When I surprise you at work, you always fight me a little.
"What if someone hears me," you smirk. "I’ll get in trouble."
"You’re already in fucking trouble," I tell you. "I can tell you’re wet already."
"No, I’m not," you insist, pushing me away.
And then I rip off your shirt and push my hand down your skirt and check for myself.
"Lying little cunt," I say as I kiss you. "Now I’m going to have to fuck you extra hard. So hard your boss will hear you. I’m going to fuck you out of employment and you’re going to love every minute of it. You’re going to have to get a job as my personal little whore by the time I’m done with you."
And all you can do is moan into my mouth, knowing that I’ve broken your spirit yet again. You mentally prepare yourself to get fucked and used.