work overtime

In the morning sunlight, in the empty office, her snow-white breasts, with their blue veins showing, trembled slightly.

Her erect nipples, held high, were accentuated by the man behind her, who pulled her shoulders down, making the curves even more pronounced. Against her slender waist, the enviable S-curve was clearly visible, the shadows cast by the backlight possessing an alluring mystery.

The man leaned back, admiring the undulating light and shadow, greedily continuing to caress her nipples with both hands, kneading them vigorously, his hands moving from her full breasts to her waist, then back to those two round, soft mounds.

The woman's buttocks remained erect, brazenly matching the man's rhythmic thrusting movements. "Aren't your legs tired?" the man asked.
"Mmm," the woman nodded tremblingly. The man lifted her firm, upturned buttocks, indicating she could kneel on the chair beside her.

They moved in an awkward position; the woman slowly climbed onto the large chair, the back of the chair facing away from the table, letting the solid, heavy material of the table support the rhythm of their thrusting.

"Thump, thump, thump," the wheeled chair continued to collide with the edge of the table, creating a suggestive rhythm that matched the man's moans.
"You're so tight, especially in this position," the man couldn't help but compliment her, but the woman only continued to moan softly, too exhausted to respond to his praise. The man immediately began an even faster pace, and the woman, already on the verge of breathlessness, couldn't help but cry out. She shyly tried to lower her voice. "It's okay, it's five in the morning," the man reassured her. He wanted to hear her sounds of pleasure, and her shyness only made him quicken his pace. "Ah~~ Ahhh..." The man finally heard the moan he had longed for; he had waited so long for this moment.

Every day, overtime...

"Are you tired?" the man asked the woman beside him. Her stockings were still hanging at the ankles, her bare upper body only showing one button of her shirt at her waist. Her flushed chest revealed her snow-white and pink areolas. The man couldn't resist cupping her full breasts in his hands again and greedily sucking and licking them, his tongue teasing her still erect nipples.

The woman just leaned back in her chair, trembling slightly with his sucking and licking. "Can I take the day off?"
"No, I want you to stay with me." The man glanced at the secretary's desk next to him. "You stay over there with me."
The woman looked at him helplessly. It was six o'clock, and everyone would be coming in soon.
"Then I'll go buy breakfast first." She said, walking to her desk and taking out the suit she had prepared to change into.
This was the scene every Tuesday night, and she was already used to it.
Every Tuesday, she always inexplicably had a lot more work, and
her lover also tacitly agreed to work overtime with her; she also habitually prepared another set of clothes in the office, just in case.
She enjoyed the desire that was aroused unintentionally, and Wednesday mornings were the only time they slept together.
She didn't dislike these days, but they still felt uneasy.

Packing up the plastic bag filled with a slightly whitish, transparent liquid, she picked up her bag and headed out. Opening the door, she found the man's wife sitting silently outside, looking at her with a reproachful gaze; she walked towards her, extending her hand.
The woman froze, looking at her wife's plump hands, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt, but utterly unsure how to react to this scene.
Seeing her lack of response, the wife glared at her fiercely, snatched the plastic bag from the woman's hand, and turned to leave.
Her flat shoes made no sound, but when she turned back to look at the man, his footsteps thudded twice.
The man, with his back to his desk, taking a nap, had no idea what was happening

. Should she leave? Should she let things take their course? Just like always, live each day as it comes.

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