Pumping for Promotion

Dale Savage drags his employee Seamus O'Reilly into a locked conference room still wearing the leather boots that drive him wild. Seamus tastes salt and sweat on the thick head before he sinks deeper, taking every inch down his throat while Dale watches with the calm of a man who knows he holds the power. Seamus gloves and greases his right hand, then slides it inside his boss until the ring of muscle swallows wrist, forearm, and the first thick inches of bicep. Dale groans and kicks his boots up onto the table, demanding more. Seamus works the fist in steady punches, the slick sounds loud in the quiet room. Dale flips onto his back, boots braced wide, and Seamus switches to his left hand so his right can stroke the big cock that already leaks onto Dale’s shirt. Every thrust draws another grunt; every slurp pulls the shaft harder. Dale begs for deeper, for rougher. Seamus alternates fists, twisting inside the wrecked hole, and makes his terms clear: promotion, raise, paid vacation. Only when Dale agrees does Seamus drive in to the elbow and keep sucking until the older man shoots hard, thick ropes splattering his own chest, the fist still lodged deep and pulsing inside him.