The text came at 11:17.
My office. Now. No panties. Lock the door behind you.
I was already leaking. The load from that morning had seeped through the thin liner I’d put in after he sent me back to my desk; every time I shifted in my chair I felt the warm slide of it. I stood, smoothed my skirt, and walked the short hallway with my pulse between my legs. His door was cracked. I stepped in, locked it, and stopped.
Nick was behind the desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled, watching me like he’d been waiting with his c**k already hard.
“Skirt up. Bend over the desk. I want to see if you held it.”
I turned, bent, and lifted the skirt. No panties, exactly as ordered. Cool air hit the mess. His chair rolled back. Two fingers pushed into me without warning, curling, scooping. They came out coated
