Crunch Time - Thursday

She had, in fact, sprinted the thirteen city blocks to the Radley Building after receiving a text message that consisted of a blurry picture of his exposed erection and three simple words...

OFFICE BATHROOM. NOW.

Elongated legs chewed up the distance, and Zoey had barely broken a sweat running five-minute miles all the way downtown, dodging spandex-clad pedestrians like an offensive linesman charging the end zone.

...Only to find Sam urgently rubbing one out in the expected location.

She couldn't have that. Not when she had a perfectly good mouth yearning to savor him again.

"No, it's fine. Better than fine, you look fantastic." Sam grunted as she smoothly vacuumed down six girthy inches and swirled her moist tongue around the crown. "Holy shit, Zee... but that's the point, isn't it? Look at us. People don't just change like this overnight, Henry is downstairs with a GUN, and nobody cares."

"Hmmm?"

The suckling brunette was struggling to follow the conversation. The delectable dick in her mouth and her sensitive nipples crushed against his knees were incredibly distracting. Each hot spurt of sticky seed down her gulping throat sent a jolt of sweet ecstasy straight to her pristine pussy and emptied her mind of any thought beyond getting another fix.

So Zoey sucked harder, twisting her head and pumping his steely shaft to coax out another scrumptious appetizer, moaning and milking her man for all she was worth, eager to get to the main course.

"Ungh... fuck! That's it. Take all of me, you dirty slut." Sam panted, thrusting up into her puckered lips and hammering at her esophagus. "Bu--but listen... we don't have much... hrrgh~ time. Shit is getting crazy out there."

She quivered and shook as he said the magic words. Some deeply repressed part of her soul basking in the glorious light of acceptance.

Was it too early to start thinking about the L-word? To tell Sam that she LOVED the way he recognized her needs and took control in a way she never could? To express how much she LOVED it when he manhandled and used her like a filthy whore to give them both what they desperately desired?

His big hands were tangled in Zoey's glossy mane of chocolate hair, guiding her cum-gargling rhythm and cramming in more of his choking length until it distended her slender neck.

Still, it wasn't enough.

In a shocking surge of arousal, Zoey wrapped her mighty arms around his stout waist and braced her knees, using the hold to drag Sam bodily further into her clutches until his magnificent cock was buried to the base in her ravenous maw.

"Mlurph~!"

"What the fuck, Zee... Hyaaa!"

The Fourth of July exploded in Zoey's singularly focused brain as she lifted Sam off the toilet with her nose pressed firmly into his groin and felt him blow a mouth-watering motherload directly into her flat, hungry stomach.

Her rapturous cunt convulsed, and warm juices squirted. The seat of Zoey's overwrought sweatpants tore apart like tissue paper as her thick rump twerked in ecstasy, unstitching the hem that ran over the bouncing globes of her ass to unveil the honey-soaked polka dot panties beneath.

"Aaaw... fuck!"

"Mmmhmm!"

She held him aloft, twitching and shuddering as she gorged herself on his erupting spunk. Blast after blast of ropey seed blew down her gagging gullet, blitzing her sparking brain cells and filling her empty belly as she came like a freight train right along with him.

After swallowing what felt like a pint of gloopy goodness, Zoey eventually came up for air. Catching the last vestiges of Sam's creamy load on her flushed cheeks and sloppy chin, she rubbed her adorable face against his tireless turgidity and let out a wet little burp.

"'Scuse me." She giggled, nuzzling his tip and giving it a playful lick. "Thanks for breakfast, Sam. Gosh, but you're still, like, really hard."

"Jeezus, Zee... when am I not hard these days? This is what I was talking about." Sam groaned, staring down at her from his lofty position. "You can put me down now. Please?"

"Maybe I don't wanna," Zoey teased. Sam's weight barely registered despite his increased bulk. "Got my very own jizz dispenser right here. Super handy."

She punctuated her point by taking a long, loving slurp of his rigid shaft as though taking a hit on a giant bong.

The warm glowing after-effects weren't at all dissimilar.

"Gah! Oh gawd, Zoey, I'm serious. We're just lucky Sadie didn't see you come in here, but I'm going to be missed soon and you've split your pants."

"Oh... um, golly." She lowered him back to the toilet seat and patted her butt with a worried frown. "What should I do, Sam? They'll all laugh if they see me."

Sam levered his cock down one trouser leg, buckled his belt, and zipped up his fly before giving Zoey a comforting pat on the head.

That made her feel better. Her man was, like, really smart and would know what to do.

"Clean yourself up and leave the rest to me." He said, swiping some of the mess off her chin with his thumb and letting her suck it clean. "I'll think of something, maybe come up with a distraction, then you can sneak out and hide amongst the filing cabinets until I find something to cover you."

Fortunately for them, a distraction was already in the making...

________________

"Holy shit, what are you wearing, Claire? You look like a total Barbie bimbo! Did you bathe in peroxide or simply chug laundry bleach directly from the jug?"

"You're one to talk, Tams. I should probably call Mattel and let them know there's a walking, talking Bratz doll skank ripping off their intellectual property!"

Tammy ground her teeth and tried to incinerate the other--distinctly blonder--senior accountant with her glare. She wanted to toss her tepid cup of cheap coffee in Claire's stupid face and watch her mascara run.

This gabby cow came to work stuffed into a slinky red, halter-top microdress, and clear platform stripper heels, then had the gall to mouth off at her?

The ridiculous dress had a cutout window in the shape of a heart over her hefty udders and was so short it barely covered her fat ass. However, the Asian number-cruncher could admit it took several inches off Claire's waist and hid the soft paunch around her middle well.

As though it was no longer there or had been funneled into her obscenely large boobs and butt...

"Pink lipstick, rose nail polish, and bottle blonde hair?" Tammy snarled. "I think you've set feminism back four decades, Doll."

That blow seemed to land where it hurt. One of Claire's hands tugged at a golden lock as her sea-green eyes shifted nervously, and she frowned in concern.

"I--I didn't dye it. It's soaking up all the bright springtime sunshine. You should try catching a few rays, Vampirella."

It was Tammy's turn to flinch.

Her online purchases had begun to arrive in droves of boxes and parcels over the last twenty-four hours. Her uptown apartment was awash in tissue paper, packing material, and plastic bags as she had torn into the mountain of mail like a kid on Christmas morning.

Frilly gothic lolita dresses, tattered punk skirts replete with dangling chains, studded leather belts and collars, knee-high combat boots, death-metal baby tees, and a lifetime supply of dark make-up now littered her living space.

It had been the sweetest torture to pick out a single outfit to trounce her office rival. Tammy had been enamored with every selection she modeled before the closet mirror.

She had looked and felt amazingly in gossamer skirts of deepest obsidian that contrasted well with so much bare porcelain thigh and the short vinyl biker girl jacket, which worked wonders on her burgeoning breasts.

...Breasts that had grown from flat plains to small hillocks overnight.

Tammy was so hot and bothered by her reflection, she had ended up splayed out on the bedroom floor, shoulders back and feet planted solidly in the carpet, hips humping the air as she trimmed her precious pearl to gushing fruition.

The first of many that sleepless cum-happy night. She had woken with a new sense of sensual invulnerability and wasn't about to back down before this uppity bimbo. Today, she was armored in readiness for war.

Even if that armor consisted of a tiny lace bustier that cupped her upturned tits, shiny black hotpants which hardly covered her firm derriere, fishnet stockings, and blood-red Doc Martins.

The boots matched the worrying streaks of crimson that were appearing in Tammy's long, inky hair.

"You're more of a bubble brain than I thought if you expect me to believe that bullshit."

"You're one to talk, Dum-Dum!"

They were standing in the kitchenette, throwing each other nasty looks and preparing to lunge at one another when Sam trotted briskly out of the bathroom with a stern expression.

"Hey now, what did I tell you girls yesterday?" He barked, clapping his hands for attention. Two garishly made-up sets of eyes snapped onto him. "No more catfights in the office. Don't make me build another wall."

Tammy's pretty pussy twinged at the sight of him. Big and burly. Practically bursting with muscle from his undersized clothes. That same smell as before wafted after the not-so-junior-looking accountant: all salt and sex and manly musk.

Claire dropped her coffee cup in her haste to get to him first. It splashed to the floor and stained the dreary carpet a new shade of brown.

"Sammy! Thank goodness you're here." The top-heavy blonde flounced and skipped in her disastrously high platform heels. "I'm, like, sooo~ sorry for upsetting you, but that emo skank was ready to attack me."

She barreled into Sam, flattening herself against his front and shoving her enormous chest under his nose. Tammy fought a jealous snarl and cocked a slim hip as she fluttered her lengthy faux lashes in mock innocence.

No way was she going to come off like a thirsty bitch. Not when she had an actual brain in her skull.

"You don't believe that, do you, Sam?" The petite Asian drawled, drowning her southern twang in sugary sweetness. "I could never disobey a man as strong and handsome as you... Sir."

She strolled over to the pair, practicing a proper saunter. Stockinged legs flashed with each swaying step, flipping her silky hair over a pale shoulder as she shot him smokey bedroom eyes.

Claire glared daggers at her as she snuggled in closer and smooshed her lush curves into Sam's unyielding physique. There was a particularly interesting outline of something thick and sturdy trapped down one pant leg, covering most of the distance to his knee.

It visibly pulsed, and a wet spot darkened the khaki fabric where it ended in a large bulbous lump. Tammy's mouth flooded with saliva as she elbowed the ditzy bimbo--soliciting an indignant squark--and latched onto it with both hands, molding her lithe figure into Sam's side.

His brooding hazel eyes flicked between both of them. Craggy brow furrowed, and lantern jaw clenched as they pawed at him, fawning like star-struck teens over a celebrity crush.

"I guess this was all just a big misunderstanding," Sam growled, his fingers tracing down the arch of Tammy's spine to sink into the taut flesh of her tight little butt and grip it possessively. By the lewd moan Claire emitted, she had received a similar mauling. "Maybe I should have the two of you kiss and make up. To finally bury the hatchet and put an end to this unprofessional animosity once and for all."

Tammy jittered in his grasp, clawing fingers less than an inch from her throbbing pussy. She turned to stare at Claire, who was equally flushed with aroused confusion as they both ground against Sam's stocky frame and exhaled hot, horny breaths.

Kiss Claire?

The thought had never occurred to her, but as Tammy looked into the wide bottle-green eyes of her sister in bookkeeping, the idea quickly gained merit.

Claire was undeniably sexy in a full-figured fashion. She sported many curvy assets that the waifish accountant secretly yearned to possess.

One innocent peck wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

"If--If that's what you want, Sam." She whispered as a wash of abrupt excitement fluttered her tummy. "I guess that would be okay."

"Yup, I think it will be for the best." He nodded sternly. "Claire?"

"If you say so, Sammy." The curvaceous blonde chirped, then puckered up and leaned towards her.

Tammy melted at the pillowy sensation of Claire's luscious rose lips. An involuntary moan escaped her throat, and she might have collapsed on jellied knees if not for Sam's tight hold on her butt. She fell into the kiss, surrendering to the heat that welled within her core and misted her womanly folds.

Everything about Claire was supremely soft and comfortable. They melded together as tentative tongues touched and then grew bolder in their explorations. The big hand on her wiggling toosh slipped lower, deeper into the crack of her ass, reaching for the shadow of her pussy over the shiny black material of her hot pants as Tammy held onto the huge bulge in Sam's pants like a lifeline.

It was incredibly sturdy. Unshifting except for the pulse of his steady heartbeat thrumming through the exceptional hardness.

"That's it. Isn't that nicer than all the snark and bitchiness?" He murmured, "You're both really pretty, and pretty girls should get along, friendly-like. It makes everything easier and more fun for everyone."

"Mmhmm~..."

They moaned their mutual agreement into each other's open mouths. Pink rose and dark arabesque lipstick mashed together as Tammy shivered in arousal and Sam's probing digits finally found the promised land. They pressed against her puffy mound, pushing through the taut rubberized fabric of her short shorts, and applied heaven-sent pressure to her sensitive nub.

"Mmmmnnph!"

It was as though he hit the trigger on a primed detonator. Bone-shaking bliss exploded through Tammy. Her taut little body seized as an almighty crash of blinding pleasure rocked the very foundations of her existence and rewrote the definition of ecstasy in her endorphin-flooded brain.

Claire seemed to be enduring a similar experience.

She sagged into Tammy, wrapping her in a strangulating hug as her bodacious figure bucked and jerked wildly, squealing down the smaller woman's throat. Her voluminous mane of golden hair blanketed them both as only Sam's herculean strength kept them upright through the thrashing throes of carnal climax until, after a timeless period of floating weightlessly in a euphoric void, they returned to earth once again.

"There... I bet you both feel better now." Sam stated proudly, retracting his magic hands to slap them soundly on Tammy and Claire's butt cheeks. "Best of friends at last. Maybe more than friends, if I didn't misread the signals there at the end?"

He articulated the question with a quirk of an eyebrow as Tammy labored for oxygen and extricated herself from Claire's clutches. A thin strand of spittle still connected their bruised lips.

What was he asking? She wasn't into women, at least not until he brought it up... Claire had felt wonderfully soft and warm now she thought about it.

"Is that something you'd be into, Sammy?" The voluptuous blonde sounded hopeful, sending Tammy urgent, meaningful looks. "Because it could be..."

She just nodded along, still half lost in the post-orgasmic glow and feeling his massive cock lurch in her grip at the sapphic suggestion. The pungent wet spot on his pant leg grew, and her mouth watered.

Sam cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah... that would be super hot, but it's not about me--"

"Samuel!" Sadie's voice rang out from her office doorway. Crisp and commanding. "I need you in here right now. No excuses and on the double!"

"Pardon me, ladies." Sam released them and doffed an imaginary hat to the two blushing senior accountants. "Duty calls, and I wouldn't dream of interfering in the beginnings of such a beautiful friendship."

Claire hugged Tammy close, sliding a silky thigh between her shaky, stockinged legs and thrusting her ginormous udders into the diminutive Asian's face, burying it in the heart-shaped cleavage window.

"Hurry back, Sammy Baby! Me and my new girlfriend will be waiting."

________________

Sam stepped into Sadie's office to find the older woman sitting behind her desk in her high-backed chair, turned away from him with only the top of her burgundy bun visible over the headrest.

"Kindly close the door and take a seat, Samuel."

The change in decor was remarkable.

Unlike on the main floor, none of the furniture came in a flatpack or had to be assembled with an Allen key. Everything was polished--if mildly worn--timber, from the large mahogany desk to the cedar bookshelves stuffed with legal tomes lining each side of the room.

A vibrant navy and silver Indian rug hid the faded carpet tiles, and Sadie's credentials were neatly framed and hung. Even the lighting felt more welcoming, noonday sunlight filtering in a large picture window that took up most of the rear wall, through which the mature business owner was presumably staring.

"You wanted to see me, Miss Chandler?" Sam asked, squeezing himself into one of the two chairs before her desk. The frame creaked under his weight. "It sounded important."

"I did, and it is." She slowly rotated to face him, shapely legs crossed and delicate fingers steepled under her pert nose, only lacking a cat to complete the Bond villain impression."I'm not blind, you know. I see what is going on out there."

Sam's throat went dry, but he couldn't help staring at her overtly ample breasts framed by her elbows in the tiny crimson corset. He crossed his legs too, if only to conceal the obstinate upsurge in his trousers.

"You did--I mean, you do?"

Was he about to lose his job because he couldn't keep it in his horribly constricting pants? Dammit, but blood flow down there was becoming a real issue!

Somehow, he felt that argument wouldn't hold much water in the stormy face of his boss.

"I certainly do. They're everywhere now. Cheap harlots strolling down the avenue, audaciously dressed in slutty outfits, flashing their tits and asses for the world to see." Sadie hissed, bending forward and giving Sam a better view of her bountiful cleavage. "Trying to sink their claws into any man they can. It's shameless, utterly shameless, I tell you!"

Sam let himself breathe again and nodded amicably in relief.

"As you say, Miss Chandler."

His words mollified her some, and the hint of a pleased smile twitched the corners of her ruby lips. Dusky eyes behind designer lenses threatened to burn holes into Sam as his manager rose gracefully from her seat and prowled around the large desk.

"Naturally, you have no interest in that type of loose woman, right, Samuel?" She asked in a decidedly warmer tone, circling behind him to run a teasing finger over broad shoulders. "A fine young man like yourself with such a bright future ahead of him doesn't waste time on trashy floozies. I imagine you have more... advanced tastes in women."

Sadie draped herself over his back, and her spicy perfume washed over Sam as her firm tits pressed into his neck. "Just nod and say 'yes, Miss Chandler.'"

He stifled a groan as his cock became an iron ramrod in his pants. A hammer ready to drive nails, or maybe some wicked boss pussy.

Four days of ever-present hardness and arousal--not to mention some eye-opening sexual experiences--had eroded away many inhibitions but not Sam's good sense.

Sadie was reveling in a little power play, and he was disinclined to stop her. Not yet, at least.

He nodded diligently, "Yes, Miss Chandler."

The burgundy-haired beauty let out a husky purr of satisfaction, slipping around to Sam's front and sliding a knee across his thighs as she straddled his lap.