Novel & Cerita Over The Desk

This was going to be the best day. “What is that for?” Deanna asked. “Oh, sweetheart, I think today is just going to be great,” Max said as he made his way through the building to the stairs and down to the basement. He unlocked his door and sat down at his desk and looked around. “I have office hours until eleven. I don’t know if anyone will come in, but I do have to warn you. “That you have a female or two that will come in to ask if you want something from them for a trade?” Deanna asked, and his eyebrows shot up.

The sound of it closing echoed through the room, both their breathing loud in the space. His desk sat in the center of the room, massive and mahogany and covered in neat stacks of papers. Reports and contracts, most likely. I hadn't snooped in this room before. I'd opened the door once, seen it was an office, and hadn't gone any farther. "Turn around," he said, his voice dark and rough as he worked at his belt. The leather slid free with a hiss that made my thighs clench. "Bend over the desk."

Chapter 2: I Worked Late With a Vibrator Buzzing Inside Me While My Boss Fingered Me Over My Desk… Until My Rival Walked In The executive wing is eerily quiet after seven. Most of the overhead lights are off, leaving only the soft glow of my monitor and the city skyline sparkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I’m alone at my desk — or at least I’m supposed to be.

He came out and held the door half-way open for me. I went in and shut the metal door of the overheated computer office. It was warm and long and had small square windows on both sides. A well-scratched wooden desk was set far back. I walked to the desk rather decisively. I looked at the man sitting behind the desk, in front of two bulky, old-fashioned terminals.

He should have been the one with his back on the table and I would have let him do anything to me, I swear! I can't be under him. I can't be in his bed. Anywhere else, against a wall...on air...tree... Anywhere but his bed, any damn position but me under!! I smack my head and head straight into my office. I toss the files on my desk and drop into my chair. I draw up my curtains and fix a quick coffee for myself turning my chair to face the window and watch the view even if it's not as breathtaking from Desmond's office. When I'm done, I drop the mug aside and stretch my hands with the volume of offers we've received from the discount sales I believe the next week is going to require me worki

The line rings briefly before he picks up. "Hello?" he answers, his tone surprisingly light. "How’s the wedding planning coming along?" "Well, it’s coming along great, seeing as you only left me five minutes ago." I joke, but then I get straight to the point. "Is everything okay over there?" "Yeah, everything’s fine. Why? What's up?" "I just wanted to talk to you... about the desk," I say, letting the words linger. “What about it? Is there something wrong with the new one?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

DANTE’S POV I sat at my desk, my fingers drumming against the polished mahogany surface, but the movements were mechanical. My office was a reflection of everything I had built—expensive, imposing, and meticulously curated. The floors were black marble, sleek and smooth, a stark contrast to the rich, leather furnishings. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city below, a sprawling skyline that I had conquered, piece by piece. A large desk sat in the center, stacked with papers, some awaiting my signature, others waiting to be shredded. On the far side, a shelf full of rare books and a handful of prestigious awards stood proudly. Everything w

Chapter 2: Under the Desk I arrived at the office at six-fifty, my palms sweaty as I rode the elevator up to the executive floor. The building was still quiet, only the janitor's cart echoing faintly in the halls. Last night's encounter with Ms. Voss replayed in my mind—her heels on my tongue, her fingers stretching me open, the strap-on pounding into my ass until I came across her desk. I'd jerked off twice when I got home, but it hadn't satisfied the ache she left in me. Total obedience. That's what she demanded, and I was already hooked.

Deborah’s office was bathed in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The golden rays caught the edges of the mahogany desk and highlighted the neat stacks of documents, folders, and reports that she had been meticulously reviewing. She was completely immersed in her work, her mind racing with numbers, contracts, and upcoming projects. Her high heels rested comfortably under the desk, one ankle crossed over the other, and a delicate glass of iced tea sat within reach, beads of condensation running down its side.

She can't know everything, not about Derek, not about me. I gather my belongings with deliberate movements, placing my laptop in my briefcase alongside the secure drive. My office appears undisturbed, a testament to my careful work through the night. Anyone entering would see nothing unusual—just the organized space of a senior partner, the controlled environment I've always maintained.