A Solution That Solves Both Their Problems

London's sitting at the kitchen table with his client file spread out when Cali storms in, phone glued to her hand. Her fingers fly across the screen like she’s trying to nuke her boyfriend through text. London tries to get her back to the numbers—business, nothing else—but her head keeps jerking toward the screen every thirty seconds. Cali finally slams the phone down. "This prick thinks he’s the only one who can step out," she snaps. Her eyes lock on London, hot and pissed and horny all at once. "I’ve watched you staring at my ass every time I bend to pick up the mail. Let’s stop pretending." She steps in close, yanks London’s tie loose, shoves his chair back so the legs scrape the floor. Her skirt rides up when she climbs onto him, knees planted on either side of his thighs. One zip and London’s cock springs free, hard already. Cali sinks straight down, tight and wet, taking him in one slick slide that makes them both groan. She rides hard—hips snapping forward like she’s punishing the clock—while London grabs her ass with both hands, thrusting up to meet her. Sweat slides between her tits, still bouncing in that half-open blouse. The paper forms flutter to the floor with every slam. They fuck loud enough the upstairs neighbor pounds on the ceiling, but Cali only rides harder, her cunt clenching around London like a fist, milking him until he shoots deep inside her. When she finally slows, breath ragged, they’ve both forgot the taxes, the phone, the scumbag boyfriend—just a sticky, satisfied mess grinning in the kitchen like two criminals who pulled it off.