They were in his office. It was late, past nine. Nkechi was bent over his desk, her skirt around her waist, her panties in his pocket. He was behind her, his thick cock pounding into her, each thrust a powerful, possessive stroke. The desk was rocking, the sound of their bodies slapping together a rhythmic, obscene beat.

"Who do you belong to?" he grunted, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp slap.

"You, Chief," she gasped, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the polished wood. ...