The Secretary

Jill's trembling fingers clutch the note as she kneels before your desk, her glossy lips parted in desperate invitation while her tongue traces the folded edge of paper. You watch her crawl across the polished mahogany, stilettos clicking rhythmically as she positions herself exactly where you've commanded, the thin fabric of her skirt riding up to reveal the absence of any barrier beneath. Her breath catches when your hand grips her hip, pulling her back against you while she gasps your title like a prayer, every thrust driving her higher across the desk until the VR porn fantasy she's been begging for consumes you both completely. She shudders violently as you claim her, mascara-streaked cheeks pressed to the scattered papers while her body clenches and releases around you in waves of submission.