CHAPTER 3: INTERVIEW WITH MY FATHER’S BOSS III

Jason’s voice cut through the heavy silence first. “The interview’s over, Lia. You can leave.”

He said it in a very serious voice. His still gripped his desk, his eyes not leaving her.

Lia swallowed. She pulled her fingers free from between her legs with a soft, wet sound that made her

wince. Her cum coated her hand, shiny and thick, dripping down the inside of her wrist. She wiped it

hastily on the edge of her skirt, then tugged the fabric down over her thighs. Her legs felt like jelly.

When she pushed up from the chair, her knees buckled for a second. She caught herself on the

armrest, breath hitching.

She reached for her bag on the floor beside the chair, her fingers shook so badly the strap slipped

twice before she could grip it. She straightened, bag clutched to her chest like a shield, and took one

trembling step toward the door.

“Fuck it,” Jason muttered under his breath.

The chair scraped back, and in two strides he was behind her. His hands going around her hips and he

yanked her back against him.

Her ass collided with the front of his slacks and she felt him instantly, his thick, rigid length pressing

into her ass cheeks. He was bigger than she’d pictured in all those late-night fantasies.

Lia gasped.

Her bag dropped to the carpet with a dull thud. She braced her palms flat on the glass desk in front of

her, elbows locking to keep from collapsing forward. Jason’s chest pressed to her back, solid muscle

and the faint scratch of his shirt against her shoulder blades. His breath was hot on the side of her

neck.

“You think you can just walk out after that?” he growled low against her ear. His right hand slid up,

cupping her left breast through the blouse. With no bra, there was nothing to dull the sensation as his

palm closed over the swollen mound, thumb brushing once across her nipple. It was already painfully

hard; the rough drag of cotton over the tight peak made her whimper.

“You’ve been dripping for me since you sat down,” he continued, voice rough. “Fingering that tight

little cunt right in front of me like a needy slut. You wanted me to see. Wanted me to smell how wet

you were. Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. Her hips rocked back instinctively, grinding her ass against the thick ridge of his

cock. The friction made her clit throb again, still sensitive from her orgasm minutes earlier.

His left hand stayed clamped on her hip, holding her in place while he rolled her nipple between

thumb and forefinger in slow, firm tugs that sent jolts straight to her core. “I’m going to teach you

what happens when you interrupt a fucking interview, Lia. You’re going to learn to be a good girl for

me.”

She nodded fast, hair falling into her face. “Please,” she whispered. “Touch me. Please, Jason.”

He didn’t make her beg twice. His right hand left her breast and slid down the front of her body over

the wrinkled blouse, until his palm covered her mound through the soaked lace panties. The fabric

was drenched, clinging to her swollen lips.

He pressed the heel of his hand against her clit and rubbed once, hard. Lia’s knees buckled as she

moaned loud enough that it echoed off the glass walls.

“You are so fucking wet,” he muttered. “Even after you came all over your own fingers.” He hooked

two fingers under the edge of her panties and pulled them aside.

Cool air hit her overheated flesh, then his bare hand covered her. Two thick fingers slid along her slit,

parting her, gathering the fluid that still leaked from her entrance. He circled her clit slowly, then

dipped lower and pushed one finger inside her.

Lia’s head fell forward. Her forehead rested on the cool desk. He curled the finger, stroking that

spongy spot inside while his thumb found her clit again and started slow, deliberate circles.

She moaned his name, “Jason, oh, Jason…”

She moaned his name over and over again. Her hips rocked back onto his hand, chasing the pressure.

He added a second finger, scissoring them, stretching her open. Wet sounds filled the room again. Her

thighs trembled and sweat trickled down her spine, pooling at the small of her back.

Then he found it, the spot deeper, higher, that made her gasp and clench hard around his fingers. He

pressed there relentlessly while his thumb ground against her clit in tight, fast circles. Lia’s moans

turned into sharp cries. Her nails scraped the table.

“Come for me again,” he ordered against her ear.

She shattered. Her whole body locked up, her back arching, thighs clamping around his wrist, cunt

pulsing hard around his fingers in long, rhythmic spasms.

Fresh wetness flooded his hand, dripping down his palm, soaking the cuff of his shirt. She sobbed his

name through the aftershocks, legs shaking so badly he had to hold her up with the arm around her

waist.

When the waves finally eased, he pulled his fingers free. She whimpered at the loss. He brought his

hand to his mouth and sucked her juices off in slow, deliberate licks, tasting her. The musky, tangy

flavor coated his tongue. He groaned low in his throat.

“You taste so fucking you,” he grabbed the back of her neck pulling her towards him and trapping her

in a hard punishing kiss, making her taste herself on him.

“On your knees,” he said.

Lia turned slowly, legs still unsteady. She sank down onto the carpet in front of him. She looked up,

his eyes dark and hungry. His hands went to his belt, unbuckling it with quick movements. With his

zipper down, he shoved his slacks and boxers to mid-thigh.

His cock sprang free, looking heavy, veined, flushed dark at the head. Pre-cum beaded at the slit,

glistening. He was thick, thicker than her wrist in places, and long enough that the head nearly

reached his navel. Lia’s mouth watered.

It was thicker and longer than she had imagined while she touched herself.

She hesitated for half a second, doubt running through her mind.

Would it even fit? She thought then she leaned forward.

She wrapped her hand around the base. Her fingers didn’t meet. She licked the underside first, a slow

drag of her tongue from root to tip, tasting salt and musk. Then she opened her mouth and took him

in.

“Fuck, he groaned.

The head stretched her lips wide. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking as she slid down. Halfway she

gagged, her throat fluttering around him, but she didn’t pull back.

Tears pricked her eyes, she breathed through her nose and pushed forward, forcing more of him past

her throat until her nose brushed the coarse hair at his base.

Jason groaned. His hand fisted in her hair, not pulling, just holding. “Good girl, take it all.”

He started to move, slow thrusts at first, letting her adjust, then deeper, faster. Each slide hit the back

of her throat. She gagged again and again, saliva dripping down her chin.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. But between her legs she was soaked, fresh arousal leaking down

her thighs, clit throbbing with every choke and swallow.

She loved it. Loved the stretch of her jaw, the weight on her tongue, the way he filled her mouth

completely. She moaned around him, vibrations making his hips jerk.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growled. “Crying on my cock and still dripping for it.”

His thrusts turned rougher. He held her head steady and fucked her mouth, deep, steady strokes that

made her gag and splutter. Her hands gripped his thighs for balance, nails digging into muscle. Drool

ran in thick strings from the corners of her mouth.

He swelled thicker against her tongue. His breathing turned ragged. “Gonna come,” he warned, voice

strained. “Swallow every drop.”

One last hard thrust, deep enough to block her air and he erupted. Hot, thick spurts coated her tongue,

hit the back of her throat. She swallowed reflexively, gulping down rope after rope while he groaned

above her.

Some leaked from the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her blouse, but she kept sucking, milking

him through it until he shuddered and pulled free with a wet pop.

His cock glistened with her spit and the last traces of his cum. Lia stayed on her knees, chest heaving,

lips swollen and red, chin wet. She looked up at him, eyes glassy, looking utterly wrecked.

Jason stared down at her, breathing hard, hand still tangled in her hair.