Chocolate milk 🍫🥛

My mouth is wide open; I can’t hide my surprise at his bluntness. Daniel Thornton has a reputation, sure—for being rough around the edges, a old-school businessman who could maybe be accused of being a little too friendly with the women employed by his company…but bluntly propositioning a candidate in the middle of an interview, with scores of people right outside the door of his office?

He nods at my blouse again, breaking my train of thought as he repeats himself, as if for emphasis. “You really want to be here? You want this role?” His shoulders go up in a long, casual shrug. “And I really want to taste those pretty tits. Get myself some chocolate milk.”

I look down at the crisp, tailored black slacks he’s wearing and, sure enough, the bulge there is swelling.

On a whim, I open the top button of the cream silk blouse I’m wearing. “Well…we haven’t talked compensation package yet.”

He smirks but this smirk is different—far less confident than the cocky expression he wore on his face when his secretary first ushered me into his office. He doesn’t say anything to fill the silence, and his hesitation emboldens me. I sit on his desk, undoing another button.

“Play with it while I undress.” I’m confident that if he gets what he wants, I’ll get what I want.

He undoes his belt, then hurriedly unzips his pants and slips himself out of his boxers. His fingers are nice—long and tanned, and he reaches his left hand across to feel for my breasts through my blouse.

I turn away from him, giving him the soft silk draped over my back. His hand drifts down to the hem of the pencil skirt (shorter than it should be, for an interview). Before he can make his move, I hike the skirt up over my hips.

I turn back to face him. “I said play, while I undress.”

He takes my gentle scolding in stride. Now his cock is fully exposed, his hand gliding back and forth, gentle strokes over the shaft. Getting himself ready for me.

I open another button, exposing the top of my black lace bra. I watch his aqua eyes soften as he takes in the scene: my milk chocolate breasts, the dark brown areolae peeking out of the thin, delicate fabric.

I reach across and clasp my hand over his, following along as he works his thick cock, watching it redden in his hand. He seems surprised at my ease touching him, my eagerness at the utterly inappropriate situation.

I want to relieve his beautiful cock, but I don’t want him to forget his initial proposal. “I thought you wanted to get yourself some chocolate milk?”

He nods feverishly, like a man in this desert who’s just been offered ice water.

Suddenly the phone on his desk rings