Forced Office Romance or Nights with the Enemy
The boss arrived, ordered the secretary to prepare coffee, and went to his office. When Inga entered the office with a tray, the director, giving her a strangely attentive look, invited her to his monitor. "Well, here it is, a dream come true, problems have arrived, damn documents..." – with these thoughts, the girl approached the director. A film was playing on the screen, which at first seemed to Inga to be, even, it seemed, pornography. "Why are you showing me..?" – "Look closer," the director interrupted her, "am I the only one seeing this?"
Not understanding, afraid to believe, Inga painfully stared at what she herself had immediately discerned. In the video, several guys, their faces blurred, were fucking her, Inga, in an unclear location, on a bed and on the floor. The video was amateur, the camera shook slightly, but the visibility was good. For some time, the girl and the man stared dumbly at the screen, then tears began to flow from Inga's eyes and she staggered. The director sat her on the sofa, brought water, the girl choked and coughed. A question was in the man's gaze. Inga shook her head and tried to explain incoherently that she had absolutely nothing to do with what was happening on the screen... that it was some kind of mistake, that it wasn't her. He turned the monitor towards her: "Not you?.. But it looks like you. It doesn't look like rape... Look, are you resisting? Are you sure you don't enjoy such games?..." In the video, Inga spread her slender long legs and, laughing, gracefully sat down on the erect cock of a guy sitting on a chair, two others were holding her hands, then she bounced on him, holding the cocks of those two standing on the sides. She was laughing and saying something. Inga closed her eyes. "Where did you get this?" – "It came by email just now." – "And to me?" The director went to the reception area, returned looking troubled: "And to you... I deleted it." – "Now it will come home too, and what if to all my acquaintances?.." – tears streamed down her face. "I'll talk to our programmer, ask him confidentially..." – "Everyone will find out, what should I do?" – she sobbed. "I'll try to help. Pull yourself together, calm down. Go to work."
Slightly calmed but unable to dispel anxious thoughts and doubts, the girl sat in the reception area. Half an hour before the end of the workday, the boss called Inga, told her to get ready and go to the parking lot. "A business meeting," he explained briefly. There was nothing unusual about this; it was part of the job. They drove, the boss joked with the girl, she tried to smile. He asked again if she remembered anything about the recording, and she again answered negatively. They drove up to a store, entered the lingerie department. "Treat yourself, choose something sexy, it will lift your mood." – "?" "Try it on, I want to cheer you up, isn't that the best way for you girls?" – he nudged her towards the salesperson. After half an hour of choosing, in which he also participated, they headed to the meeting.
A hotel, a room, ordering alcohol and fruit – everything as usual for a business date. Suddenly, the boss looked intently at his employee, and she felt uneasy from a bad premonition. "Sit down, listen to me, you've gotten into an unpleasant situation, it happens to anyone, don't interrupt, I helped you and will help more, but you must understand..." Inga couldn't believe her ears: the not-so-young, married, with adult children, and not at all spry boss was offering her to repay her gratitude in a simple but pleasant way for him. And Inga would get used to it, she might even like it, since he is understanding, gentle, and doesn't demand much, right? After all, these are her words, that she is ready for anything, grateful. Just no need to cry again, time is short, they are not free people, they are expected. Let her wash in the shower, put on something erotic from the purchases, and he will wait for her.
Inga pulled herself together for a few minutes in the shower, crying under the streams. She was beginning to suspect a scam orchestrated by the boss, but she couldn't prove anything, nor could she do anything. Try to refuse, but what about the video? He has it, as leverage against her, eternal leverage. The man called her and she came out resignedly. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed, leaning back. He told her to walk and turn around, to bend over in the short, transparent tunic. Inga followed orders as if in a dream, slowly, like a robot. The boss's phone rang, he apologized and answered. During the 2-4 minute break, standing naked before the hated bed and the no less unpleasant lover, Inga finally calmed down and came to a decision: to let go of the situation and accept it as inevitable. She has no grief, no, because there is nothing more contagious than conscious unhappiness. She does not want to be depressed forever, because she will only age and become uglier from it, go crazy from constant oppressive thoughts. She is young, strong, and resilient, she does not want to lose heart over a temporary, very unpleasant situation, she is alive and wants to live on. She wants to be happy, no matter what. And most importantly, she longs to get to the truth. She is a strong girl, and she will succeed in everything, and this temporary, no doubt, role of a whore, well, she will play it, negative experience is also experience – so, in the spirit of modern psychology and pulp fiction, decided the unfortunate newly minted "prostitute."
She suggested having a drink, mainly to finally calm down. Pouring two glasses of champagne, she gracefully sat down next to him. After a toast, he kissed her sloppily, and she responded. In her head, only the thought of a condom was pounding, but for now she didn't dare remind him, leaving it to him and deciding to take a risk (deep down she hoped for the best). He looked at her with satisfaction, praised her for being sensible, and reached for her. Placing her stomach on his chest and her face on his stomach, he stroked her butt, pulled her towards his face, and spread her labia with his fingers. Not expecting to start for the first time with cunnilingus, Inga prepared herself, persuading herself to calm down. He kneaded and massaged her vagina for a long time, then inserted several fingers, moving along the walls. When the girl tensed and moaned from the strong pressure, he slapped her on the butt and perineum. She arched her back, sticking out her rear to reduce the unpleasant sensations. Finally, he pressed his lips to her pussy and began smacking loudly. Then, pulling away for a moment, he commanded... a slap... Inga encircled the small, flaccid penis with her hand and moved her fingers. The penis tensed slightly. Another command, a slap, and she kisses it, licks the head, shaft, and base, licks it all over. Then she takes it into her mouth, sucks, works it with her tongue, sucks, taking it deep into herself. He gives commands on how to do it, how to do it better, how he wants it. Firmly gripping the male organ, the girl moved her head fast, then slow. He moaned with pleasure, intensifying the simultaneous movements of her tongue, lips, and hands. A fire started below for the girl; from unbearable sensations of pain and sweetness simultaneously, she thrashed in his grasping hands, lips, wanting release, she pressed closer to his persistent, skillful mouth, he did not pull away from her clitoris, nibbled it and pinched it with two fingers. She begs and asks for mercy, he demands with satisfaction that she repeat what she wants, and ask him for it. She endlessly screams how good it is for her, yes – yes – yes – ah – ah... Exhausted, she rolls off him and catches her breath. Smiling, he strokes her perineum, squeezing slightly. With his hand, he arouses his large, thick, erect penis. Giving her half a minute to rest, he places a pillow under her head, sits on her chest, puts his penis in her mouth, and holding the back of her head, fucks her. "Come on, try harder, lips tighter, deeper, more..." – commands pour out non-stop, she gasps, calms down, breathes through her nose. "Where will he finish? In the mouth? On the chest? In the pussy?" – she prepares for any outcome. He tilts her head back, his penis deep in her throat, even deeper, Inga feels like she's about to vomit. He throbbed inside her, a salty liquid flowed into her throat, some remained in her mouth, some she swallowed. She didn't vomit, it was disgusting.
He sat on her, caught his breath, lay down next to her. Sent her to the shower, telling her to clean everything off. Inga smirked but found a syringe and potassium permanganate on the sink. While she was standing under the shower, he came in, relieved himself without embarrassment, watched her, got into the stall, told her to wash him. Inga scrubbed him with a sponge, and he groped her. Then, thoroughly sucking on her lips and tongue, he said the business wasn't finished, led her to get dressed. He asked how she protected herself given her love for group sex. Swallowing the insult, she mentioned a condom. "I thought so, we'll take care of that now, I already called." – "And you..?" – "And don't hope, condoms aren't for me."
They were already approaching the car. Parking near a private clinic, they went inside, at the reception they were directed to an office. Leaving her at the door, he went in, a minute later a nurse led her to the operating room. They took a rapid test and inserted an IUD. She didn't ask questions, for the first time agreeing with him in her heart, accepting it as care for herself. Soon she was home. Before she left, he asked how her evening was. "Everything was wonderful!" – "I knew you'd like it, I can't promise group sex soon, but for now... Be patient," – and he laughed heartily. Inga didn't allow herself to get upset, smiled, and slammed the car door.