She spotted him across the bar — tall, broad, dark beard shadowing his jaw, a black T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, jeans riding low on narrow hips.

Their eyes locked —

A jolt, instant and electric.

No smile. No words. Just mutual understanding.

Pure, magnetic hunger.

He pushed away from the bar, and she turned without hesitation, leading him through the crowd without a backward glance.

The hallway behind the bar was dark, the bass thumping through the walls like a second heartbeat. She reached the heavy back-office door, twisted the knob, and stepped inside, the man closing it silently behind them.

The air shifted, dense and electric.

She stood against the door, chest heaving under the curve-hugging red dress. The fabric clung to her breasts — full, natural, heavy — and skimmed the bare skin of her thighs. Underneath, she wore nothing. Heat and slickness clung between her legs, the silk sticking slightly with every frantic breath.

He crossed the small office slowly, every movement filled with deliberate intent. His jeans strained against the thick line of his arousal. His eyes devoured her — the real, mouth-watering weight of her breasts, the flash of thigh, the slight part of her red-painted lips.

When he reached her, he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her.

Hard. Deep. Consuming.

His tongue slid against hers, tasting her moan. His beard scratched deliciously along her flushed skin, leaving her trembling under his touch.

His hands slid down her sides, rough palms finding the bare curve of her hips beneath the dress. He pulled her against him, grinding the hard ridge in his jeans against her pulsing heat. She whimpered into his mouth, her body arching, nipples pebbling sharply against the thin fabric.

Breaking the kiss, he dropped to his knees before her, hiking the dress higher.

The sight of her stole his breath.

Completely bare.

Smooth and shaven.

Wet and glistening.

Her folds parted slightly, flushed deep pink, the scent of her sweet and musky, intoxicating. She shifted her hips, offering herself without shame.

He pressed his mouth against her with a guttural sound, tongue flattening against her swollen folds, dragging upward in a slow, devastating stroke.

She gasped sharply, hands scrambling for purchase against the door.

He licked her with slow, deliberate precision — tasting every inch of her slick, smooth sex. His tongue traced the folds, circled her clit, delved inside her, gathering her flavor on every stroke.

Sliding two fingers into her dripping entrance, he groaned at the way her tight, velvety walls gripped him immediately.

She clenched around his fingers, body twitching helplessly as he fucked her slowly with his hand, tongue flicking relentlessly over her clit.

Wet sounds filled the room — his mouth working her, her soaked flesh sucking hungrily at his fingers, the broken whimpers falling from her lips.

Her thighs quivered against his shoulders.

She came with a high, desperate cry, a hot gush of clear liquid spraying from her. She squirted hard, soaking his face, splattering the desk, dripping onto the floor.

He growled into her folds, drinking her down, stroking her clit until her body jerked helplessly through every aftershock.

When her trembling eased, he rose, his mouth and beard shining with her release.

He freed his cock from his jeans — thick, swollen, the head gleaming with precum.

Without a word, he gathered her breasts in his hands, wrapping the heavy softness around his slick shaft. He began to thrust between them, slow and deliberate.

The head of his cock brushed her chin with each pass. She tipped her face up, letting her tongue flick out to taste him as he slid through her cleavage.

Her hand snaked lower, cupping his balls.

She squeezed gently, rolling the heavy weight in her palm, feeling the tightness there, coaxing him with slow, sinful strokes of her fingers.

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his hips thrusting harder through her breasts, desperate for more.

Needing her fully, he pulled back, lined himself up, and pushed into her slick, ready heat.

The stretch was exquisite.

Her body opened for him, swallowing him in tight, wet pulses. He filled her completely — thick, hard, grinding against her deepest places.

He set a rhythm — slow, devastating strokes, pulling almost all the way out before driving back into her with a wet, audible slap.

She moaned beneath him, clinging to his shoulders, hips bucking up desperately with every thrust.

The desk creaked under the force of their bodies.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and heat — their joining loud, wet, filthy, and beautiful.

Sliding one hand down, he circled the tight ring of her anus with slick fingers. With patient pressure, he eased his thumb inside.

She cried out sharply, her entire body tightening — stretched, filled, possessed.

The overwhelming dual sensation broke her.

Her nails raked down his back as another orgasm tore through her — her body locking, her pussy clamping around his cock, her juices gushing out in hot, violent waves.

He thrust through it, feeling her flutter and convulse around him, the slick, flooding wetness pouring over his cock, drenching his thighs.

Her hand found his balls again, squeezing gently, feeling how tight they were, how close he was.

He buried himself deep inside her, grinding against her, and spilled into her — thick, hot pulses flooding her womb.

She sobbed against his chest as his release filled her, her own body milking him for every last drop.

Even after, he stayed locked inside her, grinding slow and deep, pushing his warmth deeper into her soaked, spasming body.

Tears streamed from her eyes — not from pain, but from being overwhelmed, wrecked, utterly used and worshiped in the same devastating breath.

Slowly, with a deep, broken groan, he pulled free.

Their bodies separated with a wet, messy sound.

They both watched as thick, creamy streams spilled from her swollen, bare folds, leaking down her trembling thighs, splashing onto the battered desk.

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees again, pressing a kiss just above the leaking mess, before kissing his way slowly up her body — her stomach, the heavy curve of her breasts, the hollow of her throat — finally capturing her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss.

Neither spoke.

Neither needed to.

Only the sound of their ragged breathing filled the air as he gathered her into his arms, her body limp, glistening, ruined — and beautiful beyond anything he had ever touched.