I page you to my office, interrupting your daydreaming at your desk. You gather your papers, in no real hurry, and lock your cabinets. Walking along the hall, your heels click on the tile floor, navigating the attached loops of rooms to the first floor.
You knock on the door, and I beckon you to enter from my desk, my silhouette backlit from the rows of large windows behind me. “Please, have a seat,” I command, barely glancing up from my computer monitor at the corner of my desk. I make several clicks and then turn to face you. “I called you down here today because it has come to my attention that there were several… pornographic pictures of you discovered on your company issued laptop. You do realize that everything saved to computers that are owned by this company is backed up on our server, correct?” I tilt my head down, looking at you over the wire frames of my glasses.
“Of course you do, it was included in your code of conduct statement you signed at the beginning of your employment.” I interrupt before you can speak. “Also included in that packet was a list of consequences should anything… untoward be found on your computer. This is a very serious offense. Should any of our clients find these, or if our systems were audited, I don’t have to remind you how important our sterling reputation is.”
I tilt the monitor towards you, so you can see the collection of pictures past the glare from the windows. “Now, are these pictures of you?” I bark. There are a dozen or so images, depicting a woman in various states of undress and total nakedness. You cast your gaze down and mumble something incoherently, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You curse yourself for being so careless; you plugged your phone in to charge it from your laptop, forgetting that it would automatically back up to the computer.
“Now, I should fire you on the spot. However, you’re young and everyone makes mistakes. If I were to perhaps … overlook this indiscretion, would you do something for me?” I stand, my hands at the edges of my desk. You can see my slacks bulging, a large wet spot at the fly. You can tell I’ve spent quite a bit of time looking at your pictures. As I look down at you, nodding as you sob quietly, I catch you staring at my lap. “Get up,” I demand.
You rise unsteadily to your feet, wringing your hands at your waist, gaze straight down, except for the few furtive glances at my bulge. I walk around my desk, placing a foot at your instep. I brush your hair from your damp cheeks, then trace a finger along your jaw, lifting your chin to face me. I gaze into your eyes, as you wipe the tears away. My breath is hot and sweet on your lips. I study your reaction as I reach up and unfasten the top button of your blouse.
Craning my head closer to yours, our lips meet, my stubble scratching your skin as I kiss you, forcefully, gasping at your softness. Undoing another button, I open my eyes quickly to see you melting against the desk, your gaze rolling back into your head.
“I will have you. Right here, right now.” I breathe as our lips part. My hand slides up your thigh, stopping at the clip of your garter and circling your hips to the back, raising the hem of your skirt. I tease both sides of your inner thighs, my nails scratching your stockings causing a few small runs. I trace up your leg until the tightness of your skirt forces my hand to the outside, following the line of your leg to your hip bone, then rising higher to your waist and your lowest blouse button, twisting it and freeing the other side.
My hand leaves your face as I become impatient, grasping your shirt at your bust, tearing it open and sending buttons flying across the room, plinking over the tile. I grasp your bottom, lifting you onto the desk, hiking your skirt up to spread your legs with my hips between them.
I push you back onto the desk, grabbing a pair of thick scissors and cutting between the cups of your bra, against your protests. Your breasts fall from their support onto your chest, firm and full. I place them out of the way as I open my trousers, my cock slapping against your bare cunt, glistening in the daylight, damp and puffy. I smirk, “How could I guess you were one to not wear underwear. The garter belt was a nice touch. Saves me from ruining a pair of your pantyhose. Smart.”
I grasp your legs, under your knees, lifting them to my shoulders, your heeled shoes loosing from your feet, one dropping to the desk with a thud. I arch my back, sliding my cock into you, the skin of my shaft tugging against your lips, unprepared for such a rough entry. You stretch around me, your hands scratching my chest, barely snatching my tie as you beg me to be gentle, “Slow down… Please, I have condoms in my purse. I can’t get pregnant now… Wait, please…”
I ignore your requests, thrusting my cock deep into your cunt as you wail in pain, until your wetness coats my shaft, easing my repeated strokes. Your head hangs off the edge of the desk, your eyes adjust to the brightness to see some of the staff watching you through the wall of glass. I hold your hip with one hand as I unfasten my shirt, pulling it from my waistband and loosening my belt. I continue to slam my body against yours, driving you into the desk, the sweat from your body eventually allowing your skin to unstick from the veneer.
You yelp in surprise, my hands slapping your breasts, making them bounce against your body. I pull my cock out, rubbing your wetness over the head as I slap it against your pussy, then flick it back and forth over your clit until you cum, biting your finger to keep from crying out. I watch your face as it twists in ecstasy, as your body trembles from the pleasure.
I scoop you up and carry you, waddling, to the window, bending your body over the short bookshelf and reentering you from behind. Your breath fogs the cool glass, my thrusts push your cheek against the window as you try to support yourself on the frame. You quickly tire and lay your forehead on your arms, my strokes filling your drenched cunt over and over.
I lift your leg onto the shelf, spreading you to take me deeper, scratching my nails up your legs, making a gash in the tan fabric of your stockings. I grasp your hair, pushing your face against the glass, your nipples grazing the smooth, chilled pane as I drive my cock into your cunt.
You stop squeezing your eyes shut, and see the head of accounting and the janitor just feet from the window, stroking their cocks to the lascivious scene. In the corner you notice the Human Resources director with her hand in her panties, one hand up her shirt, squeezing her breasts as she pleasures herself to you.
My groans and grunts get louder as I wrap my arm around your body, pulling you onto my cock again and again. You moan quietly, “Please don’t cum in me… not ready… kids, yet…” You feel my body tense, collapsing onto you as my cock throbs in your cunt, spraying my cum deep inside you, pinning you in place until I groan in satisfaction, the last globs of my cum sliding out into your pussy.
I step back, leaning on my desk, my cock slowly softening, covered in our juices. “Clean me off,” I command, your body slinking to the floor, your mouth soon enveloping my shaft, tasting the salty acridness of our cum. I pick up your shoe from the loudspeaker mic and thrust it in front of your face, explaining: “Im going to keep these pictures, and now the whole company knows what a slut you are. Gather your things and go home, and think about what you’ve done.” I dress once more and sit down in my chair, newly rolling over your fingers as I resume work.
You notice I keep one of the most explicit photos open in the corner of the screen as you shakily get to your feet and run out of my office. Your cheeks red and body breathless, shoes in hand, nearly slipping on the freshly polished tile.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/7vvu2e/the_disciplinary_meeting_mf_job_ds_exhib_humil_nc