“Okay, everyone, unless there’s anything else, I can give you all three minutes back.” 11:57. Did the plant director really just insinuate that three fucking minutes is a big bonus to ease the pain of another hour-long conference call that should have been an IM link to a shared PDF?

Trey Greaves excitedly moves his mouse pointer over the phone icon, ready to click to disconnect and rip his headset off, after hearing the product development and resourcing teams fumble through spreadsheets he just knows that someone’s Copilot prompts generated after their morning coffee break.

“Um, well…” Oh, shit. Preston’s head pops into the main window, way too close to the camera, as usual.

“Fuck me! Mother fuck,” Trey mutters, tight-lipped. He checks his microphone. Still muted, thank goodness, but he still cusses out his colleague under his breath.

Preston drones on, with too many “umm”s and “ahh”s, about the pricing structure alterations Kevon presented forty-five fucking minutes ago. Trey considers “accidentally” disconnecting, but retains his fake-attentive face for the camera.

11:59. “But, but, but, but…“ Preston is totally oblivious to the fact that all other participants are eager to drop this call and move on to something productive. Like real work, or lunch. His questions and “insights” are dodged, even by the once-enthusiastic meeting organizer.

“Umm, well, I suggest we set up another call, maybe thirty minutes, to get alignment on...“ The words turn to gibberish to Trey’s ears, replaced by the groans and curses he swears he can hear even though those who haven’t already dropped have their microphones muted. His peripheral vision has caught a shadowy figure passing by and lurking at the door to his home office. His wife, Marcie.

Trey’s hybrid work schedule has him working from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Marcie works retail, so she frequently has off days during the week; this is one of a couple days per month that they are home together. She took the dog to the vet first thing this morning, so they didn’t have time for the morning sex their suggestive gropes and quips got them geared up for. Trey had a hard-on pretty much all morning since one of her quips included the word “nooner”, at least until the last hour’s boner-killer of a video conference. Now that it’s — fuck, 12:02! — his wife’s words, “don’t keep me waiting”, loom ominously.

Even though the project manager, Karolina, has a luscious mane of shiny dark hair, smoky exotic eyes, a dimple-y bright smile, and a set of prominent D-cups, welcome eye candy on his weekly calls, Trey knows what he has at home. He’s read enough dirty sex stories about neglected housewives that he has made it a goal never to prioritize work over wife, lest one of his creepy neighbors swoops in and fills Marcie’s needs.

12:03. “Okay, bye.” Trey waits halfway through the director’s wrap-up before jumping off the call. He may have forgotten to un-mute, but who gives a fuck at this point.

Trey’s eyes are suddenly covered by some scratchy but delicate fabric. His head is pulled back as he hears Marcie’s impatient voice and feels her wet breath and tongue on his neck.

“You’re on break now, Mr. Greaves.” She pulls his chair aside and plonks her ass on the desk. Her ass is naked, as is everything else, save for a simple pendant necklace and stud earrings. That was her lacy bra she just accosted him with. As she hangs it on his monitor, he’s glad he doesn’t see the little glow of his camera light. "Those fuckers cut three minutes into our nooner time!"

"You have my undivided attention, Mrs. Greaves!"

“Good. I don’t like your attention being divided,” she reprimands. “You already missed the first part. I had to start without you.”

“Oh?”

“My pussy was needy.” She offers her hand palm down, fragrant fingers wiggling under his nose. “Here, smell.”

“Oh, fuck, Mrs. Greaves!” He inhales deeply, gathering the scent of her arousal. “And a taste?”

“If you promise not to be late for our further noon meetings.”

“Promise.” Trey sucks in one finger, then the next, then the next. “Work-life balance, you know.” His tongue slithers between her fingers, licking up the flavor of her subtle wetness.

“Work-wife balance.” She leans down to share a deep open-mouthed kiss with her husband. “Emphasis on the wife.” His mouth tastes like pussy now. She hums her delight.

“I’m about to put more than emphasis on you!” Trey looks back and forth between his monitor and the door. “I hope you were out of sight when you, um, started.”

She shrugs. “I think so.”

Trey scoots his chair forward, leaning into Marcie’s naked body, kissing and licking up her toned torso. She bunches his shirt up on his back and shoulders, pulling it off when he releases for a moment. He stands, not even having to offer the bulge in the front of his shorts to her before her hands are groping.

“Fuck, Trey, you’re chubbing already?” The button pops open and the zipper comes down under her needy fingers.

“Been looking forward to this since this morning.”

“Oh, so it’s not because of that brunette with the big tits on your call?”

“This blonde’s perky tits are the only ones for me!” Trey sucks a nipple into his mouth, not gently.

“Good answer.” She leans back, reveling in the attention he’s lavishing on her little titties, his tongue wetting each as he moves back and forth between them. He may have fantasized about sampling Karolina’s generous assets before, but his mind is focused on his naked wife right now, in front of him, in the flesh.

One thing Trey likes about working from home is just being able to wear a polo shirt to look professional on camera when he needs to, but just shorts without shoes and socks below. Handy now, as all he needs to do is kick his shorts and boxers aside as soon as Marcie drops them to his ankles in order to stand naked before her.

Between kisses, Marcie drools a couple of strings of spit onto her fingers and her husband’s cock, pulling it to a full erection in short order.

“Mmm, you trimmed?” Trey asks, feeling the glorious sensation of her soft, bristly pubes under the head of his dick as he rubs it on her mons. She’s sporting more of a patch than a tuft today.

“M-hmm,” she coos, trying to poke herself in the clit with his tip. “That’s what I love about you — you notice the little things.”

“I’m just so intimately familiar with it.” The pokes and prods move lower. Her puffy, damp labia part as his cock head enters. He watches, but she throws her head back, as he drives his shaft in to the hilt. “Ohh, yes, fuck,” he moans.

“As you wish!” She looks into his eyes, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him in deep.

Pulling out and pushing in, he begins a slow, deep rhythm, kissing, caressing, reveling in the experience of passionate sex on the desk in his home office. Marcie humps her hips to stimulate their sex, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull their bodies tightly together.

After just a couple of minutes, Trey pulls out. Experience tells Marcie that he’s about to cum, but wants to last. Another thing she loves about him.

“Sit,” she says in her bossy voice. When he complies, she climbs on him in the chair, sliding down the pillar of his cock, and starts to ride him. He leans back, enjoying his wife’s warm, naked body slithering against him, her perky nipples scraping against his chest as her pussy squeezes his dick.

When Marcie climbs off and turns around to ride him backwards, it only takes a couple of minutes before he gets to his feet, giving her a steady standing fuck from behind. He rams into her, their breathing ragged, as she bends over the desk. Filling her with thrust after thrust, his hands slide around and cup her firm little tits, squeezing the flesh and pulling the hardened nipples.

Whatever it is that gets swiped off and clatters to the floor, neither of them cares. They are on the verge of ecstasy, his fingers digging at her clit while his hips pound into her jiggling ass.

“Mmm, give it to me, fuck!” Marcie demands with pants and groans.

“My pleasure!” Holding her hair, but not yanking, he gives her ass a few playful slaps before nuzzling up to her ear. “Uh, here it is! Uh, take it!”

“Uh! Yes! Fuck, there it is!” Marcie mashes her clit as she enjoys her husband’s vigorous dicking.

Trey’s balls tighten up, but he doesn’t want to release quite yet. In the midst of their next bout of kisses and gropes when he pulls out, he lifts her and dumps her clumsily onto the desk again. Masturbating lewdly with her legs spread wide to show her glistening pink insides, she urges him back inside.

“Fuck, Marcie, you did get yourself started, didn’t you?” He resumes their frisky fuck, plunging into her with full, deep, powerful insertions. He captures each perky little bouncing tit with his clenching fingers, one after the other, as he drills her, until she scoots up closer. Their fervor increases as she whimpers and squeals, wrapping her arms and legs around him, grinding her body into his.

Neither knows whose orgasm comes first, but it doesn’t matter. They keep huffing and moaning and pumping and shuddering while their fuck goes on, sloppy and slimy now, his flood of ejaculate enabling those squishy sounds that often accompany their sexual satisfaction. Trey makes it a point to keep his dick lodged inside her, slowing but continuing the motion of his hips, prolonging the connection.

Cum drains from her dilated hole when he withdraws his floppy dick, pooling on the desk. Catching some on her fingers from under his dripping balls, she smears a glob or two on his nipples and her own.

Trey slumps back in the chair, oblivious that the mess they made is staining the fabric. Marcie climbs on him, her slightly sweaty bare body pressed into his for a warm, sticky cuddle.

“I think we should schedule these meetings more often,” Trey said after a few minutes.

“I think I’m off again Thursday after next.”

“Same time, then?”

“Yeah, but you kept me waiting, remember?”

“Ugh, sorry.”

“Next time, tell those other fuckers you have a hard stop at twelve o’clock, okay?”