Jon hated his job. Clearly, he never expected secretarial tasks to be particularly exciting; he answered the phone, filed papers, and arranged meeting rooms for clients. A rather tedious and easy job; in fact, he often found himself with spare time and walked down the building's corridors while playing with his phone, keeping himself entertained when out of reach of more boring tasks. At least, that was what he used to do. Since Daenerys Targaryen took over, his work had taken a turn. He wasn't allowed to take his phone out unless during breaks, and he had to occupy every available second with household chores. Any task, such as organizing the stationary cupboard, cleaning whiteboards throughout the company or, Daenerys' favorite, washing leftover cups in the kitchen sink. I don't hire people to be idle, she said on his first day of work. All Jon could think was: You didn't hire any of us. But he kept his lips sealed because he couldn't afford to lose his night shift. After all, they paid him slightly above market rate, something his old boss didn't know. But Jon knew it was only a matter of time before Daenerys called him in for a salary review, and then what would he say? He liked his graphs and Excel sheets with many formulas, those that fail when you try to change just one number. Jon was sure his salary stood out like a sore thumb somewhere in his calculations. Maybe that's why he offered to work overtime when no one else would. Maybe he was simply becoming masochistic. Anyway, he found himself alone and dark at 9 pm on a Tuesday, filling envelopes while trying to stay awake after taking his eighth cup of coffee that day. Jon left Another handful of cards fell into the box at her feet, and she stretched out her arms and yawned: 'This crap is going to hell!' Nobody responded. As she spun around in her chair, she looked at the empty desks and the open office stretching out around her, and thought: It's like I'm the last living person on earth. Almost. In the dark office, there was a faint ray of light. Right across from it, in the same row as the meeting rooms, was Daenerys' office. A single lamp still shone in the crystal cubicle, and he could see her shadow behind the large oak desk. I bet you're looking at me, Jon thought with bitterness, gripping the armrests tightly. I bet you're counting every second you see me not working. Out of spite, Jon took his time to return to his own office, close his computer, and pick up the box of envelopes from the floor. He walked slowly and stiffly towards his office, pressing the box against his chest and resting his chin on the client cards. It wasn't until he got closer that he could start to make out her face; her silver hair was pulled back, with a few loose strands hanging over her shoulder, her front teeth resting on her lower lip, pulling it taut with concentration. But her eyes didn't meet his. Instead, they were closed and for a moment Jon wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then he noticed that the top of her knees were pressed against the desk, her arm between her legs, and her back against the chair. And when he stopped to take in the scene before him, he paled as he realized: Daenerys Targaryen is masturbating in her office. Although he couldn't see her pussy, he was sure of it. The way she was swaying slightly forward and backward, her arm trembling, her knees spreading apart more. As Jon stood there looking, he saw her teeth scraping back toward the lip, his brow furrowed and his cheeks flushed. Daenerys is the damn Targaryen, thought Jon, licking his dry lips as he gazed at the scene before him. It was strange to try to reconcile the image he had of her (the strict, condescending, and respectful leader) with what he saw now: a lascivious, soft, and needy woman. In fact, he was so disconcerted that he barely noticed she had opened her eyes and was looking back at him. He should have felt embarrassed, thought Jon. But while she looked at him, she didn't blush, but simply smiled and, to his surprise, continued working. Daenerys's legs opened even wider. She sank further into the chair. Through the crystal, Jon could hear the leather creaking, and it mixed with a soft sigh from her lips. That was all he needed; Jon left the box on the floor, took a deep breath, and then walked directly to the door. The room was filled with the smell of sex. He knocked at the moment he crossed the threshold. It was that pleasant aroma of sweat and woman, pussy and perfume, all mixed together. It provoked his nostrils and made his groin throb. Yet, he restrained himself and stopped as the door closed behind him, with his arms hanging limp at his sides for lack of a better use. He wasn't sure what to do, feeling like he had intruded on some kind of porn filming, more so when Daenerys smiled and closed her eyes. She didn't bother greeting him; she only said: Have you finished your work? Jon made a submissive gesture toward the box behind him, although he knew she wasn't looking. I'm done. “Will I find many mistakes again?” Jon shrugged and then spoke honestly: Probably. His response made her laugh, and her eyelids lifted, revealing her warm violet gaze. The way she looked at him made him feel like she was eating him up. This is definitely different from before, decided Jon, remembering how cold that had been her gaze that morning when she scolded him for arriving three minutes late. 'I found your CV,' spoke Daenerys. She shrugged her shoulders, the movement causing her jacket to open even more, revealing more of her white shirt underneath. Through the fabric, Jon could see the contour of a black lace bra. 'Do you seem proud of your attention to detail?' Jon wasn't sure if it was a joke or a question, so he limited himself to breathing: 'Ah' and licking his lips again. He wasn't sure when his mouth became so dry, but he felt as though his throat constricted around itself, making it hard for him to breathe. What was he supposed to say, where should he look? Without secure answers, Jon limited himself to looking hungrily, his eyes devouring the scene. Daenerys sighed lightly. 'I still have to see that kind of attention promised in your work.' 'Well, ma'am,' said Jon, 'I feel like maybe I haven't been given the opportunity.' 'What kind of opportunity are you looking for?' Jon paused. 'Forget it?' he asked, and waited for Daenerys to recognize him. When she looked at him, he felt a shiver run down his back and his stomach churned. 'Ma'am, is she trying to seduce me?' Daenerys whimpered slightly while her arm moved faster. For a moment, she didn't speak, simply reclining in her chair as if touching a particularly good spot. 'Whatever,' she spoke, with an interrupted voice, 'does that make you think, Jon?' Jon felt sweat under his collar. He pulled on his tie, loosened the knot and slowly opened the first button of his shirt. 'Ma'am,' he spoke again, 'I think I'm done for today.' 'Are you asking permission to go back home?' - Asked Daenerys. 'I'm asking if you might need me for something more.' She cocked her head, clearly considering his words. 'Well, Jon,' she said finally, 'I like men who take the initiative.' 'That's it,' responded Jon, but for Then he was already walking towards his desk. He grabbed the edge of the table, his eyes met hers so intensely that she stopped for a moment, with her inactive hand on her sex. Then, without breaking eye contact, Jon knelt down on the floor, buried his head under the desk and crawled until he could push his nose against her thighs. Her skin was smooth and warm, and the smell of sex even stronger. Daenerys gasped when Jon gave her a soft kiss on the skin and then pushed his face between her open legs. It was easy to access; her skirt was already around her crotch, her panties had been pushed aside to one side and her pussy was wet from her own touch. When Jon licked her lips, she gasped and her hands sank into her wild hair as she grabbed him tightly. When Jon started licking her, she felt a warmth spreading through her body. It began in her busy lips like a tingling sensation, accelerated by the taste of her juices, and shook her from her chest to her crotch, where her cock began to pulse animatedly. On his hands and knees, he could feel his body awakening, even more so when her plump thighs closed tightly around his cheeks, her sex suffocating his face. I knew you were clever, Daenerys whispered with a smile, her fingers dragging through his hair. The way she twisted and gathered her strands made his scalp hurt, but Jon didn't care; he liked the need he could feel in her, the desire to have more of him while his tongue pressed against her protuberance, rubbing it wetly. As she twisted over him, Jon moved closer, allowing his hands to search for her legs. His fingers caressed her ankles, beyond her knees, thighs, until they reached her sex. He pushed her lips together to close her protuberance and, as he traced her shape smoothly, left space for a finger to slide inside She was so wet and ready that he had no trouble inserting two, feeling her tight entrails closing around him as he pushed his points inward and outward. 'Oh, gods', she whispered, her feet pushing the sides of her body until her heels rested on her back. As she brought him closer, he felt trapped in his position beneath her desk, his body pushing his face with need. 'Oh yes!' Her sounds urged him to continue; Jon licked, sucked, and made his way deeper into her sex, wanting to savor her and feel her completely. When his nose pushed against her skin, he found himself breathing in her aroma, and amidst her agitations and gasps, his heart took a turn of emotion. I'm eating Daenerys, he thought, incredulously. And she loves it. 'Who would have said that those arrogant lips could be so useful?' Daenerys purred, pressing the back of Jon's head while rubbing to find her greedy tongue. Jon wanted to respond: Who knew you were a leader so in need? but with his mouth too busy, he could only respond by replacing his fingers with his tongue, his wet tip tracing her entrance as his nose hit her protuberance. Maybe it was because he had already gotten hard. Perhaps he simply found the right spot. All Jon knew was that while stretching his tongue to savor her more deeply, she reached his lips. Jon took his time to delight in her juices, his nose barely breathing so close to her skin. But although his fingers relaxed their grip and his legs trembled above him, he hadn't finished: he withdrew his tongue as he kissed from her protuberance to her mount, her lower stomach, her navel. He was on top of her clothes now, his face curled up in her shirt while he sniffed, the aroma was so sweet that he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. 'Do you always do this when you work until' late? He heard himself ask, and looked at her, finding her eyes unfocused as she breathed. Her lips curved into a slight smile. Masturbating? he asked, clicking his tongue before looking at her. Depends on the day. “And the participants?” Jon asked, unsure why he was so anxious to hear her say it. But still he asked: “Does it also depend on the day?” And when she took his face in her hands, looking at him honestly as she spoke: Never before, Jon felt that tingling sensation returning to his stomach. He wanted to hold back, but the impulse he felt was stronger; he kissed his way up to her chest, his hands grasping her body; her tense belly, small waist, heavy breasts. Soon, he could climb up from under the desk to reclaim her lips. They were as soft as they seemed and very wet. He made them even softer while pressing his tongue in her mouth, letting her savor him. It was when he placed her on her chair that he realized: I want to screw her. It was a thought that had passed through his mind previously, but more like a fleeting dream than a reality. Like when she leaned against his desk to look at her screen and he saw her stretching her skirt over her buttocks. Or when she caught him talking on the phone in the kitchen and began scolding him, unaware of how her water bottle was soaking his shirt, exposing her nipples underneath. Or like now, while she grabbed his tie, drawing him deeper into the kiss, her tongue searching beyond his lips in an attempt to get more. But this time, Jon wanted to be the one in control. He let her kiss him, taste his teeth, his tongue and mouth, but then, when she began wrapping his hand with the tie, he stepped back. She gasped in surprise when he got up, his body still following hers, and seemed to slowly realize what he had in mind. By then, Jon had already walked away. Around her chair and was standing behind her, extending his hand over her shoulders while rubbing her breasts with the palms of his hands. Get up, he said in a rough voice. Daenerys smiled. No, sir? —she asked, but still obeyed; she took control of her trembling legs, forcing herself to stand up, but before she could turn around to look at him, his arms wrapped around her. She barely knew what was happening before he ripped her shirt and left her breasts exposed to the cold air of the office. Jon! She shuddered and looked at her bare chest. Her bra was soft and barely covered her nipples as they hardened under the lace. Jon's hands searched for hers, his palms rubbing her nipples while his lips caressed her neck. I want to fuck you, he told her skin, pressing his nose against the soft skin of her ear. Daenerys laughed between her teeth and bit her lower lip. I was waiting for you to say that, she whispered. Jon pushed his hand towards her back, forcing her to lean over her desk, and kicked the chair aside while approaching her rear. Holding her with one hand, the other searched between her legs and began to rub her wet pussy as she moaned beneath him. For weeks I had been waiting for you to accept overtime, he said, pushing the desk with his hands and grabbing the other side as he stabilized himself. What took you so long? Only boring work gives me, Jon said, sinking his fingers into her pussy again. As she moaned, he smiled and gave her a kiss on her dressed back. Maybe you have tasks more suitable for me in the future? Daenerys laughed out of breath, her rear pushing against her groin. Maybe, she said, depending on performance. At this, Jon bent down and pressed his mouth against her bare buttocks. He kissed his way from her panties to between her legs, then pushed his fingers under the lace while removing them. With her His pants hanging from his feet, it was easier for him to go back and try again, and Daenerys separated her legs more, letting him wander through her pussy. However, he didn't expect what he did next; while going up her buttocks, he opened them, his tongue searched between her cheeks and her rear. At first, she felt tense and it hurt her back as she tried to look at him over her shoulder. But then, when his tongue ran along her rear, she gasped and fell onto the desk on her back. You don't have to... she started, but Jon assured her: But I want - and let his tongue oscillate around the tight ring of muscles, tasting and kissing it carelessly, all at once. It was only when her legs began to tremble again, and her cock pulsated with need, that she finally got up, grabbing her buttocks with one hand while unbuttoning her pants with the other. Jon quickly pulled out his cock, his eyes looking at Daenerys' body as he gave her a few hits. She was beautiful; plump thighs, small waist, thick ass. The way she now twisted in front of him provoked his senses, and he gave her a brief slap before taking his pulsating cock to her pussy. When his head of penis pushed between her wet lips, he shuddered, and once he positioned himself at her entrance, he couldn't hold back anymore: Jon pushed himself into her with a hard and needed pull. Daenerys moaned beneath him, and he grabbed her waist, holding her in place while slowly retreating only to hit her again. At first, his movements were rough, only driven by his need for her pussy, but when she started pushing him, they developed a rhythm together. Jon felt sweat running down his face as he was fucking his boss against the desk, the only sound in the office being their pants, moans, and the desk slowly moving across the floor. Daenerys, the damn Targaryen, Jon thought again, with his eyes still incredulous as he gazed at the scene before him. There was something sensual in the way she arched her back, in the way her fingers dragged the wood in search of support, in the way she moaned, begging for more. Who could have known you were so bad? But while thinking this, he felt a shiver run down his body, and in his mind added: And who could have imagined it would be just as coarse? The more Jon screwed her, the tighter his muscles contracted to his length, the closer he got to the edge. When he felt his balls tighten up, he put his hand between her legs and started working her protuberance with his fingertips, and he felt satisfied listening to her moan at his touch. When he entered her, she quickly followed with her own orgasm, her wet sex rubbing against his cock and fingers at the same time. When Jon withdrew, he felt weak, grabbed the chair and sat down, surprised to find Daenerys joining him as well. She simply sank back, sliding into his lap while relaxing, her lips searching for his ear and her arms around his neck. That was something else, she spoke with vehemence, her legs sliding over the armrest as she curled up beside him. Jon nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead. It's sure to be, he agreed. As his body cooled down, he began to feel his heartbeats accelerate once more. It was as if they had woken him up from a dream, and when he looked around, he slowly understood what had happened: He had screwed his boss. He had screwed his boss. I've screwed my boss, Jon thought, blinking. While still trying to come to terms with everything in his head, Daenerys yawned and ran her fingers through his hair. Well, Jon, she said, putting on the jacket of her suit over her exposed bra while waiting for him to look at her eyes. What do you think about... overtime next week? And when Jon looked at her eyes, the purple shining with lust, he could only agree: That sounds like a benefit.
Jon hated his job. Clearly, he never expected secretarial tasks to be particularly exciting; he answered the phone, filed papers, and arranged meeting rooms for clients. A rather tedious and easy job; in fact, he often found himself with spare time and walked down the building's corridors while playing with his phone, keeping himself entertained when out of reach of more boring tasks. At least, that was what he used to do. Since Daenerys Targaryen took over, his work had taken a turn. He wasn't allowed to take his phone out unless during breaks, and he had to occupy every available second with household chores. Any task, such as organizing the stationary cupboard, cleaning whiteboards throughout the company or, Daenerys' favorite, washing leftover cups in the kitchen sink. I don't hire people to be idle, she said on his first day of work. All Jon could think was: You didn't hire any of us. But he kept his lips sealed because he couldn't afford to lose his night shift. After all, they paid him slightly above market rate, something his old boss didn't know. But Jon knew it was only a matter of time before Daenerys called him in for a salary review, and then what would he say? He liked his graphs and Excel sheets with many formulas, those that fail when you try to change just one number. Jon was sure his salary stood out like a sore thumb somewhere in his calculations. Maybe that's why he offered to work overtime when no one else would. Maybe he was simply becoming masochistic. Anyway, he found himself alone and dark at 9 pm on a Tuesday, filling envelopes while trying to stay awake after taking his eighth cup of coffee that day. Jon left Another handful of cards fell into the box at her feet, and she stretched out her arms and yawned: 'This crap is going to hell!' Nobody responded. As she spun around in her chair, she looked at the empty desks and the open office stretching out around her, and thought: It's like I'm the last living person on earth. Almost. In the dark office, there was a faint ray of light. Right across from it, in the same row as the meeting rooms, was Daenerys' office. A single lamp still shone in the crystal cubicle, and he could see her shadow behind the large oak desk. I bet you're looking at me, Jon thought with bitterness, gripping the armrests tightly. I bet you're counting every second you see me not working. Out of spite, Jon took his time to return to his own office, close his computer, and pick up the box of envelopes from the floor. He walked slowly and stiffly towards his office, pressing the box against his chest and resting his chin on the client cards. It wasn't until he got closer that he could start to make out her face; her silver hair was pulled back, with a few loose strands hanging over her shoulder, her front teeth resting on her lower lip, pulling it taut with concentration. But her eyes didn't meet his. Instead, they were closed and for a moment Jon wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then he noticed that the top of her knees were pressed against the desk, her arm between her legs, and her back against the chair. And when he stopped to take in the scene before him, he paled as he realized: Daenerys Targaryen is masturbating in her office. Although he couldn't see her pussy, he was sure of it. The way she was swaying slightly forward and backward, her arm trembling, her knees spreading apart more. As Jon stood there looking, he saw her teeth scraping back toward the lip, his brow furrowed and his cheeks flushed. Daenerys is the damn Targaryen, thought Jon, licking his dry lips as he gazed at the scene before him. It was strange to try to reconcile the image he had of her (the strict, condescending, and respectful leader) with what he saw now: a lascivious, soft, and needy woman. In fact, he was so disconcerted that he barely noticed she had opened her eyes and was looking back at him. He should have felt embarrassed, thought Jon. But while she looked at him, she didn't blush, but simply smiled and, to his surprise, continued working. Daenerys's legs opened even wider. She sank further into the chair. Through the crystal, Jon could hear the leather creaking, and it mixed with a soft sigh from her lips. That was all he needed; Jon left the box on the floor, took a deep breath, and then walked directly to the door. The room was filled with the smell of sex. He knocked at the moment he crossed the threshold. It was that pleasant aroma of sweat and woman, pussy and perfume, all mixed together. It provoked his nostrils and made his groin throb. Yet, he restrained himself and stopped as the door closed behind him, with his arms hanging limp at his sides for lack of a better use. He wasn't sure what to do, feeling like he had intruded on some kind of porn filming, more so when Daenerys smiled and closed her eyes. She didn't bother greeting him; she only said: Have you finished your work? Jon made a submissive gesture toward the box behind him, although he knew she wasn't looking. I'm done. “Will I find many mistakes again?” Jon shrugged and then spoke honestly: Probably. His response made her laugh, and her eyelids lifted, revealing her warm violet gaze. The way she looked at him made him feel like she was eating him up. This is definitely different from before, decided Jon, remembering how cold that had been her gaze that morning when she scolded him for arriving three minutes late. 'I found your CV,' spoke Daenerys. She shrugged her shoulders, the movement causing her jacket to open even more, revealing more of her white shirt underneath. Through the fabric, Jon could see the contour of a black lace bra. 'Do you seem proud of your attention to detail?' Jon wasn't sure if it was a joke or a question, so he limited himself to breathing: 'Ah' and licking his lips again. He wasn't sure when his mouth became so dry, but he felt as though his throat constricted around itself, making it hard for him to breathe. What was he supposed to say, where should he look? Without secure answers, Jon limited himself to looking hungrily, his eyes devouring the scene. Daenerys sighed lightly. 'I still have to see that kind of attention promised in your work.' 'Well, ma'am,' said Jon, 'I feel like maybe I haven't been given the opportunity.' 'What kind of opportunity are you looking for?' Jon paused. 'Forget it?' he asked, and waited for Daenerys to recognize him. When she looked at him, he felt a shiver run down his back and his stomach churned. 'Ma'am, is she trying to seduce me?' Daenerys whimpered slightly while her arm moved faster. For a moment, she didn't speak, simply reclining in her chair as if touching a particularly good spot. 'Whatever,' she spoke, with an interrupted voice, 'does that make you think, Jon?' Jon felt sweat under his collar. He pulled on his tie, loosened the knot and slowly opened the first button of his shirt. 'Ma'am,' he spoke again, 'I think I'm done for today.' 'Are you asking permission to go back home?' - Asked Daenerys. 'I'm asking if you might need me for something more.' She cocked her head, clearly considering his words. 'Well, Jon,' she said finally, 'I like men who take the initiative.' 'That's it,' responded Jon, but for Then he was already walking towards his desk. He grabbed the edge of the table, his eyes met hers so intensely that she stopped for a moment, with her inactive hand on her sex. Then, without breaking eye contact, Jon knelt down on the floor, buried his head under the desk and crawled until he could push his nose against her thighs. Her skin was smooth and warm, and the smell of sex even stronger. Daenerys gasped when Jon gave her a soft kiss on the skin and then pushed his face between her open legs. It was easy to access; her skirt was already around her crotch, her panties had been pushed aside to one side and her pussy was wet from her own touch. When Jon licked her lips, she gasped and her hands sank into her wild hair as she grabbed him tightly. When Jon started licking her, she felt a warmth spreading through her body. It began in her busy lips like a tingling sensation, accelerated by the taste of her juices, and shook her from her chest to her crotch, where her cock began to pulse animatedly. On his hands and knees, he could feel his body awakening, even more so when her plump thighs closed tightly around his cheeks, her sex suffocating his face. I knew you were clever, Daenerys whispered with a smile, her fingers dragging through his hair. The way she twisted and gathered her strands made his scalp hurt, but Jon didn't care; he liked the need he could feel in her, the desire to have more of him while his tongue pressed against her protuberance, rubbing it wetly. As she twisted over him, Jon moved closer, allowing his hands to search for her legs. His fingers caressed her ankles, beyond her knees, thighs, until they reached her sex. He pushed her lips together to close her protuberance and, as he traced her shape smoothly, left space for a finger to slide inside She was so wet and ready that he had no trouble inserting two, feeling her tight entrails closing around him as he pushed his points inward and outward. 'Oh, gods', she whispered, her feet pushing the sides of her body until her heels rested on her back. As she brought him closer, he felt trapped in his position beneath her desk, his body pushing his face with need. 'Oh yes!' Her sounds urged him to continue; Jon licked, sucked, and made his way deeper into her sex, wanting to savor her and feel her completely. When his nose pushed against her skin, he found himself breathing in her aroma, and amidst her agitations and gasps, his heart took a turn of emotion. I'm eating Daenerys, he thought, incredulously. And she loves it. 'Who would have said that those arrogant lips could be so useful?' Daenerys purred, pressing the back of Jon's head while rubbing to find her greedy tongue. Jon wanted to respond: Who knew you were a leader so in need? but with his mouth too busy, he could only respond by replacing his fingers with his tongue, his wet tip tracing her entrance as his nose hit her protuberance. Maybe it was because he had already gotten hard. Perhaps he simply found the right spot. All Jon knew was that while stretching his tongue to savor her more deeply, she reached his lips. Jon took his time to delight in her juices, his nose barely breathing so close to her skin. But although his fingers relaxed their grip and his legs trembled above him, he hadn't finished: he withdrew his tongue as he kissed from her protuberance to her mount, her lower stomach, her navel. He was on top of her clothes now, his face curled up in her shirt while he sniffed, the aroma was so sweet that he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. 'Do you always do this when you work until' late? He heard himself ask, and looked at her, finding her eyes unfocused as she breathed. Her lips curved into a slight smile. Masturbating? he asked, clicking his tongue before looking at her. Depends on the day. “And the participants?” Jon asked, unsure why he was so anxious to hear her say it. But still he asked: “Does it also depend on the day?” And when she took his face in her hands, looking at him honestly as she spoke: Never before, Jon felt that tingling sensation returning to his stomach. He wanted to hold back, but the impulse he felt was stronger; he kissed his way up to her chest, his hands grasping her body; her tense belly, small waist, heavy breasts. Soon, he could climb up from under the desk to reclaim her lips. They were as soft as they seemed and very wet. He made them even softer while pressing his tongue in her mouth, letting her savor him. It was when he placed her on her chair that he realized: I want to screw her. It was a thought that had passed through his mind previously, but more like a fleeting dream than a reality. Like when she leaned against his desk to look at her screen and he saw her stretching her skirt over her buttocks. Or when she caught him talking on the phone in the kitchen and began scolding him, unaware of how her water bottle was soaking his shirt, exposing her nipples underneath. Or like now, while she grabbed his tie, drawing him deeper into the kiss, her tongue searching beyond his lips in an attempt to get more. But this time, Jon wanted to be the one in control. He let her kiss him, taste his teeth, his tongue and mouth, but then, when she began wrapping his hand with the tie, he stepped back. She gasped in surprise when he got up, his body still following hers, and seemed to slowly realize what he had in mind. By then, Jon had already walked away. Around her chair and was standing behind her, extending his hand over her shoulders while rubbing her breasts with the palms of his hands. Get up, he said in a rough voice. Daenerys smiled. No, sir? —she asked, but still obeyed; she took control of her trembling legs, forcing herself to stand up, but before she could turn around to look at him, his arms wrapped around her. She barely knew what was happening before he ripped her shirt and left her breasts exposed to the cold air of the office. Jon! She shuddered and looked at her bare chest. Her bra was soft and barely covered her nipples as they hardened under the lace. Jon's hands searched for hers, his palms rubbing her nipples while his lips caressed her neck. I want to fuck you, he told her skin, pressing his nose against the soft skin of her ear. Daenerys laughed between her teeth and bit her lower lip. I was waiting for you to say that, she whispered. Jon pushed his hand towards her back, forcing her to lean over her desk, and kicked the chair aside while approaching her rear. Holding her with one hand, the other searched between her legs and began to rub her wet pussy as she moaned beneath him. For weeks I had been waiting for you to accept overtime, he said, pushing the desk with his hands and grabbing the other side as he stabilized himself. What took you so long? Only boring work gives me, Jon said, sinking his fingers into her pussy again. As she moaned, he smiled and gave her a kiss on her dressed back. Maybe you have tasks more suitable for me in the future? Daenerys laughed out of breath, her rear pushing against her groin. Maybe, she said, depending on performance. At this, Jon bent down and pressed his mouth against her bare buttocks. He kissed his way from her panties to between her legs, then pushed his fingers under the lace while removing them. With her His pants hanging from his feet, it was easier for him to go back and try again, and Daenerys separated her legs more, letting him wander through her pussy. However, he didn't expect what he did next; while going up her buttocks, he opened them, his tongue searched between her cheeks and her rear. At first, she felt tense and it hurt her back as she tried to look at him over her shoulder. But then, when his tongue ran along her rear, she gasped and fell onto the desk on her back. You don't have to... she started, but Jon assured her: But I want - and let his tongue oscillate around the tight ring of muscles, tasting and kissing it carelessly, all at once. It was only when her legs began to tremble again, and her cock pulsated with need, that she finally got up, grabbing her buttocks with one hand while unbuttoning her pants with the other. Jon quickly pulled out his cock, his eyes looking at Daenerys' body as he gave her a few hits. She was beautiful; plump thighs, small waist, thick ass. The way she now twisted in front of him provoked his senses, and he gave her a brief slap before taking his pulsating cock to her pussy. When his head of penis pushed between her wet lips, he shuddered, and once he positioned himself at her entrance, he couldn't hold back anymore: Jon pushed himself into her with a hard and needed pull. Daenerys moaned beneath him, and he grabbed her waist, holding her in place while slowly retreating only to hit her again. At first, his movements were rough, only driven by his need for her pussy, but when she started pushing him, they developed a rhythm together. Jon felt sweat running down his face as he was fucking his boss against the desk, the only sound in the office being their pants, moans, and the desk slowly moving across the floor. Daenerys, the damn Targaryen, Jon thought again, with his eyes still incredulous as he gazed at the scene before him. There was something sensual in the way she arched her back, in the way her fingers dragged the wood in search of support, in the way she moaned, begging for more. Who could have known you were so bad? But while thinking this, he felt a shiver run down his body, and in his mind added: And who could have imagined it would be just as coarse? The more Jon screwed her, the tighter his muscles contracted to his length, the closer he got to the edge. When he felt his balls tighten up, he put his hand between her legs and started working her protuberance with his fingertips, and he felt satisfied listening to her moan at his touch. When he entered her, she quickly followed with her own orgasm, her wet sex rubbing against his cock and fingers at the same time. When Jon withdrew, he felt weak, grabbed the chair and sat down, surprised to find Daenerys joining him as well. She simply sank back, sliding into his lap while relaxing, her lips searching for his ear and her arms around his neck. That was something else, she spoke with vehemence, her legs sliding over the armrest as she curled up beside him. Jon nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead. It's sure to be, he agreed. As his body cooled down, he began to feel his heartbeats accelerate once more. It was as if they had woken him up from a dream, and when he looked around, he slowly understood what had happened: He had screwed his boss. He had screwed his boss. I've screwed my boss, Jon thought, blinking. While still trying to come to terms with everything in his head, Daenerys yawned and ran her fingers through his hair. Well, Jon, she said, putting on the jacket of her suit over her exposed bra while waiting for him to look at her eyes. What do you think about... overtime next week? And when Jon looked at her eyes, the purple shining with lust, he could only agree: That sounds like a benefit.
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