Chills, multiplying.
At 21, Zach Heffer’s inner alpha was on the cusp of self-actualization. He had graduated from college with honors, from an accelerated program, landed a prestigious internship in a prominent news channel, and recently started applying to universities for his MA in political science.
He was easy on the eye, and he knew it. He may not have been the school team’s captain, but he was on the team nonetheless and undoubtedly made from jock material. He trained, ate healthy, and cultivated his six-pack with religious reverie. He had the hair, the looks, AND the brains. He was pack leader. He was head honcho. He was John Travolta in “Grease”. He had chills, and they were multiplying.
speaking of chills…
“Wanna come over to watch Netflix?” a melodious voice woke Zach from his musings and stopped him in the middle of his leisurely stroll to the office kitchenette. He was practicing his Greased Lightnin’ swagger when Jenna called from her cubicle.
“I’m alone tonight,” She suggested without suggesting. “I have the place to myself.”
Jenna’s huge, blue eyes twinkled in mischievous innuendo. Zach forgot all about the kitchenette and grinned back at her. She was a plump thing. Lucious. Curvy in all the right places. Her heavy, round, bouncy, ivory-white, freckled tits drove him mad. They were secondary only to her scrumptious ass, which he loved to bite and spank as he pounded into her.
“Sure, I’ll come over.” Zach drawled and gave her a once over, bluntly checking out her too-short dress and overly generous cleavage. He couldn’t decide if he preferred her on all fours on the bed tonight or leaning against the shower’s sink, still wearing that dress. Both options were sexy, but the shower offered a large mirror, which tipped the scale in its favor.
Zach LOVED watching himself as he fucked others. He was good at it and looked good doing it. A bit narcissistic? Perhaps. But there was nothing wrong with appreciating your virtuosity as long as you weren’t selfish and took care of your partner.
And Zach always took care of Jenna. He fucked her brains out until she was screaming his name and begging for mercy. The fact that she was 25, four years older than him, and engaged to be married in spring was alluring to no end.
Yep, He was the big kahuna, alright. Zach had everything a guy could want in life: youth, looks, a promising career ahead, a ten-inch dick, and a busty partner with a voluptuous ass just begging for it. Life was good.
Zach couldn’t wait for tonight and wished this day would end soon.
It didn’t.
Zach’s day took a sharp left turn at 4 p.m. when the boxing athlete and social media personality Sam Higgins challenged the legendary heavyweight champion Buck Smith to a boxing match. The challenge was posted on Higgins’s various social media accounts in a video that went viral within minutes. It set fire to sports desks nationwide and under the feet of sports correspondents all over North America.
As a junior intern, Zach kissed his plans for tonight goodbye.
“I need research, Zachary!” commanded Fiona Dennis-Shaw, the channel’s sports correspondent. “Channel 12 is already breaking with this, and you’re sitting here wanking!”
He was not, in fact, wanking. He was heavily submerged in Smith’s biography and had already compiled a short briefing page when Fiona exited her corner office and stormed into the forsaken ground that was the interns’ open space in a haze of British annoyance.
“I need background details, fact checks, track record recap, and best moments videos!” She stood in the middle of Intern-land and punctuated each demand with high heels stumps.
Fiona Dennis-Shaw may have been born in the U.K. but has lived in the U.S. for over forty years. Her aristocratic British accent became her trademark, along with high heels and petite black dresses she wore to all sports events.
Zach adored her. All interns did. She was professional, sharp, nice to entry-level personnel, and hot as fuck. Fiona never allowed editors to narrow her steps into covering tennis or golf. Instead, she ran miles alongside football fields and basketball courts to get exclusive stories. Her British accent may have been fake, but her talent was real. As were her neverending legs.
Said legs were now stomping all over the open space in a British tantrum. Channel 12 was breaking with the story, and Fiona hated being on the losing team.
The interns practically stepped on each other to accommodate her needs, but it was Zach who handed her the document he had compiled with a smirk.
“Here’s a brief for you, Fiona. I’ll have archive footage ready in an hour.”
“Thank fuck one of you has the initiative,” she signed dramatically. “Jenna, go with him! I expect the footage in half that time. Go on! Get me my footage!”
Half an hour later, Zach was fingering Jenna in the run-down, spider-infested basement that served as the channel’s archive.
They reviewed old Buck Smith footage with the highest sense of professionalism for a full fifteen minutes when Jenna suddenly sat in Zach’s lap and wriggled her big butt. Zach’s dick went from nonchalant to invested in an instant. Jenna was typing on the keyboard, expertly editing old footage while undulating her hips all over Zach’s strenuous erection. He shoved one hand deep down her cleavage and the other between her legs and immersed himself in the task of compensating her for having to push back their plans for tonight.
Zach kneaded her busty breasts with one hand. He absolutely loved her sensitive pink nipples and how responsive she was when he pinched and pulled on them. Jenna moaned with pleasure.
God. He loved his life.
His other hand crept up between her thighs, pushed her dress up, and massaged her greedy, needy, heady pussy. Jenna’s panties were moist already. His hand crawled inside the white cotton into the promising wetness of her folds. He spread them and stroked them, alternating between light caresses and heavy pressure.
Jenna moaned and gasped. Zach rutted against her ass, more like a horny teenager than the alpha dog he considered himself to be.
He pushed two fingers inside her scorching hot, wet hole. Jenna twitched and spasmed, her big ass pressing down on his arousal, and Zach almost came. He kissed her neck.
“Hands on the keyboard,” He hissed when she tried to move. “Don’t take your hands off the computer.”
Zach removed his fingers from inside her, covered with slick honey. He stroked her swollen clit and coated it with her wetness. Jenna ground her hips to meet his fingers, and Zach ground his hard cock against her sexy ass.
Higher and higher, he felt Jenna was on the edge, every muscle in her body tight and locked. Zach pinched her taut nipples, squeezed her tits to the point of pain until she cried out loud. His fingers flicked her swollen, eager bud hard and fast.
Her hips rolled, and Jenna’s breath shallowed as pleasure tore from her in an unabashed cry. Her orgasm triggered full-body shivers and shakes.
Zach was fast on her heels, chasing his own pleasure. Jenna’s body went pliant and limp in his arms, and he dry-humped against her ass.
Close. He was so close. All it would take were two more thrusts.
That ass. His. Soft. He was so close. One thrust. He needed.
Nearly there.
A woman coughed behind him in annoyance, the familiar sound of her voice freezing him faster than an icy shower.
Zach winced, balls full of come, ready to shoot their load.
“If you’re quite finished,” tsked Fiona Dennis-shaw from the corridor behind them, “I’m going live in ten minutes.”
