lit match thrown on the tinder of her own memory. Marie felt a fresh, hot gush between her legs.
Malik leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His breath was warm. “Your turn’s coming. Soon. My cock’s gonna go in and out of your married pussy. Gonna split you wide open. And you’re gonna scream. You’re gonna scream like a crazy bitch at the feel of it.”
As he spoke, his hand moved. It slid under her tailored blouse, rough fingers skating over her ribs, down the plane of her stomach, and into the waistband of her skirt. He didn’t fumble. He pushed past the lace of her panties, his fingers finding her wet, parted flesh.
“Mmmpfh—” Marie’s protest became a choked moan.
His finger, impossibly thick, slid through her soaked folds, grinding against her clitoris in a rough, circular motion. “Fuck. Soaking. Dripping for it already.” He whispered the words into her skin, a filthy secret. “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you forget your own name. ‘Til you’re wild. You’ll do anything I say. Anything.”
He pushed the tip of that finger inside her, just an inch. The stretch was immediate, a stunning preview. Marie bit her lower lip so hard she tasted copper, her hips giving an involuntary, tiny jerk forward.
Then he withdrew. The sudden emptiness was a shock. He straightened up, reached over, and pressed the floor button. The elevator jolted back to life with a hum.
The doors opened on the third floor. Malik adjusted his shirt, gave her a slow, knowing look, and stepped out silently.
Marie stood, glued to the spot, the cart of books before her. Between her legs throbbed, wet and aching. The scent of her own arousal, mixed with the faint, clean smell of his skin, clung to the air. She was breathless, consumed by a terrifying, exhilarating desire.