Kiss Me Good Bi - Scene 3

Aila Donovan, Nick Smash, and Dakota Wonders are still buzzing from the going-away bash. Everyone else has cleared out, leaving just them—three coworkers trading jabs in the half-lit office. Aila’s two margaritas deep and feeling bold. “Know what’s wild?” she says, smirking. “We never fucked.” Nick laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because we work together, smart-ass, and Dakota’s gay. HR would shit a brick.” Dakota tilts his head, eyes glittering. “Correction. I’m selectively bi when the vibe’s right.” That shuts Nick up. Aila’s grin widens like she just won the office pool. The idea lands hot and reckless between them—no policy manual handy, only three warm bodies suddenly aware of how empty the floor is. Aila peels off her blazer and drops it on a desk like a flag. “Well then. Let’s break the rules before they move me out.” Nick’s already loosening his tie; Dakota’s sliding closer, fingers skimming the back of Aila’s neck. They trade open-mouthed kisses—Nick behind her, palms cupping her tits through her blouse, Dakota unbuttoning from the front with theatrical flair. Her nipples stiffen under rough thumbs and slick tongues; every drag of fabric off skin feels like a dare. Shirts hit the carpet. Aila’s skirt rides up as Nick presses his cock, already straining, between her thighs from behind. Dakota drops to his knees, licks a teasing stripe up the inside of her leg until his mouth seals over her clit through soaked cotton. Her moan echoes off the empty cubicles. She grips Dakota’s hair, grinding into his tongue while Nick nips her shoulder, fingers slicking her ass for later. They bend her over the conference table—wood cool against her cheek, skirt bunched at her waist. Nick slides into her pussy in one slow push, balls-deep, while Dakota strips the rest of the way and offers his cock to her greedy mouth. She sucks greedily, spit dripping down his shaft, her tongue curling under the head every time Nick slams forward. Dakota’s hand strokes her throat like he’s guiding the rhythm. Positions flip fast: Nick sits in a rolling chair and pulls Aila onto his lap, impaling her on his cock while Dakota stands on the seat behind, feeding his length into her stretched hole. Two cocks, one tight channel; the stretch burns sweet as they thrust in sync, hands everywhere—gripping hips, tweaking nipples, fingers stuffed between her lips to hush her curses. Sweat shines on bare skin, the table creaks, and the air smells like sex and cheap champagne. They don’t stop until every surface feels claimed: Aila rides Dakota reverse-cowgirl on the break-room couch while Nick fucks his mouth, then the boys switch so Nick can paint her tits and Dakota can lick the mess off. She comes again with a hand between her legs, clenching around fingers and cocks until they both spill inside her—one load deep in her cunt, the other striping her lower back. By the time they’re tugging clothes back on and laughing under breath, the lights have kicked to motion-sensor dim. Aila wipes a smear of come from her thigh with a napkin and tosses it in the trash like evidence. “Best going-away party ever,” she says, cheeks flushed, hair wrecked. Nick and Dakota grin, already swapping numbers like they’re planning round two before her flight leaves.