My skirt hiked up, my panties soaked, I’m bent over his desk, my husband’s voice on speaker, begging for mercy as my boss’s cock slams into me. ‘Call your husband,’ he growls, ‘I’m not done with you, yet!’ My body trembles, my mind races, and I know I’m his slut, his plaything, his to use and abuse. The phone crackles with my husband’s desperate pleas, but I’m lost in the moment, in the raw, animalistic fucking, in the power my boss wields over me. I’m his, completely and utterly, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

