I dress even more conservatively than usual for work, as if a longer skirt could cover the sins I feel everyone must be able to read on my face right about now. Below the knee means I must be a good girl, right? Brown hounds-tooth screams good decisions.
* * *
“What did I tell you?”
It has been approximately thirty seconds since I got to work and I am pressed up against the wall of the lab. I am fully dressed, but for my skirt up around my hips, my legs spread around his waist as Dr. Seek’s thick cock slides deep inside me. My panties have been simply pushed to the side to allow him to use me.
“I told you that I wanted you to stay marked with my cum, and you washed. Now I have to leave a fresh load in this naughty bare pussy. Is that what you wanted? Did you want to bait me into fucking you and filling you up again?”
One arm is keeping me up in position, while the other hand grips my chin, controlling my face, forcing me to look at him as he ruts me like a rough animal.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he tells me, his voice thick with lust, and so deep and intense that he almost sounds cruel. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you cry for me, and I’m going to make your pussy take my cum nice and deep.”
I can feel him swelling inside me, his orgasm approaching fast. He wants to demonstrate how free he feels to use me, so he doesn’t care if I come. He’s even trying to ensure I don’t. There was no foreplay, and there is no extra sensuality now. All I get is his cock rutting me like an animal until he growls, stiffens, and pushes as deep inside me as he can, filling me up all over again. He pulls out of me slowly, leaking his cum all over my pussy as it drips free. He uses his fingers to rub and spank it into my lips and clit, but before I can come, he lets me go.
“Go and sit down,” he says, spanking my ass hard. “We have work to do. You need to catch up from yesterday’s disgrace.”
I do as I am told, because I am in too much shock not to.
I can feel my pussy and my ass aching. I can feel his cum leaking out of me slowly, making a mess of my panties.
This is madness. This is wrong. This is everything that is wrong with the world, and people, and men… and it was hot.
I get back to the notes, turning them from something outright nonsensical to a format people might have half a chance of understanding. As I write, I can feel the weight of the words that have not been written lingering in the empty spaces between the sentences. They wanted me to document Simon’s research, but I am doing something more like creating a second set of books, an elaborate forgery that will pass muster for corporate interests and be of precisely no use at all.
It makes me wonder why I was chosen to be here. He can’t be so hard up for sex he needs to hire women to ravage. Simon is handsome, and I’m sure if he tried a smile on once or twice, he would attract women. Even without it, he has a kind of surly charm that would probably translate well while wearing a suit.
Simon also goes about his day, seeming to put our rough tryst aside, at least until he doesn’t.
“It’s very simple, isn’t it,” he says, stepping behind me. “You do as you are told, and your life is easy. Maybe even pleasurable. You keep acting out, and you are going to be one sorry, sore girl.”
I let him have his little moment, because I don’t know what to say or do. I know that I should file a complaint with HR, or just leave, but it’s so confusing when you want the very thing you know you shouldn’t. My reactions aren’t right. My head is all messed up. And my morals have flown out the fucking window, taking my values with them.
There is so much chemistry between us, a great deal of animal passion. Sex with him is so fucking hot I can’t handle what it does to me, and what it makes me want. If he fucked me again right now, I’d love it. That’s the truth. I’m aching. I have his seed inside me. I know we shouldn’t be doing any of this. But deep down,I still want more.
So I stay silent, and I keep making his so-called notes, creating a document that will be useful to nobody.
“What if I get pregnant?” I turn around to look at him. He’s bending over a microscope.
“Hm?”
“What if I get pregnant?” I ask the question even though I actually know I’m not going to conceive.
He turns to look at me. “I would assume you will. When you get pregnant, you will be pregnant.”
Spoken like a man who has never heard of an IUD. It would be funny if it wasn’t indicative of a sort of social failing and ironically, lack of education, but you get that.
I’ve decided I’m not going to tell him about it. He can enjoy his breeding fetish for today.
Tonight, and tomorrow, I tell myself I’m going to make some changes. I’m not going to keep allowing this to happen. I’ll give notice at my apartment. I’ll quit this job. I’ll make the decisions I know everybody would expect me to make.
Two big hands place themselves on either side of me as Simon presses up behind me, the warmth and weight of his body feeling almost cozy. I lower my head instinctively, presenting the back of my neck for him to bite.
“Do you want to be bred?” He growls the question in my ear. “Do you want to swell with my seed, have my baby, live at my home, be my mate?”
“That’s a lot for two people who barely know each other,” I stammer out in the effort to stay sane.
“I didn’t ask if it was a lot. I asked if it’s what you want, deep down.”