More To Love

Michael Vegas ditches lunch with Sarah Arabic. Too busy he says. Bullshit. He's buried balls deep in his secretary Karla Lane instead, pants around his ankles and ass hitting the desk. Karla's moaning like she forgot how doors work. Then the door swings open and Sarah's standing there with takeout bags, smiling like she didn't just walk into amateur hour. Sarah plays it cool, tells Michael they forgot spoons. He runs off like a good boy to fix it. Minute he's gone, the smile drops. She knows. Tells Karla straight, “You're fucking my husband.” Karla freezes. Then Sarah drops the bomb, voice dropping low: “But god damn, you're hot.” Next thing, Sarah's got Karla bent over the same desk, skirt flipped up, tongue working like she's starving and lunch just walked in. Michael comes back with plastic forks and nearly drops them. Sarah looks up from between Karla's thighs, lips shiny, and lays it out flat: he wants forgiveness, they share. No debate. The three of them rip into each other right there. Karla gets it from both ends, Michael's cock in her mouth while Sarah's fingers work her open, then Sarah climbs on his lap and rides him while Karla sits on his face. Moans bouncing off the walls, clothes everywhere, the office reeking of sweat and sex and takeout going cold on the desk.