Boss's Thick Cock Ravages My Willing Ass

Jamie hunched over his desk in the dimly lit office, the glow of his computer screen casting shadows across stacks of urgent reports. It was well past midnight, and the deadline crunch for the quarterly filings had everyone else scurrying home hours ago. Everyone except him and Mr. Harlan, the stern, silver-fox boss who ruled the floor like a king on his throne. At 25, Jamie was the ambitious intern with stars in his eyes—and a perpetual hard-on for the 40-year-old alpha who'd mentored him into this overtime hell. Harlan was built like a Greek god who'd traded his toga for a tailored suit: broad shoulders, chiseled jaw, and those piercing blue eyes that could make Jamie's knees buckle with a single glance.

The rumors about Harlan's cock didn't help. Office whispers painted it as a monstrous 9-inch beast, thick as a wrist, the kind that rearranged guts and egos alike. Jamie had jerked off to the fantasy more times than he could count, imagining that slab splitting him open right here on the copier. Tonight, with the office empty and the tension thicker than Harlan's rumored girth, Jamie decided it was time to turn fantasy into overtime overtime.

He'd prepped like a pro: a generous squirt of lube between his cheeks before leaving home, his hole already slick and twitching in anticipation. As Harlan strode by with a stack of folders, barking orders about double-checking the spreadsheets, Jamie "accidentally" knocked his water bottle off the desk. In the clumsy scramble to grab it, he hooked his thumbs into his waistband and yanked his pants down to his ankles, bending over just so. His bare ass cheeks gleamed under the fluorescent lights, lube-slicked and spread invitingly, his pink hole winking like it was begging for a performance review of a very different kind.

"Mr. Harlan!" Jamie gasped, feigning shock as he wiggled his hips. "I—I slipped! But while you're here... sir, please, I need that promotion. Review my... assets?"