The message from Mike was direct and to the point. Come to his office at 10am on Monday. I had been booked in at reception for a meeting to discuss a project that I might help deliver as a contractor, based on my experience in marketing. The building would be almost empty, with most people choosing to work from home. He told me to wear something business-like. But, he had added, make sure it was exciting.

The sickening irony of travelling to my husband’s office whilst Tony worked from home weighed heavily on my mind as I drove. My throat was tight with a feeling of dread and slight queasiness. And yet, butterflies of anticipation danced in my stomach.

Was I imagining the look the receptionist gave me, I wondered frantically as I clutched my pass and made my way up in the lift. Did she know I was, in effect, Mike’s whore. I closed my eyes, shame burning my face.

The walk through the main office, where the office party had been held, triggered memories of my last visit to the building. The butterflies increased and, God help me, I felt myself dampen. One of the few people at their desks looked up and smiled warmly in recognition. I did my best to smile brightly back; the reality was I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.

My heels clacked loudly on the hard wood floor of the corridor, which seemed to extend endlessly in front of me. My heart was in my mouth, my pulse racing, and my stomach a knot of competing emotions.

I knocked softly on the office door. A deep voice instructed me to enter. Closing the door behind me, I leant back against it, almost sick with the relief of making it through the building without drawing attention to myself.

“Business-like and exciting,” Mike nodded approvingly. The crisp white blouse was tight across my boobs. A slim-fitting blue pencil skirt, fastened at the waist with two white buttons and falling above the knee, accentuated the curve of my hips. My long brown hair fell over the shoulders of a blue tailored single-breasted blazer with a notch lapel. Black patent leather 3” heels and sheer black stockings completed the outfit.

“What would make it even more business-like, in the context of this meeting, is if you were to undo a few more buttons on that blouse,” he suggested, with a tilt of his chin towards my chest. Colour rose on my face with the humiliation of being nothing more than an object for his pleasure. Letting out a resigned sigh, I released two more pearl white buttons to reveal the swell of my full breasts, encased in a lace half cup bra.

“Such great tits,” Mike murmured approvingly, his eyes feasting on the exposed olive flesh. “Now, why don’t you get yourself comfortable under the desk whilst I go on this zoom call,” he grinned, leaning back in his chair.

“You want me to…whilst you’re on a call,” I gasped, eyes widening in alarm.

“The thought has been making me hard all morning,” he smirked, pointing under his desk by way of further encouragement, “you on your knees, sucking my cock, whilst I discuss sales results with Tony and the rest of the sales team.”

“Come, come, Claudia; this is all part of our job security strategy,” he grinned, when I made to object, “and in any case, I think we both know how much you enjoyed our last business meeting.” With a defeated look, but also knowing my husband’s boss was right about the mind-blowing orgasm he had taken me to last time, I walked across the office. He nodded with satisfaction and prepared himself for the call.

Sinking onto all fours, I crawled under the glass desk, on which he had pinned me down and fucked me senseless less than a week ago; the image was vivid in my mind, my nipples hardening and the dampness between my legs increasing almost despite myself. Mike spread his legs to accommodate me as I prowled forward.

“Good morning, everyone; thanks for joining the call,” he announced, the screen bright above me. A chorus of voices responded, including my husband’s. My stomach lurched. A hand on the back of my head encouraged me to get to work.

Face burning with humiliation, I placed hands on his knees to steady myself whilst shifting onto my knees, the rug providing a degree of cushioning against the impact of the hard wood floor. With the sound of the zoom call booming out, I slid my hands over his thighs, my fingers pressed lightly into the fabric of his suit trousers, feeling the heat begin to radiate through them as I inched towards his crotch.

The discussion turned to a summary of last month’s position. I shifted slightly, knees pressing into the rug as I adopted a more comfortable stance between his legs. Eyes on the screen and talking with calm authority, Mike reached down and unfastened yet more buttons on my blouse. Making a point on the call, he slid both hands under the lace half cups, pushing the material aside and freeing my pendulous breasts. Continuing to speak, he kneaded the soft olive flesh. I looked up in silence and allowed him to explore my large dark areolae, and deep brown protruding nipples, which continued to harden as he teased them.

Placing his hand back on the computer mouse to move the PowerPoint onto the next slide, my husband’s boss thrust his pelvis slowly forward in a clear statement of intent. His voice loud above me, I reached with slim fingers for the buckle of his belt, which I worked free, slipping the leather through the belt loops. Carefully, I undid the button on the waistband of his suit trousers and eased the zip down; the sound was sharp in a sudden silence on the call.

Mike shifted slightly in his chair, lifting himself to help me ease down his trousers. As I slid a hand inside his boxers, I could feel anticipation surge through him. My heart beating, I reached tentatively for his manhood; my fingers brushed against it before gently freeing him from the confines of the cotton underwear. Hesitating, I examined his cock as if seeing one for the first time. In truth, it had been some considerable time since one had been so close in front of me.

“I am looking forward to seeing rapid growth here, guys,” he asserted, his glance down making it clear this was directed as much to me as his subordinates on the call. Raising an eyebrow at him, I began running a finger along the length of his stirring muscle, tracing over the veins and up over the glans. Dropping my head, I placed the very tip of my tongue on the base of his cock and ran it up the length, which magically hardened to my touch. His voice caught mid-sentence when my tongue brushed tentatively around the ridge of his glans.

I paused, almost mesmerised by the beauty of his rampant hardness. Reaching for it, I pressed fingertips against the tender glans, rolling around it as I examined his manhood. It was so much bigger, so much thicker, and so much more inviting than my husband’s rather inadequate specimen. Placing my palm on the domed crown, I rocked it gently over the sensitive tissue, whilst running a finger down the shaft and across the wrinkled skin of his scrotum.

Feeling the tension in his muscles, and the strain in his voice as he continued with the call, my arousal grew.  Wrapping fingers around the shaft, I felt the warmth and weight of him in my palm. Pressing my wedding ring against the veiny shaft, I began to stroke him, gliding my hand up and down the throbbing length. Watching Mike’s expression change and his chest rise and fall, I moved my other hand down to cup his balls. They were heavy in my hand, and tightened as I rolled them between my fingers.

“It’s crucial we examine this area in detail,” Mike growled, his eyes flicking down to watch me briefly as I leaned in, my lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his sack. Hitting mute, he let out a low groan as I took one of his balls into my mouth and sucked on it gently. His thighs tensed and his cock twitched in my little fist as I alternated between them, my tongue caressing his testes, causing them to tighten inside my mouth.

“You really are full of surprises, Mrs Harris,” he murmured without moving his lips, watching me release his balls from my wet mouth with a plop. Looking up with lust-filled eyes, I inhaled the musk emanating from his heated manhood as I worked it with fluid hand movements. “Now, bring yourself off whilst you suck my dick,” he suggested, acknowledging my needy expression with a brief sly grin, before unmuting his microphone and continuing to analyse the team’s performance.

With trembling hands, I hitched up the hem of my blue pencil skirt. Glancing down, I noticed the large dark patch on my knickers. The ache was almost unbearable, a throbbing need that had grown like a guilty secret from the moment I had left home. Returning one hand to his girth, I thrust the other inside the lace, running a finger through the folds of my labia and relishing the feeling. My mouth parted into a soft moan as I traced circles around my clit, which swelled to my touch.

Tugging at his straining length, I spread my legs wider and slipped two fingers deep into my soaking quim. I whimpered, feeling the inner muscles grip them tightly as I sought out my g-spot with practiced ease. Giving in to my needs, I leant forward slightly and dipped my head, taking his spongy dome between my parted lips. My tongue salty with the taste of his musky pre-cum, I swirled it around the bulky mass filling my mouth. Mike’s hips jerked involuntarily and he winced audibly when the tip slithered over his frenulum.

“You OK, Mike,” I heard my husband ask anxiously. His boss placed a hand on the back of my head, forcing me back down when I lifted, startled by Tony’s voice. Shame briefly flared within me but was swiftly replaced by a sudden jolt of pleasure as my fingertip connected with my g-spot, plunging the two fingers deep into my pussy. Exquisite pressure built inside me, drowning out all sense of remorse.

“All good, mate,” his boss reassured my husband, his hand stroking my hair whilst I took him back in my mouth. “Hard workout and still a bit stiff. I’m sure I can ease that off before too long,” he chuckled with irony lost on Tony, who was blissfully unaware that his wife was on her knees under the desk, lips wrapped around his boss’s domed head, whilst stroking his thick girth with one hand and toying her sopping mound with the other.

The arrogance of the man vied with my own longing in spurring me on. Tongue pressed against the sensitive underside of his glans, I bobbed up and down on his cock, watching his hands grip the edge of the desk and his thighs clenching as he fought to control himself on the call. The movement of my hand, wrapped tight around his shaft, was in unison with that of the fingers buried inside my pussy. My heart was pounding, pelvis grinding, every muscle aching for release.

In the background, I could hear Tony trying to find excuses for his poor performance. His fingers in my hair, encouraging me to take him deeper, Mike refuted each excuse in a dismissive tone. My movements were fast now, an urgency to the deliberately determined way I was working him with my mouth and hand. Simultaneously, I squeezed thigh muscles around my hand, thrusting my hips up to meet it, frantically fucking myself with my own fingers. For reasons I couldn’t and didn’t want to understand, Mike’s derision of Tony tipped me over the edge. Sobs of release muffled by a mouthful of cock, my inner muscles clamped around my fingers as I toyed myself furiously; my whole body shuddered with the pulsing orgasm that was coursing through me.

Slumping back on my heels, the aftershocks subsiding, saliva and pre-cum drooling from my lips, I slowly recovered my breath and eased the fingers sticky with juices from my still throbbing quim.

Wrapping my fingers back around the base of his thick shaft, I looked up at my husband’s boss, parted my lips and sank back down onto his cock. He groaned with satisfaction, his fingers twisting in my long brown hair. He was close now, struggling to control his breathing, his knuckles white with the effort of holding himself back. As I lost myself in pleasuring him with my mouth, I heard Mike closing down the call and asking Tony to stay on the line.

Mike grinned when Tony nervously asked what was wrong. Reaching forward, he angled the camera down so that my husband could see me under the desk. Tony’s wounded howl of anguish cut through the cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck of his wife enthusiastically deep-throating his boss, as he smirked at my husband with a look of lustful satisfaction. Humiliation burnt through me, but my world had closed down to the deeply erotic task of pleasuring the engorged cock in my mouth.

“I just wanted to let you know that Claudia is here, helping me with a liquidity issue,” he explained in a tight voice, pushing his hips forward and forcing himself deeper into my mouth as I bobbed up and down on his throbbing meat. “It is an issue that arose from your repeated failures, Tony, and as you can see, failure has its consequences.”

Mike’s eyes rolled as my lips brushed against the base of the shaft that was buried in my throat. “FYI, Tony,” he groaned, “your wife is seriously good at sucking cock.” I could feel him swelling in my wet mouth, his breathing ragged. One hand clenched on the arm of his office chair, the other on the back of the head, urging me on. Tony had lapsed into stunned silence at the other end of the zoom call.

“If she keeps this up, you’re heading for a bonus, despite not hitting your targets,” he panted, tension building in his tightening stomach and thighs. Responding, I increased the pace with which my lips slid up and down his throbbing meat, my hands pressed against his lap. “In fact, I’m gonna give her a deposit on that now, Tony,” Mike muttered in a strangled voice, lifting his hips from the chair and holding my head with both hands.

“Fuuuck, yes,” he sighed, pulsing streams of salty mess against my tongue. I continued to milk his cock until he was spent and my mouth was flooded with his cum. Slumping back against the chair, he watched me release his glistening manhood. Maintaining eye contact, I swallowed, allowing the slimy residue to slide down my throat and into my stomach.

“Tell you what, Tony: your wife is nailing each KPI I am setting her. If she keeps this up, the future is looking bright for you, mate.”

My husband sat in dejected silence, head in hands and white with shock, knowing his shortcomings had taken us to this place.

“I will text with details of the next project meeting.” His boss winked at me, clicking off the call. He wiped his cock clean on my face before then stuffing it back in his boxers. With a look of resigned acceptance of my fate, I reversed back from under the desk, tidied myself up and left the office.

The journey home was filled with a range of often contradictory emotions. Self-loathing. Humiliation. Pity for my husband; fury at him for putting me in this position. Hatred for his arrogant, manipulative boss; and yet, a growing attraction to him because he was an arrogant, controlling, alpha male. And beneath all of that, disturbingly, a growing, nagging, itch for more.