10 Chapter 10: Realization

Caren Kobashi's stern gaze was fixed upon us, standing there as she exuded an air of authority.

"Why aren't you working on your tasks?" she inquired sharply, her tone cutting through the room.

This, however, struck me as an odd choice of inquiry, considering the potential shock and outrage she could have expressed. She could have raised queries like, 'Why are you engaged in a sexual encounter?' or, 'What compels you to allow your fluids to escape Rose's intimate core?' or even, 'Have you considered the avalanche of workplace misconduct suits that will inevitably bury you?'

It wasn't a lecture on the potential fallout of workplace misconduct. It was a straightforward question about work performance, a stark reminder that our actions were diverting our focus from our job responsibilities.

The concern was entirely centered around the context — the fact that we were engaging in this private act during work hours.

We find ourselves in a modern society that increasingly embraces casual sexual relationships, where the act of filling Rose with my cum would not typically be met with disdain.

"You've hardly just begun your shift, and here you are, away from your designated workspace, seemingly indulging yourself. I expect one compelling reason immediately for why I shouldn't proceed to document this as a violation," Caren asserts, her tone firm, a blend of accountability and authority.

As I gaze back at Caren, an unusual surge of self-assuredness courses through me. "I've dedicated my utmost to this company, and I believe that dedication speaks for itself. I don't require constant supervision hovering over me," I express with a sense of conviction. "My performance metrics are consistently impressive, and I shouldn't be subject to scrutiny over every move I make."

My words reflect not only a desire for autonomy but also a fundamental belief in the value I bring to the organization. I've invested my time and energy, and the results speak volumes.

The need for trust in my judgment, given my track record, becomes evident. I acknowledge the necessity of accountability, but I also advocate for recognizing the contributions and the commitment that have led to the achievements I've consistently delivered.

A subtle transformation sweeps across Caren's countenance, a softening that replaces her initial sternness.

"Ah, yes, I understand," she concedes, acknowledging my explanation, even if it's the kind of rationale that would likely crumble in the unforgiving realm of corporate protocol.

"You've proven to be an exceptional employee, and I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," she continues, her words carrying a note of approval.

She turns away briefly, strolling down the aisle, leaving me to grapple with the realization that somehow, against the odds, my explanation has managed to penetrate her usually unyielding demeanor.

In that moment, I recognize the value of being a standout employee, of having earned a reputation that affords me this one indulgence.

Caren's response underscores the importance of cultivating professional relationships, of demonstrating reliability, and how even in the strict confines of the corporate world, individual rapport can sway decisions in your favor.

"I told you!" Christine exclaimed with contagious excitement, her words infused with an almost triumphant air.

"Your influence is undeniable; people are willing to accept whatever you say. Your boss won't be hounding you anymore." She expertly maneuvers into a position behind Rose, her fingers exploring the aftermath of our intimacy, extracting some of my cum, which she deftly transfers to her awaiting palm, savoring the taste of my cum with an indulgent moan before she stands back up.

"It's incredible how everything you do has a ripple effect, aligning the world to your desires," Christine emphasizes, her confidence resonating in her words. "Remember, you hold the power to shape outcomes in your favor, just as I told you."

In this amplified retelling, Christine's words echo with the resonance of a mentor who understands the potential influence we hold over circumstances.

Her actions, albeit bold, highlight a belief in the transformative ability we possess, urging us to embrace this newfound awareness and wield it intentionally.

"I'm surprised to admit it, but I'm starting to see your point," I concede, a newfound understanding dawning upon me.

"Excellent," she responds, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. She takes a step closer, her hand confidently grasping my still-warm and sticky member, executing slow, deliberate strokes that send a shiver of sensation through me.

"Last night, you let that out because you're grappling with some frustrations, and there are other attractive individuals in this vicinity you're eager to fuck, am I correct?" she inquires, her words carrying both a hint of playful curiosity and a sense of understanding.

"Absolutely," I respond with a newfound sense of eagerness, my gaze scanning the aisle, landing on the partially visible cabins that belong to women I've often desired. This opportunity seems to present itself now, more tangible than ever before.

"Then don't hold back. Take advantage of every possibility. Leave your mark on this world," Christine encourages, her words a powerful call to action, a reminder that the world is ripe for the taking, and I deserve to claim my share. It's a moment of empowerment, a realization that the potential for fulfillment is within reach, and I have the right to seize it.

"First, there's something I've been craving since last night—a deep, sloppy face-fucking," she murmurs, her tongue delicately gliding over her lips.

Her eyes widen with anticipation as she intentionally allows her jaw to relax, creating an inviting space for me to take her with the intensity that I desire.

It's a gesture of submission, an offering of herself, a profound form of acceptance that seems oddly distinct in this new world we've entered. It's an aspect that I suspect won't be commonplace anymore, as if Christine and I are the sole inhabitants who truly comprehend the magnitude of the changes taking place, the awareness of the shifts that have occurred.

This is an absolutely insane situation, but strangely not one that I find negative. I firmly grip the back of Christine's head, inhale deeply, and forcefully thrust my entire length down her throat in one powerful stroke, savoring the way her body reacts with a mix of choking and shuddering.

A spark of intense excitement ignites in her eyes as I dominate her tight throat, and I'm aware of the compelling reasons that beckon me to give her the rawest experience possible.

However, I acknowledge that this intense encounter with Christine is a momentary diversion, a fiery encounter that I'm willing to embrace, all before I potentially engage with the other alluring individuals on the fifth floor.


It's about the third time I have facefucked Christine today, and it feels just as good as the first two times; as it turns out, there isn't really any sense of diminishing returns in brutally facefucking a smug blonde into a drooling, gagging mess, as my thick cock hammers away at her so hard that she seems to be getting dizzy and I don't know if her jaw is going to come unhinged from the way I'm taking her, but her throat is certainly having a great time spasming around my cock, her struggles acting like a lurid, satisfying dick massage that helps keep me down there and having my way with her like there's no tomorrow.

"What the fuck lungs do you have that you can stay down this long?" I groan in satisfaction over the sloppy choking noises she makes and the all-out brutality of my treatment of her.

I haven't let her come up for air this time, haven't given her a mid-facefuck break to gather herself, and she's still going strong, her eyes not dimming or fading in a way that would imply she's about to black out or anything, but I've kept her gullet nice and plugged up for quite some time.

It's all rather insane, but I love it far too much to control myself or hold back.

This all happens not in my cabin and with a semblance of privacy, but right in break room.

Quite literally the middle of it too; I stand there with my pants open and my cock buried down her throat, and nobody is reacting to it at all.

People just sit there to eat their shitty micro-waved hot pockets or sip at their drinks, not even disturbed by all the throaty gargling noises Christine is making as she takes my cock all the way down her throat.

With utter nonchalance, everybody goes about their breaks, and that's around the point where I realize I'm really are bulletproof here; nobody is going to do anything to stop me, and I'm free to do whatever I had like to do. They don't even register that someone is getting choked out by a cock in the midst of them.

It's paradise.


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