My subordinate

I sat in my office, nervously tapping my pen on the desk. It was already getting dark outside, the office was empty, and only the quiet hum of the air conditioner broke the silence. Sergey, my assistant, was late again. And not by five, not ten minutes—a whole hour. This young brat had apparently completely forgotten who was in charge here. Finally, the door quietly opened, and his guilty face appeared in the doorway. "Come in, Sergei," I said in an icy tone, without raising my head. "Have a seat." He slid inside like a kicked puppy and sat down on the chair opposite my desk. I slowly looked up. His blond hair was tousled, his cheeks slightly flushed—whether from running so fast or from embarrassment. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the top button undone. He was clearly nervous, fiddling with his car keys. "What should I do with you?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. “Irina Viktorovna, I really overslept,” he began to babble, but I interrupted him with a wave of my hand. "I don't care about your excuses. You knew we had an important project. I waited for you for an hour. An hour, Sergey. Do you understand that this is disrespectful?" He lowered his head, and I noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. Interesting. A thought suddenly flashed through my mind, completely unrelated to work. He really is handsome. Young, twenty-five, with clear green eyes and strong shoulders. I'd long noticed the way he glanced at me in the office when he thought I wasn't looking. And now, in this dim light, his nervousness was almost palpable. “Get up,” I ordered. Sergei obediently stood up. I also rose from the table and slowly approached him. My heels clicked loudly on the parquet floor, and I saw his gaze constantly drop to my feet, then rise higher, to my thighs, tightly clad in my black skirt. "Do you know we have penalties for being late?" I asked quietly, stopping half a step away from him. “Irina Viktorovna, I’m ready to work,” he exhaled. "Work it off?" I chuckled. "That's a good word." I took another step and found myself right next to him. He smelled of a strong, men's cologne. I reached out and ran my finger down his chest, from his collarbone down, across the fabric of his shirt. He froze, as if afraid to move. "Since you overslept," I whispered, leaning toward his ear, "you'll do what I say. Got it?" “Yes,” he breathed out. “Okay,” I smiled and walked to the door, clicking the lock. Turning around, I leaned my elbows on the edge of the table, letting my skirt ride up just above my knee. Sergey kept his eyes on me. “First, take off your clothes,” I commanded. His fingers trembled as he began to unbutton his shirt. One button, two, three... I watched him with pleasure. Finally, the shirt fell to the floor, revealing his sculpted torso. A toned body, without a single excess crease, with a trail of dark hair disappearing under the belt of his trousers. “Pants,” I said briefly. He hesitated for a moment, but under my watchful gaze, he unbuckled his belt and removed his pants. Beneath them were gray boxers, already visibly aroused. His flesh pressed against the fabric, and I felt my own body respond with heat in my lower abdomen. "You see," I said, slowly circling him, "you want me. And I want you to understand: being late is unacceptable." I stopped behind him and placed my palms on his shoulders. His skin was hot. I ran my nails down his spine, and Sergei shuddered. “I want you to get on your knees,” I said to his back. He lowered himself. I returned to him, stood opposite him, and, looking down, unzipped her skirt. The black fabric slid to the floor. Underneath, there was only a pair of thin, black lace panties, already quite wet from my arousal. I saw Sergei looking at me, his chest heaving with his heavy breathing. "Lick me," I said, lifting his chin with my finger. "And do it properly. Maybe then your punishment won't be so harsh." He didn't make me ask twice. His hands gripped my hips, and I felt his hot tongue through the lace. I threw my head back and moaned, running my fingers through his hair. He licked me through the fabric, teasing me until I pulled my panties aside, giving him access. His tongue slid over my wet folds, up to my swollen clit, and I almost cried out with pleasure. He caressed me greedily, but at the same time with a kind of youthful diligence, as if he wanted to earn forgiveness. My legs began to tremble. I pressed his head closer to me, impaling myself on his mouth. He inserted two fingers into me, and I bit my lip, holding back a moan. "Faster," I whispered, feeling the orgasm building inside me. "Yes, yes, just like that..." The wave washed over me suddenly, making my legs buckle. I grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling. Sergey didn't pull away, continuing to caress me with his tongue until I pushed him away. “Now come here,” I breathed, lifting him to his feet. I turned my back and leaned against the table. Sergei understood without words. I heard him throw off his boxers, and a moment later I felt his hot flesh at my entrance. He entered slowly, filling me to the brim. I gasped. “This is the only way to make amends,” I whispered, leaning back. He began to move, slowly at first, then faster. His fingers dug into my hips, and I heard his ragged breathing in my ear. My breast burst from my bra, and he immediately cupped it in his hand, squeezing my nipple. I moaned loudly, no longer caring if anyone could hear us. The office was empty, and these walls now belonged only to us. I felt his cock stretch me from the inside, filling every cell of my being. He was hard, hot, pulsating, and each thrust sent a wave of intense pleasure through me. My hands braced themselves against the cold surface of the table, my chest heaved, and my hips bucked to meet his movements. “Deeper,” I moaned, feeling his flesh slide along my wet walls. Sergei complied. He gripped my waist tighter and thrust all the way to the base, so I could feel his balls against my crotch. This deep, satisfying contact wrung a loud moan from my chest. Everything inside me was on fire, every vein taut with tension and anticipation. His thrusts became rhythmic, powerful, primal, and I felt his cock rubbing against that very sensitive spot inside me. My skirt had ridden up to my waist, my panties had slipped to the side, and now nothing was stopping him from plunging into me again and again. His hand was still cupping my breast, his fingers tugging at my hardened nipple, sending electric shocks straight to my lower abdomen. His other hand slid down and found my clit. As soon as he touched it, I cried out, arching my back. The double stimulation was driving me crazy—his cock inside and his fingers outside, caressing me in time with his every movement. I heard the wet sounds of our bodies colliding in a frantic rhythm. His skin slapped against mine, his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. He leaned down and ran his tongue down my neck, nipping at my earlobe. The gesture completely stripped me of any remaining control. “Don’t stop,” I breathed out, “I want to cum on your cock.” His thrusts quickened. He pounded into me with such passion that the table began to creak rhythmically, and my moans echoed off the walls of the office. I felt the knot tightening in my lower abdomen, my muscles involuntarily clenching around his flesh. He felt it too. “You’re so tight,” he croaked, “so wet... You’re leaking all over my balls...” Those words were the last straw. The orgasm hit me suddenly, blindingly, causing my body to convulse. I screamed, squeezing his cock from the inside so hard that he momentarily stopped breathing. But he didn't stop, continuing to pound me through the peak of ecstasy, prolonging my pleasure until my knees trembled. I felt hot juices trickle down my thighs, my flesh pulsating around him. Sergei only sped up, and each thrust brought fresh moans from me, almost powerless now, but full of satisfaction. "More," I whispered, feeling another orgasm creeping up on me. "More, Sergey..." His movements became more abrupt, almost animalistic. He pounded into me again and again until I felt his entire body tense. But I wanted him to continue, I wanted to feel him to the very end, to absorb every drop of his passion. And only when he let out a drawn-out groan and spilled into me with heated thrusts did I allow myself to relax completely, sinking onto the table in exhaustion. My body was still shaking, everything inside me was burning and pulsing. I lay there, eyes closed, feeling his seed slowly flowing out of me, his breathing becoming even. The room filled with the scent of our sex, and it was intoxicating. I chuckled to myself: it seemed this punishment had done us both good. We froze for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he pulled away, and I adjusted my skirt and turned to face him. He looked embarrassed, but pleased. "Remember this lesson, Sergei," I said, straightening my blouse. "And next time you decide to oversleep, think about how you'll make up for it." He smiled. - Maybe I should be late more often, Irina Viktorovna? I chuckled. - Now that will depend on your behavior. With these words, I took the folder from the table and, casting a meaningful glance at him, headed for the exit.