A Wicked Hangover

 

 

 

 

 

"Hey, so about last night..." Riley began, standing on John's front porch, the mid morning Saturday sun pouring into his house exacerbating John's hangover. She was wearing sunglasses large and dark enough to obscure much of her expression, which John took to be as much her goal in wearing them as protecting her eyes from that harsh summer sun had been. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail, exposing the lightly tanned skin of her shoulders, which went uncovered by the light top she was wearing. It all came together with a short skirt and open toed shoes in a lovely little ensemble. He wanted to slam the door in her face.

"What about it?" he said. The sun was unbearable for him and he could see she had started to sweat as well.

"Look, I know. Can I come in for a second? You can kick me out on my ass once I say what I want to. Just," she sighed with exasperation, "it's really fucking hot out here, can you let me in for a minute?"

"Yeah, why not," he said. He left her in the open doorway and walked back to the kitchen. He heard rather than saw her follow him in as he focused on downing three glasses of water, one after the other.

"John?" Riley was now standing at the edge of the kitchen, watching him from behind the now unnecessary sunglasses.

"You know the real hangover cure?" he asked. She said nothing in response. "Time. That's it. The trick is that there isn't really a cure. Oh, lots of people say that it's this or it's that, heavy food or bread or even the hair of the dog. But there isn't one, not really. You drink your water, you wait, you deal with it. That's it. It sucks but that's what happens when you have too much fun. Just bites you in the ass and you have to just wait till it gets better."

"That's very poetic, John," Riley said. "Look, obviously I have some explaining to do."

"No, you really don't," John cut her off. "It's fine. Pretty sure I got the gist of it last night, I don't really need any further explication, and frankly my fucking head fucking hurts and sound makes it worse."

"I'm sorry about that," she said.

"I appreciate the sympathy," he said, brushing by her to get to the couch in the living room, which he promptly lay down on. He could feel her approach the couch.

"Look, John," she said, "you have every right to be mad at me. I realize you probably don't care if I'm sorry or not or why I did what I did..."

"You mean why you hid the fact that you have a boyfriend from me? Or why you sucked him off while I hid, naked in a closet?"

"I mean..."

"Actually it doesn't matter. I get it, you don't have to explain. You did it for the reasons most people do shit like that. Hell, I know why I've done the exact same thing in the past, aside from the stuffing a partner in a closet bit. That's new, that's really, just..." he stopped while the words were still unformed in his mind "...just, mmm, chef's kiss, amazing, no notes."

"I mean..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean, like I said, I've done the same thing myself. You're with somebody, you see somebody else you want to fuck, and you just do it, you think, 'what's the harm, right? It's just this once, they'll never know.' I get it, I really do. I'll let you in on a secret, since you were kind enough to let me in on the secret of how big your boyfriend's cock is, which, by the way, nice, not bad, I can see why you want to stay with him."

She had evidently given up on trying to get a word in so John just continued.

"My secret is I've cheated on multiple girlfriends in the past, same thing. So I get it. I even did the thing where you go back to them and pretend nothing happened."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about that. And how did that work out for you?"

"It works. It works just fine if you want it to. You have to have the right psychology for it, though, the right make up. You have to just be able to forget about it. I'm guessing right now you are feeling bad about it, but you're still trying to decide why you feel bad, like, is it because you regret having fucked me, or you regret having continued to fuck me, which lead to actual, honest-to-god feelings, or you are thinking maybe you shouldn't be with this Nick guy, but you're torn. Here's the thing, if you're like me, and I think you are, you'll just be able to forget about it, write it off."

"Forget about you, you mean?" she asked.

"Yeah, me, the next guy, the guy after that. It gets easier each time, by the way. Eventually you realize you're built for that type of thing. You still love him, of course, Nick, I mean, not me. You love him in a way that other people don't get. They will say you don't, that you wouldn't go around fucking other guys if you did, that you'd feel bad about it. But people, people who aren't like you and me, Riley, they don't get it. They don't get what it's like to just want to fuck and how nobody else can match that desire you have, nobody, no one person, can be adequate. But society doesn't get that, doesn't understand how you can't be happy with just the one person even though you love him, and you do. But I do, I get it. That's me, that's you, that's how we're built. So you don't need to explain shit. You just need to leave me here in the dark so I can get over this fucking hangover and go back to my fucking job on Monday and then hopefully maybe find some other girl who wants my dick half as much as I want to give it to her."

"It sounds like you understand it all, then," Riley said. "So I don't need to explain anything, after all." She knelt down beside the couch.

"Yeah, probably, under the I think safe assumption that you are operating like me, like I have, anyway. You love him, but you're unsatisfied somehow. Not enough sex, not varied enough sex, I don't know because I've only seen you two fuck this one time. Probably you're just like me, just like I said, and so it doesn't really matter how much of it there is or how good it is, because there could always be more, always be better." He shifted his weight so that his face was less visible. "But you still love him, so you're going to go back to him and forget all about it, and you know what, that's good. I mean, if you love him then be with him and if you fuck up every now and then and hook up with another guy like me then that is just what happens. People take monogamy too seriously. We're not built for it, you or me, probably not anyone, really, but especially folks like you and me. So you just live with it."

"Monogamy and hangovers, same thing, right?" Riley said.

"Ding ding ding. You just do it. You just drink your water and grit your teeth and vomit sometimes. And every time you tell yourself "not doing that again" but you probably will. But like I said, that's fine. It happens, you get drunk, you fuck around."

"Yeah, but you don't get on a dating app. Your analogy falls apart there, John boy. You don't go looking to get drunk, it just happens when one drink turns into two turns into a binge session. Only a psycho, only a fucking heartless bitch carefully creates a dating app profile for one night, messages a guy who she'll never see again, fucks him, and deletes the account like it never happened."

He rolled back over. She had taken her sunglasses off to reveal tear-filled eyes that glinted in the dark.

"Yeah," he said. "Or no, I don't know. There's no reason to worry about that shit. 'Am I a psycho?' 'Am I a bitch?' Who gives a fuck, really? You didn't get caught, not yet. So go back to him and finish the plan. That's why you're here, right? You can't be here to beg me to keep quiet. If I were going to say anything, that closet would have been the optimal time and place. So you must be here because you caught some residual feelings and now you need to, for your own sake, let me down easy or seek forgiveness or closure or whatever. Well don't worry about that shit, either. You're forgiven." He made a half-assed sign of the cross in the air above him.

"I don't know," she said, her voice wavering. "I just, I wanted to talk to you. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say when I got here. I've been sick to my stomach since last night. I couldn't sleep, I just...I don't know."

"Like I said, you don't have to explain. You don't have to tell me anything. If you want to stay with him stay with him. If you don't want to, don't. But like, it seems like you probably do. And since you're not here to suck my fucking dick, it seems like you just want absolution, so take it."

"I don't know," she wiped away tears. "I actually wouldn't mind sucking your dick." She let out a little laugh. "It would be a lot easier than explaining."

"Now I know for sure you and I are built alike. Get out of here before I get the wrong idea and shove my dick in your mouth."

"I'm not stopping you," she said.

"I know, but I am," he responded. "You'd regret it, like you regret all the shit we did."

"That's not fair," she said. "You make it sound like...well, I don't know. But that's not what I would say."

He sat up. "Let me ask you something," he said, looking into her eyes. The tears had started overflowing her eyelids despite her best attempts. "Is this the first time you cheated on him?"

She sat silently for a few moments. "No," she said finally.

"And those other guys, what happened with them? They broke it off when they found out? Or you broke it off?"

"Every other time," she began, then wiped away a tear despite the futility of that action at this point. "I say that like I've done it so much but, I haven't. Not that many times. But every other time it was like getting drunk. Go out and tell yourself you're just having a good time, you know, like I was saying. And then it just happened and I didn't want to see the guy again. So it's not fair. It's not a fair comparison. I guess I'm getting worse."

"You're getting better at it," he said. "But my point stands. You regret it, so you tell yourself not to do it again. That's what regret is. It doesn't mean you won't do it again or you're some kind of psycho, but it doesn't matter even if you are. Now seriously get the fuck out of here before I bend your crying ass over the couch and you have one more thing to regret."

She laughed a sad little laugh, sniffled and wiped away a tear. "You're the best, John." She stood up and turned to leave, then turned back for a second. "I hope you get all the ass in the world on that app," she said. "Stop getting drunk missing me and get out there and put your dick in some dumb sluts. I wish...well, I wish I could be one of them, but I, I can't. But you understand. Goodbye."

And with that strange, very Riley form of wishing good luck, she walked out the door and out of my life. Going to make a great story for nobody to ever hear, he thought. He couldn't think of anything else to do so he went to take a shower.

...

Maybe Liam's around, John thought as he finished toweling off. Nah, that's no good. I can't be using the kid as a substitute. I'm in no mood to see anyone, anyway, and forcing it is never a great idea. You just gotta grit your teeth sometimes. He stepped out into the bedroom and pulled the phone and wallet out of the pants he had left discarded in preparation for throwing them in the laundry. Out of pure habit, he checked the phone for messages.

3 missed calls

What the fuck? he thought before checking the details. Each and every call had come from the office. It was rare to receive any calls from the office, rarer still to get any on the weekend. His job was hardly what might be termed essential, and, besides, most of it involved the clients; the main office just handled finding said clients and collecting the money from them, as far as he was concerned.

He pulled on a pair of boxers and called back, to be greeted by the familiar voice of Marge, the kindly office manager.

"John, thank god," she said. "I've been trying to call you all morning."

"Yeah, I saw that, sorry," John replied. "What's up?"

"It's that job you just finished," she said. "Something's wrong; the woman over there, she's driving me nuts, calling in here."

"Penny?" John asked. "What does she want?"

"I don't know," Marge replied. "She was just saying that there is a situation and that your expertise is urgently needed. I know it's the weekend, but..."

"She wants me to come in?" John tried not to make his sigh too noticeable.

"Yeah," Marge said. "Sorry but to be honest, she seemed a bit nutso on the phone. We don't want to get into a whole thing with a client. Can you just go over and see what it is she wants?"

"Yeah, sure," John said. "Sorry, I'll get over there right away. No idea what she wants? Did she complain about me or anything?"

"No," Marge said, "nothing specific. I don't know what it is; probably best to just deal with her now so word doesn't get up the corporate ladder that a client's unhappy with you."

"Yeah, I got you. I'll deal with it."

Marge hung up and John sped up the process of getting dressed. Could it get any better? he thought. He finished dressing, pounded a couple of aspirin, and headed to work.

The security guard at the office acknowledged John with only a slight nod as he headed into the seemingly lifeless building, ascending the elevator alone to reach the floor he'd been working on for the last couple weeks, finding it deserted, though the glaring fluorescent lights were on and not doing his hangover-induced headache any favors. He headed straight to Penny's office.

He found the door closed, as well as the blinds. Just as he raised his hand to knock on the door, it opened. Inside stood Penny, dressed smartly as ever and wearing her trademark curious little smile. "Hello, temp," she greeted him.

"Hello, Penelope," he responded. "I understand there's some kind of a problem that needed my attention."

"Oh, I wouldn't call it a problem," she said. She turned around, leading him into the office. She got a few paces, then turned around again to face him. "You'll be so kind as to close the door," she said.

"Nobody seems to be around, boss," he replied.

"You'll be so kind as to close the door," she repeated without a hint of anger.

"Alright," John responded. He closed the door. "What seems to be the problem?"

"As I said earlier, I wouldn't call it a problem," Penny replied. "Just something that requires your expertise."

John sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if there might be a solution to his woes written on it; unfortunately there was not. "Oh my god..." he said to himself, then dropping his face to Penny again, said "Can you just tell me what you want? I thought I was done with this shit yesterday as of five o'clock. Do you want me to eat your pussy? Is that it? Just say that's what it is if that's it. I will get on my knees right here and lick your fucking twat until you cum ten times if that's what you want but holy shit I'm hungover and in no mood to play games."

Penny looked at him for a second before responding. "An interesting proposition," she said. "Is that what you came in here for? Is that what you want to do? To 'get on your knees and lick my twat until I cum'?"

John shook his head. "I came in because you called."

"And I'm the boss," she said.

"Yes, you called. You're the boss, so when you call, I come. That's why I came in." John reiterated.

"And not because you want to 'lick my twat' as you say?" Penny continued.

"I would be delighted," John answered. "So is that why you called me in?"

"Say it," she said, her little smiled pinching into a tight scowl.

"What, are you recording this conversation or something?" he asked.

"Of course not," she answered. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"I don't know. Why on earth do you do anything? Why do you call me in on a Saturday? After my work here is done, I might add, and I no longer have any obligation to come in at all."

"And yet you came in for some reason," Penny replied, feigning confusion. "You came when I called." She hopped up onto her desk, crossing her legs as she sat atop it. "There must be some reason for that. Say it."

John's only response was a frustrated noise.

"I promise, I'm not recording anything. Do you want to check if I'm wearing a wire?" She slipped out of her suit jacket and tossed it aside. "See?"

John shook his head but said nothing.

"Not satisfied?" she asked, already beginning to unbutton her blouse. She evidently understood from John's silence that he was not, and continued unbuttoning the blouse, revealing a black bra underneath, and then tossed the blouse aside as well when finished. She kicked her high heels off, then proceeded with her skirt, hopping down off the desk to get free of it, until she was left in only silky-looking black undergarments. "How about now? Satisfied?"

"You know I never really got the impression while I was working here that you cared all that much about my satisfaction," John said.

She strode towards him. "So you're here to lodge a complaint?" she teased as she approached to within a few centimeters of him.

The pounding in John's had reduced to a dull hum as the blood had rushed to another part of his anatomy. "No complaints," he answered.

She reached a hand out and gently felt his rapidly hardening cock through his slacks. "Then what is it you want? Say it."

You asked for it, John thought. He grabbed her with both hands and pulled her to him, one hand on her back and one lower, firmly gripping her ass through her thin, silky panties. "I want to fuck this sexy little ass," he said.

She pulled away from him, able to escape his grip more by surprising him with the move than anything else. "Oh," she said, turning away from him and walking towards her desk again. "And what if that's not why I called you in? What if I tell you you can't have this 'sexy little ass'?" She smacked her ass softly with one hand and rubbed it, looking at him over her shoulder. "What then, temp?"

John stood for a second, the fluorescent lights feeling as if they were drilling into his skull, a beautiful woman in lingerie mere feet away. "Well," he said, stepping towards her, "fortunately for me, yesterday was my last day. You're not my boss any more." He grabbed her panties and pulled them hard, intending to yank them down but unconcerned when instead they tore down the side, noisily exposing her gorgeous ass.

Penny barely had time to gasp before John had jammed the fingers of one hand roughly between her legs, forcing them apart as her ruined panties fell to the floor. His other hand he placed on her neck, pushing her upper body down onto the desk so hard that the impact caused the small lamp that had been occupying a corner of it to topple over onto the floor.

Her twat reacted almost instantly, going from moist with anticipation to sopping wet by the time she managed to regain the wherewithal to respond verbally, an incoherent grunt of surprise and pleasure.

He ran his fingers roughly up and down the length of her slit, slipping them between her pussy lips and giving them a generous coating of her juices. "Ooh, fuck," she almost growled at him. "Take that fucking cunt."

"I told you," he said, "I want your ass." It was as if someone else was controlling his body as his fingers moved from her sloppy pussy directly to her asshole. He stiffened two of them and pushed hard against her hole. His index and middle finger sank into her ass so quickly it seemed that they were two knuckles deep the moment they had touched her.

"Shit!" she almost shrieked at the sudden intrusion.

"You like that, bitch?" he barked at her, removing the hand from her back long enough to work his pants down and free his now raging hard-on.

"Oh, yes, take that fucking ass," she barked right back. "Fucking take my little fucking whore ass!"

He pulled his fingers from her ass, leaving it to slowly close, but he didn't stop to admire it, instead reaching around her and offering her his fingers. Having freed his cock, he used his other hand to grab Penny's hair yank it back, pulling her face off the surface of the desk and almost, bringing her attention to the fingers he had just had jammed up her asshole.

She lapped at them hungrily, slurping up the juices from them and giving them a fresh, copious coat of spit.

"You like how your ass tastes, you little whore?" he grunted at her as he released her hair and took his cock in hand.

"Mmm, mmm...oh god yes...mmm..." she managed to answer between slurps. He ran his cock head up and down her slit a few times, nearly slipping inside without even trying and coating it with her natural lubrication, then up, across her taint to her asshole and, without pausing, pushed into her asshole. "Aaaggh!" she let out a wild sound of surprise around his fingers as his cock plunged into her tight asshole. "Fuck!" she groaned as his shaft sank into her, inch by inch, without pause.

"You like that fucking cock, bitch?" he almost spat the words at her.

"Oh yes...oh shit....fuck it's so fucking big..." She moved her right hand, which had been flat against the surface of her desk, down and off the table. Pushing back awkwardly against him to get some space, she reached between her legs.

Before she could begin fingering her clit, he grabbed her arm and wrenched it back up, eliciting a little grunt of surprise and just the right amount, John hoped, of pain. He bent her arm behind her back, and, removing his fingers from her mouth, grabbed her other hand and wrenched it back behind her back. "Did I say you could touch your nasty fucking cunt, bitch?" he rasped at her as he squeezed her wrists together with one hand, freeing up his left hand.

"No, sir," she moaned pathetically, her voice devolving into a whine of pleasure that mixed with the sound of his body slapping against her as his cock drove in and out of her asshole without mercy.

"That's right, whore," he barked at her, not knowing where this aggression was coming from, but as happy to let whatever angry spirit was animating him take control as Penny appeared to be. For all the apparent effort she was going to to keep up the charade, she could not keep a smile from playing across her lips as his throbbing cock repeatedly dug deep into her ass. "You fucking ask permission."

"May I... please... touch my... filthy whore cunt?" she managed to ask between moans.

John, or whatever entity seemed to have taken hold of him, considered for a moment before answering. "No. You cum with your asshole or you don't cum."

"Unngh..." Penny let out a particularly loud moan as John drove his cock into her up to the balls and held it here.

"Cum for me, whore," he commanded. "Cum with my cock up your ass."

"Oh..." Penny moaned, "oh, yes...I'm coming...I'm coming for you..."

John smacked Penny's ass as her body began to shake; she shuddered with pleasure as her asshole clamped down tight on his cock, holding him deep inside her. He held there, letting her feel him deep, buried up to the balls in her quivering asshole. Her orgasm began to subside, her shaking breaking off into irregular little quakes. He was almost surprised she was able to remain standing when he pulled out of her, admiring the way her asshole gaped open for a second before smacking her ass loudly again; it started to redden as he took a step back. "Suck me," the entity controlling him commanded.

She immediately complied, turning and dropping to her knees in front of him. She grabbed his cock with one hand and forced her mouth around it, extending her tongue along the underside of the shaft, and began noisily working him in and out of her lips. Each time she reached the tip, she added another glob of spit, and soon her chin was coated in a slimy mixture of pre-cum and saliva, but she showed no sign of slowing down, letting the fluids drip where they may.

"Taste your nasty asshole, bitch," he snarled at her, placing a hand on the back of her head and pushing her down onto his cock until she began gagging on it.

She pulled back, sputtering. A particularly fat glob of spit tumbled out of her mouth and landed on her knee. "Thank you, sir," she managed to gasp before he pushed her head back down onto his cock.

She placed her hands on his bare thighs, trying to control at least to some extent the pace at which he forced his cock down her throat. No, no, this won't do, an evil voice inside John's head said. He grabbed each of her wrists and pulled them up above her head, bringing them together once again and holding them there, then slammed his cock into her throat once more. Holding her wrists together with one hand, he once again placed the other on the back of her head and pushed.

His cock sank down into her throat. Moments later, he could feel her body try to force him back out, but to no avail. She gagged, making a retching sound that was music to his ears, massaging his cock involuntarily with her convulsions. Finally he let go and she fell backwards onto her ass, spit and pre-cum shimmering on her chin, throat and chest. "Thank you, sir," she panted.

"Good little whore," he snarled. "I think you've just about earned the right to your filthy little cunt."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, her chest still heaving.

"Show me," he said. "Show me how you finger your whore cunt."

"Yes, sir," she said, no longer able to conceal her smile at all. She lay back on the floor and spread her legs before him. She reached her left hand between her legs and began running her fingers up and down her slit, then, stopping on her clit, changed motions, rubbing herself in tight little circles.

The shlick, shlick, shlick, sound that her copious juices made as she masturbated for him were loud enough to hear as he stood perhaps a few feet away. It was not until then that his consciousness seemed to gain the upper hand for a second. There has to be somebody else in the building. They're going to hear this.

So what? snapped back the voice that had been controlling him. I don't work here. This voice took control of his body and he found himself striding over to her. He turned around, straddling her, and watched her fingers work from a different angle for a second, then, suddenly, lowered himself, sitting directly on her face.

"Eat my asshole," he commanded.

Perhaps one second later, John felt Penny's hot, wet tongue reach out and probe his asshole. She wasted no time teasing it, but rather stuffed seemingly the entire length of her tongue directly up his ass before removing it and then repeating the process over and over again. John enjoyed the sensation, watching her finger herself as he stroked himself idly.

"Cum, whore," he commanded simply.

Without stopping her tongue, Penny increased the speed of her fingers, moving them in a blur; tight, rapid little circles. Her pelvis began moving up and down off the floor in irregular little jumps but, to her credit, her tongue never stopped dipping in and out of John's asshole.

The wet, sticky sounds of her fingers were soon joined by deep, powerful moans. Her hips jumped off the floor one more time and remained there, locked into place as she came again, her fingers suddenly halting, her tongue buried deep in his ass.

When her legs relaxed and her ass thudded back to the floor, John stood up, turning around again and bending over slightly to examine her face, which was now coated with spit not just from her lower lip down, but also all over her cheeks and even up to her forehead as well. "Did you enjoy eating my asshole, whore?"

"Yes, sir," she answered faux-meekly. "Will you please fuck your little whore's pussy?"

"No," he replied without thinking, "whores take it up the ass."

"Thank you, sir," she responded. While he stepped over her and moved between her legs, she pulled them up to her chest, hooking her arms under her knees.

He knelt down and took his cock in hand. "Beg for it," he said. He slid his cock head up and down her slit, making a wonderful, wet shlick noise.

"Please fuck my whore ass, sir," she begged.

He pushed against her leg, rocking her onto her upper back and lifting her lower body off the floor, then pressed his cock head against her asshole, which was by this point completely soaked with her pussy juices. It slipped in easily, eliciting a squeal of delight from Penny. "Mmm...fuck...mmm....fuck my ass..." she moaned with pleasure as his dick pumped in and out of her.

John found it mesmerizing how her ass gripped his cock, stretching to take it all and refusing to let go; each time he pulled out, her asshole seemed to hold on tight, trying its best to keep him inside. Her pussy oozed even more juices, which flowed to her ass crack and dripped from there onto his shaft.

"Do you like that, whore?" he grunted at her. "Do you like having a fat cock up your asshole?"

"Yes, sir," she whimpered. "Please, sir, may I cum, sir?"

He reached down to her face and placed his hand on her cheek, staring her in the eyes, then after a slight pause, pulled his hand back a few inches and slapped her. "Yes, whore, you can cum on my cock."

"Thank you sir," she smiled as he moved his hand to her throat. Her expression shifted from a simple smile to one of pure ecstasy, closing her eyes. Her lips reacted to each thrust of his cock into her asshole, then suddenly her entire face tightened. "I'm...cumming..." she moaned.

John felt her asshole clamp down on his cock as she quaked with pleasure and he could no longer hold back. He grunted and released a thick load of hot cum deep into her bowels. "Ah, fuck," he said, "take my fucking cum up your whore asshole."

"Aaah..." she sighed as his balls emptied into her, hot jets of cum filling her ass. By the time he had finished, he felt significantly lighter and he was struggling to remain conscious.

He slipped his softening cock out of her with a lovely wet noise and his cum began immediately spilling out of her gaping asshole and onto the floor. He replaced his cock with a pair of his fingers, which slid effortlessly into her now loosened hole and let some of the sticky cum pool on them. "Mmm..." she moaned at the sudden intrusion, but she maintained her grip on her legs, holding herself open for him.

He brought his fingers to her lips and she obediently parted them for him, letting the glob of his cum ooze its way into her mouth and down into her belly with an audible gulp. "Thank you, sir," she said, only then relaxing her legs.

"Fuck," John said to no one in particular as his mind cleared. It truly was as if someone else had taken control of his body and only then did he, sweating and breathing heavily, regain control as he watched Penny sit up with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Indeed," she said in her trademark fashion. "I was wondering how long it would take you to do something like that."

He looked at her inquisitively, unable to stop smiling.

"I was beginning to worry," she said as she rolled over onto her knees, "that you might really be a beta bitch."

John watched as she picked up the discarded and torn panties and used them to wipe first the spit from her face and then the cum from her ass. He found it strangely hot how she went about this in such a particular, businesslike way.

"Not that beta bitches aren't fun," she continued, "especially ones that know how to eat ass properly." She looked at him and smiled. "But in any case, I am happy you came through, even if it took adding a day of work to get you there."

He laughed and got to his feet as she began pulling on her skirt, having left the now even more wet undergarment on her desk. "So, this is what you were hoping for the whole time?"

She shrugged and responded with a little smile. "It was something of a stretch goal, I suppose. As I said, beta bitches are fun enough in their own way."

"And so now what?" John said.

She looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You're free to go, of course," she said. "Good work. I will definitely be giving you a positive evaluation with your company."

"So..." John said, pulling his pants back up again, "that's it, then?"

"Well, as you mentioned, your contract is up. I'll keep you in mind if we are ever in need of further consultation services in the future."

"Alright, then," John said. He took one more look around the office, though he had no idea what he was looking for. "I guess I'll be going, then. Unless there's anything else you need?"

She smiled. "We'll be in touch."

John just shook his head and headed for home.