20-03-2025, 01:56 PM
Maya climbed out of the Mercedes, smoothing her hair, her thighs still slick with their cum as it dripped down her skin beneath her skirt. “Come on, help me with that pitch upstairs,” she said, her voice teasing but edged with intent. “Then you’re free—until you ditch me tomorrow.” She adjusted her blouse, the fabric clinging to her sweat-damp skin, and shot him a look that said she wasn’t letting him go that easily.
Arjun locked the car, pocketing the keys, his grin faint but knowing. He followed her up the private elevator to the top floor, her solar company’s sleek office humming with quiet efficiency even late in the day. Maya knew he wasn’t just a driver—his sharp mind had caught her off guard months ago. He’d dissected her pitch drafts with insights her MBA-laden employees fumbled, spotting market trends and financial gaps they missed. Once, before a brutal investor meeting, she’d been a wreck—stuttering through slides, her confidence crumbling. Arjun had stepped in, suggesting a practice run his way, and damn if it hadn’t worked.
That night, in the closed conference room, he’d flipped the script. “Lights off,” he’d said, killing the overheads, leaving only the focus light to bathe her. She’d stripped naked at his nudge—her pussy pulsing at the sheer audacity—standing bare under the beam, her dusky skin glowing as the PowerPoint slides flickered behind her. He’d sat in the dark, his voice steady, guiding her through each point. “Slow down, boss. Hit ‘em with the numbers here.” Her stuttering eased, her rhythm found, the thrill of his eyes on her naked body melting her nerves. She’d nailed the real pitch next day, but not before he’d fucked her on the conference table, her moans bouncing off the glass walls as the slides looped.
She could’ve done it without him—her ambition was steel—but his way made her wet, made it fun, made her crave his input. Today, with this solar pitch looming and his four-month exit hanging over her, she hoped for a repeat. Her pussy dripped as she walked, the anticipation throbbing between her legs, a blatant ploy to keep him beside her longer. Arjun knew it too—saw through her game—but he played along, his steps calm behind her.
The office was empty, the staff gone, the conference room theirs. She locked the door, her fingers trembling slightly, and turned to him. “Help me practice,” she said, already kicking off her heels, her skirt dropping as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Like last time.” Her bra hit the floor, then her panties, her naked body catching the dim light filtering through the blinds. She flicked on the projector, the slides glowing—solar yields, profit margins—then killed the overheads, grabbing the focus light remote. A click, and the beam hit her, illuminating her curves, her nipples hardening as she faced him.
Arjun leaned against the table, arms crossed, his dark eyes glinting in the shadows. “You don’t need this, boss,” he said, his tone low, amused. “You’ve got it cold. This is just you stalling me.”
She smirked, stepping closer, her pussy pulsing as the light danced over her. “Maybe. But you’re too good to waste. Pitch me.” She started—voice steady at first, sliding into the stats—but her eyes locked on his, her body swaying slightly, the heat between her legs begging for him.
He let her get halfway, then stood, closing the distance. “Pause,” he said, his hand brushing her hip, sending a jolt through her. “You’re rushing the ROI part. Slow it down—let ‘em feel the money.” His fingers slid lower, grazing her inner thigh, slick with her arousal. “Try again.”
She did, her voice huskier now, the words tumbling out as he dropped to his knees, his breath hot against her pussy. “Projected growth… ten percent annually…” His tongue flicked her clit, and she gasped, gripping his hair. “Fuck—Arjun—” He sucked harder, her legs trembling as she forced the next slide, the clicker shaking in her hand. “Market expansion… by Q3…” He thrust two fingers inside her, curling them, and she moaned, the pitch dissolving into a cry as she came, her juices dripping down his wrist, the light beam wavering as she bucked against him.
He stood, wiping his mouth, grinning as she panted. “Better. You’ll kill it tomorrow.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out an iPill, handing it to her casually. “Here. Forgot earlier.”
Maya took it, still naked, her chest heaving, and raised an eyebrow. “You afraid of me getting pregnant?” she teased, popping it from the foil.
Arjun’s grin widened, his eyes sweeping her body with a mix of heat and something deeper. “Afraid? Nah, boss. You’d be fucking gorgeous swollen with my kid—carrying it like a queen. I’d want that, if you didn’t have all this.” He nodded at the slides, her empire glowing behind her. “Your ambition’s too big for it now—hell, you’d have done IVF already if it wasn’t. I’m just playing smart.”
Her breath caught, his words hitting her harder than she expected—praise wrapped in truth, cutting through her haze. She smirked to cover it, tossing the pill back with a swig from her water bottle. “Smooth talker. You’re still ditching me for four months, though.”
He shrugged, stepping back. “Gotta. Driving gig—long haul. Back before you know it.” He grabbed his jacket, pausing at the door. “Nail that pitch, boss. You don’t need me for it.”
Arjun stepped back after handing her the iPill, his jacket slung over his shoulder, pausing at the conference room door. “Nail that pitch, boss. You don’t need me for it.”
Maya stood there, still naked under the focus light, the projector humming faintly as the slides looped behind her. She swallowed the pill with a swig of water, her chest rising and falling, then smirked. “Wait. Sit.” She nodded at the chair he’d vacated, her voice softer but commanding. He raised an eyebrow but complied, dropping into the seat, his legs spread casually as she walked over, her hips swaying, her pussy still glistening from their earlier chaos.
She perched on the edge of the conference table, legs crossed, the light beam catching her curves. “That room boy this morning,” she said, a wicked glint in her eyes. “I loved him watching us. Got me so fucking thrilled.” She uncrossed her legs, guiding his hand between her thighs, pressing his fingers into her dripping pussy. “Feel that? Just thinking about it gets me this wet. You think I’m a bitch for it? A shameless slut?”
Arjun’s fingers slid through her slickness, his grin slow and steady as he looked up at her. “No, boss. You’re no bitch, no slut. You’re a powerqueen—owning what you want, deserving every damn bit of it. That’s not shameless; it’s strength.”
Her breath hitched, his words stoking the heat in her core. She slid off the table, kneeling between his legs, her hands tugging at his belt. “Call me slut, Arjun,” she murmured, her voice thick with need. “I’m your slut, your dirty little queen, your fucktoy—say it.” Her eyes locked on his, fierce and pleading, as she freed his cock, her intent clear.
He chuckled, low and rough, leaning back. “Alright, my slut. My powerqueen. Whatever you want, boss.”
She knelt there, taking him in, her hands and mouth working him with a hunger that matched her words.
Next Scene: Office Aftermath
Arjun slumped in a corner of Maya’s sleek office, looking like a mango sucked dry—his shirt rumpled, hair mussed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. The late afternoon sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows over the polished desks and glass partitions. He leaned against a filing cabinet, arms crossed, his energy drained from their marathon of sex and her relentless demands. His legs felt like lead, his cock still tingling from her mouth in the conference room, but a faint grin lingered—he’d given her everything she’d wanted, and then some.
Maya, though, was a dynamo. She sat at her desk, radiant and buzzing, her laptop open as she typed furiously, prepping the solar pitch with a focus that belied the hours they’d spent fucking. Her blouse was crisp again, her hair pulled back, but her cheeks glowed with a post-sex flush, her energy electric. She hummed softly, flipping through slides, occasionally barking orders at an assistant over the phone—“Get me the Q3 projections, now!”—her voice sharp and alive. She looked satisfied, unstoppable, like the powerqueen he’d named her, thriving where he faltered.
Arjun watched her, his head tilted, marveling at how she turned their wildness into fuel. Four months loomed ahead—his vague “driving gig” pulling him away tomorrow—but she’d be fine, he knew it. She didn’t need him, not really, though he’d miss the hell out of her fire.
Arjun locked the car, pocketing the keys, his grin faint but knowing. He followed her up the private elevator to the top floor, her solar company’s sleek office humming with quiet efficiency even late in the day. Maya knew he wasn’t just a driver—his sharp mind had caught her off guard months ago. He’d dissected her pitch drafts with insights her MBA-laden employees fumbled, spotting market trends and financial gaps they missed. Once, before a brutal investor meeting, she’d been a wreck—stuttering through slides, her confidence crumbling. Arjun had stepped in, suggesting a practice run his way, and damn if it hadn’t worked.
That night, in the closed conference room, he’d flipped the script. “Lights off,” he’d said, killing the overheads, leaving only the focus light to bathe her. She’d stripped naked at his nudge—her pussy pulsing at the sheer audacity—standing bare under the beam, her dusky skin glowing as the PowerPoint slides flickered behind her. He’d sat in the dark, his voice steady, guiding her through each point. “Slow down, boss. Hit ‘em with the numbers here.” Her stuttering eased, her rhythm found, the thrill of his eyes on her naked body melting her nerves. She’d nailed the real pitch next day, but not before he’d fucked her on the conference table, her moans bouncing off the glass walls as the slides looped.
She could’ve done it without him—her ambition was steel—but his way made her wet, made it fun, made her crave his input. Today, with this solar pitch looming and his four-month exit hanging over her, she hoped for a repeat. Her pussy dripped as she walked, the anticipation throbbing between her legs, a blatant ploy to keep him beside her longer. Arjun knew it too—saw through her game—but he played along, his steps calm behind her.
The office was empty, the staff gone, the conference room theirs. She locked the door, her fingers trembling slightly, and turned to him. “Help me practice,” she said, already kicking off her heels, her skirt dropping as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Like last time.” Her bra hit the floor, then her panties, her naked body catching the dim light filtering through the blinds. She flicked on the projector, the slides glowing—solar yields, profit margins—then killed the overheads, grabbing the focus light remote. A click, and the beam hit her, illuminating her curves, her nipples hardening as she faced him.
Arjun leaned against the table, arms crossed, his dark eyes glinting in the shadows. “You don’t need this, boss,” he said, his tone low, amused. “You’ve got it cold. This is just you stalling me.”
She smirked, stepping closer, her pussy pulsing as the light danced over her. “Maybe. But you’re too good to waste. Pitch me.” She started—voice steady at first, sliding into the stats—but her eyes locked on his, her body swaying slightly, the heat between her legs begging for him.
He let her get halfway, then stood, closing the distance. “Pause,” he said, his hand brushing her hip, sending a jolt through her. “You’re rushing the ROI part. Slow it down—let ‘em feel the money.” His fingers slid lower, grazing her inner thigh, slick with her arousal. “Try again.”
She did, her voice huskier now, the words tumbling out as he dropped to his knees, his breath hot against her pussy. “Projected growth… ten percent annually…” His tongue flicked her clit, and she gasped, gripping his hair. “Fuck—Arjun—” He sucked harder, her legs trembling as she forced the next slide, the clicker shaking in her hand. “Market expansion… by Q3…” He thrust two fingers inside her, curling them, and she moaned, the pitch dissolving into a cry as she came, her juices dripping down his wrist, the light beam wavering as she bucked against him.
He stood, wiping his mouth, grinning as she panted. “Better. You’ll kill it tomorrow.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out an iPill, handing it to her casually. “Here. Forgot earlier.”
Maya took it, still naked, her chest heaving, and raised an eyebrow. “You afraid of me getting pregnant?” she teased, popping it from the foil.
Arjun’s grin widened, his eyes sweeping her body with a mix of heat and something deeper. “Afraid? Nah, boss. You’d be fucking gorgeous swollen with my kid—carrying it like a queen. I’d want that, if you didn’t have all this.” He nodded at the slides, her empire glowing behind her. “Your ambition’s too big for it now—hell, you’d have done IVF already if it wasn’t. I’m just playing smart.”
Her breath caught, his words hitting her harder than she expected—praise wrapped in truth, cutting through her haze. She smirked to cover it, tossing the pill back with a swig from her water bottle. “Smooth talker. You’re still ditching me for four months, though.”
He shrugged, stepping back. “Gotta. Driving gig—long haul. Back before you know it.” He grabbed his jacket, pausing at the door. “Nail that pitch, boss. You don’t need me for it.”
Arjun stepped back after handing her the iPill, his jacket slung over his shoulder, pausing at the conference room door. “Nail that pitch, boss. You don’t need me for it.”
Maya stood there, still naked under the focus light, the projector humming faintly as the slides looped behind her. She swallowed the pill with a swig of water, her chest rising and falling, then smirked. “Wait. Sit.” She nodded at the chair he’d vacated, her voice softer but commanding. He raised an eyebrow but complied, dropping into the seat, his legs spread casually as she walked over, her hips swaying, her pussy still glistening from their earlier chaos.
She perched on the edge of the conference table, legs crossed, the light beam catching her curves. “That room boy this morning,” she said, a wicked glint in her eyes. “I loved him watching us. Got me so fucking thrilled.” She uncrossed her legs, guiding his hand between her thighs, pressing his fingers into her dripping pussy. “Feel that? Just thinking about it gets me this wet. You think I’m a bitch for it? A shameless slut?”
Arjun’s fingers slid through her slickness, his grin slow and steady as he looked up at her. “No, boss. You’re no bitch, no slut. You’re a powerqueen—owning what you want, deserving every damn bit of it. That’s not shameless; it’s strength.”
Her breath hitched, his words stoking the heat in her core. She slid off the table, kneeling between his legs, her hands tugging at his belt. “Call me slut, Arjun,” she murmured, her voice thick with need. “I’m your slut, your dirty little queen, your fucktoy—say it.” Her eyes locked on his, fierce and pleading, as she freed his cock, her intent clear.
He chuckled, low and rough, leaning back. “Alright, my slut. My powerqueen. Whatever you want, boss.”
She knelt there, taking him in, her hands and mouth working him with a hunger that matched her words.
Next Scene: Office Aftermath
Arjun slumped in a corner of Maya’s sleek office, looking like a mango sucked dry—his shirt rumpled, hair mussed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. The late afternoon sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows over the polished desks and glass partitions. He leaned against a filing cabinet, arms crossed, his energy drained from their marathon of sex and her relentless demands. His legs felt like lead, his cock still tingling from her mouth in the conference room, but a faint grin lingered—he’d given her everything she’d wanted, and then some.
Maya, though, was a dynamo. She sat at her desk, radiant and buzzing, her laptop open as she typed furiously, prepping the solar pitch with a focus that belied the hours they’d spent fucking. Her blouse was crisp again, her hair pulled back, but her cheeks glowed with a post-sex flush, her energy electric. She hummed softly, flipping through slides, occasionally barking orders at an assistant over the phone—“Get me the Q3 projections, now!”—her voice sharp and alive. She looked satisfied, unstoppable, like the powerqueen he’d named her, thriving where he faltered.
Arjun watched her, his head tilted, marveling at how she turned their wildness into fuel. Four months loomed ahead—his vague “driving gig” pulling him away tomorrow—but she’d be fine, he knew it. She didn’t need him, not really, though he’d miss the hell out of her fire.
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