Jordan's Second Jobs Pt. 03

"Oh, my God," she whispered, but managed to stifle the rest of her reactions. He started slowly, then his urgency got the best of him. He pumped into her like his life depended on it. She held onto the conference table for dear life. At first she could only hear him grunting behind her like a wild animal, impossibly big, impossibly quick.

"I...knew...it...wouldn't...take...much...convincing..." Sam managed. "I...could see...you...were a...whore...from...the...beginning..." The loud slapping sounds, and the squelching sounds his cock made is he rammed it into her aching pussy, were almost sensory overload for Jordan. A moan escaped her despite her attempts to hold back. "Maybe...next...time...you'll...be more...vocal...in...your...appreciation...you...fucking...whore..."

Each word seemed to make him grow bigger and thrust harder. Jordan couldn't help it. She squeezed with her pussy and he moaned loudly. "I'm...going...to...come...you...slut...where...do...you want...it..."

Jordan instinctively reached back and grabbed his jumpsuit to hold him in as he propelled himself into her, lifting her heels off the floor. She felt the warm flood as it spread out inside her. Her legs began shaking and her head fell to the conference table. She couldn't stop it. Sam thrust into her several more times. She let go of his jumpsuit and grabbed wildly at his ass to hold him inside her. It felt like he was leaving a gallon of come inside her.

She breathed heavily as he roughly pulled himself free with an audible pop and moved to the couch. Jordan went still again, other than her labored breathing. She could feel the invasion of cool air on her insides and she knew she was gaped open. She shuddered and felt the hot come run out of her and down her leg. She glanced down at her scrubs and saw a shining trail running all the way down her leg and creating a large wet spot.

There was so much. She shuddered again and felt it coming. Impossible, she thought, as an orgasm overtook her. Jordan heaved for a few more seconds then weakly bent down and grasped for her scrubs. She yanked them up and, with a burst of energy, quickly ran for the door while Sam watched, grinning from ear to ear.

"See you Monday, then?" he called after her as she ran down the hall.

###

"Well...," David began slowly, then found resolve. "It's not my problem. You knew this was a possibility."

"But not after a fucking month and with someone at work!" Jordan screamed. "I should just quit now and try to find a job in another state!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's not make an emotional decision. Did you see your royalty pay-out yet? Subscriptions jumped seven percent in the first week, twelve percent in the second week. They're only up three percent this week, but that's monumental. It's unprecedented! It's almost as much as when that Oregon library coed finally went pro. Anyway, I'll think of something. After all, we can't have you fucking randos or it will screw up your testing."

Jordan calmed somewhat at the mention of her royalties. "Where are you? I can barely catch every word?"

"Dubai, probably for another week. Business stuff you'll hear about eventually. Probably soon. Listen, log in to your admin account to see how things are going, get a good look at those numbers, and enjoy the long weekend. Don't go work at the coffee shop or house sit or whatever. Buy yourself something nice. Have a few glasses of wine. Forget about this guy at work. I'll be back next week and I'll have thought of something by then." He ended the call without saying 'good-bye.'

Jordan sank back in her free couch and tried to clear her mind. Her phone lit up with a text from David reminding her to check her looming royalty pay-out. She decided to save it for later and swiped the text to unread so she wouldn't forget.

Buy something nice? Or drink some wine? Or both? Or I could go to work and see if Sam and his big cock were working on a Saturday?

Jordan shook her head violently and slapped her forehead a few times for good measure. What the fuck was wrong with her? Her phone buzzed again, and she wanted to tell David to fuck off with his band-aid-on-a-broken-leg solutions but it was one of her pet-sitting clients texting her to ask if she could last-minute watch their labradoodle.

She sighed. Maybe what she needed was a little normalcy.

###

Monday rolled around and everything seemed normal. Jordan had spent the rest of her weekend house-sitting, watching the labradoodle, and taking two unscheduled shifts at the coffee shop. She was tired, but this was what she was used to. It felt like her old routine. Her stomach did a weird lurch when she saw Sam in the hallway mid-morning, but he didn't look at her any differently than any time before Friday and her body reacted in no other way.

Jordan felt some relief. Maybe this was the life meant for her.

Later that morning she caught up with Carly in Corridor A and they walked to the cafeteria. She didn't give the soda machines a sideways glance, and had normal chit-chat with Carly over her ramen and Carly's salad. Sam was nowhere to be seen. When it was time to leave, Jordan begged off Carly and told her she had something she needed to take care of first.

After the cafeteria had mostly cleared out, Jordan deposited her trash with authority, walked straight through the entrance, and marched into the hallway between the soda machines, on her way to tell Sam she wouldn't be subjected to his extortion scheme.

Twenty seconds later she was bent over the conference table, her scrubs at her ankles, and Sam was pounding into her from behind. Same as before, he thrust up into her, lifting her heels off the ground, and flooded her.

Jordan spent the early afternoon fighting gravity, but quickly had to go to the restroom to clean up the evidence. When she left for the day, she detoured to the little hallway between the two soda machines for a refill. Then returned after lunch the following day and at the end of the day. Then again.

She let Sam cap their week Friday afternoon by granting his request to fuck her ass, as long as he came in her pussy. Instead of bending over the conference table, she stripped naked and lay on her back on the couch, spreading her legs wide to make it easier for him to pull out of her ass and come in her pussy.

###

"Not if you want this to keep going, you won't."

"I want my own personal porn. Don't forget, I could still report you."

"Do it then, and lose your job, too. There's no guarantee they'll fire me but even if they do, I have a second job to fall back on. Do you? And all I have to do is deny, deny, deny and demand that they prove it, even if you send it in as a random informer or whistleblower or whatever stupid shit you're thinking."

"I'll out you. All over the Internet."

"And you...will...never...touch...this...pussy...again. You're Goddamned close to that already."

Sam stared at her enraged. Jordan calmly leaned back, spread her legs, and hooked her arms behind her knees, looking up at him. "Want to chance it?" she asked calmly.

The anger eased on Sam's face, but he said nothing. Jordan spit in her hand and rubbed the saliva on her ass, then slid a finger in and cooed. "What do you want to do? Keep that big, thick cock in your pants? Or...oooooh...fuck this tight ass with it?" She continued to slide her finger in and out, looking up at him. "I'll let you come in my ass this time. Would you like that? Would you like to fuck my ass and come in it?"

Sam's face relaxed and his eyes lingered on her face for a moment before being drawn to where Jordan was now using two fingers. She moaned as she plunged two fingers into her ass. Her free hand automatically went to her to clit and her hips began to twitch and gyrate as her moaning grew louder.

Sam dropped the camcorder on the conference table and started towards her, stopping Jordan in her tracks. "Uh-uh...give me that. I don't trust you." Sam stopped, an annoyed look on his face, but turned and picked up the camcorder and handed it to her. "Thank you," she whispered.

He stood over her and shook his head, then fell on her. He slobbered all over her breasts, grasping his cock and rubbing it up and down from her pussy to her ass.

"Oh...baby," she exhaled throatily. "You want a video of your own? Yeah? You gonna jerk off to it later? You gonna put it on the Internet and tell everyone you fucked Nastia Nice? Huh? Say 'Nastia' and I'll let you have what you want, baby."

"Sure...Nastia," Sam grumbled and spit onto his cock. He continued to rub it up and down from Jordan's pussy to her ass, spitting every few seconds. Jordan opened the viewfinder and a few beeps from the camcorder announced it was ready. She pointed it towards Sam's cock now teasing at her asshole.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Are you?" Sam growled.

She inhaled sharply when he rammed his cock straight into her. She wasn't ready and the pain was enough to bring tears to her eyes. He left it buried inside her as a a low whimper escaped and she struggled with the camcorder, desperate to maintain some composure.

Sam pulled back slowly until only the head of his cock was still inside her, then slowly pushed back in. He repeated his slow retreat and re-invasion. The pain in Jordan's ass gradually gave way to a warmth that spread out across and into the deepest depths of her pussy as Sam kept repeating this slow back-and-forth. He was hitting a new spot that Jordan had never experienced before.

"Oh, my God, Sam," she whispered.

He maintained his steady rhythm and Jordan morphed into Nastia, the pitch of her voice increasing and taking on a breathless characteristic. "Right there...oh, right there, daddy! I can't...I can't believe...believe it. I'm gonna come! Fuck my ass, daddy! Harder, please, oh, please, oh, please, fuck me harder!"

Sam looked down at her as she writhed beneath him. "Give me the camera," he said calmly. Jordan handed it over without protest, squealing and moaning. Her hands went to her breasts and she roughly squeezed them, mauling her own breasts violently, then pinched her nipples.

Sam roamed the camcorder back and forth between her face and his cock fucking her asshole. He moved the camcorder back to her face, her head thrown back in ecstasy, as Jordan ran her hands across and over her body.

"Please, daddy, fuck my little asshole harder! Please! I need your cum in my ass! Please, baby, fuck me!"

"You want my cum, Jordan?"

"Yes, daddy, yes! I need your cum!"

"Are you a good little whore for daddy?"

"I am! Please come inside me!"

"You love cum, don't you, Miss Petrenko?"

"I love cum! I love your cum! Come inside me, baby! Come in my ass!"

"You want me to come in your ass, Jordan?"

"Please, Sam! Please come in my ass!"

Sam focused the camcorder on his cock fucking into her pussy with greater urgency, then moved it back to her face. "Get ready for it, Miss Petrenko, I'm gonna come in your ass!" He pushed all the way into her, his balls resting against the couch cushion. His cock started to spasm.

Her fingernails dug into her breasts as her body went rigid. A low moan escaped her and intensified until she was screaming. Sam nearly dropped the camcorder, but managed to keep it trained on her face as her orgasm overtook her. He pulled his cock out and jerked a couple of spurts onto her pussy. Jordan's pussy gaped open and closed again, seeming to suck his come inside.

Sam stood and took a step back, keeping the camcorder on her. She was gasping for air, her head still back, her mouth wide open.

"I don't know why you work here. You should just do porn full-time. I mean, you flipped from Jordan Petrenko to Nastia Nice in barely a few seconds."

Jordan's breathing gradually returned to normal and she sat up on her elbows.

"I have my reasons for wanting to keep those two lives separate."

"Like a porn superhero. Mild-mannered research scientist Jordan Petrenko by day, complete with glasses, prim and proper. Super cumslut Nastia Nice by night, complete with anal orgasms and cum-sucking pussy."

Jordan regarded him coolly.

"Let's say," Sam continued, "that now that I have specific, detailed, very explicit evidence that you're both Jordan Petrenko and Nastia Nice, I think some additional agreements are in order."

"You do, do you?"

"First, Miss Jordan Petrenko, I don't want you to ever wear panties again here at Mass Biotech and I want you to only wear skirts."

"I was thinking of doing that anyway."

"Second, I want to fuck you whenever the urge strikes me. If I tell you to be here in five minutes, I expect you to be here in five minutes. If I want to fuck your ass, you show up already lubed. If I want a blowjob in the bathroom, get down on your knees. If I call you to the fuckin' Dunkin' I want you there with my coffee hot and your pussy wet."

"Is that all?" Jordan asked, surprisingly calm. "I would have agreed to all that without blackmail."

Sam ignored her. "Let's see...oh, third, I have some friends I need you to take good care of. And I want to make videos of it."

"You want me to be your trick? You want to be my pimp?"

"That sounds so negative. I think 'facilitator' is much nicer. Fourth, I have some ideas about where your career should go. I like gangbangs and you like cum. One of my favorite websites closed and I bought the domain."

"And you want me to be your first content provider."

Sam nodded emphatically. "Just imagine it, getting gangbanged by six, eight, ten men and they all come on your face."

"I prefer that men come in my pussy."

"Fifth, I don't know who's managing you but they suck. You need more camera angles. You need some reality-type stuff. High-gloss is fine, but people prefer something that looks real, like shot with a phone. You should have already had some big black--"

"Oh, Sam," Jordan interrupted. "I'm so disappointed. Not in your cock, but that you would risk the chance of fucking me whenever you want, however you want, wherever you want, whenever you want..for a stupid fucking blackmail video."

"What are you talking about it?"

"Did you check to see if it was recording?"

A confused look flashed across his face, then he quickly ducked his head to scrutinize the articulating screen.

"Fuck," he spat.

Jordan stood up and wrenched the camcorder from his hands. She raised it high above her head and, before Sam could react, threw it to the ground, smashing it across the floor. He stared at the pieces, his jaw slightly agape.

Jordan looked at him coldly, then stepped past him and picked up her clothes. Without bothering to put them on, she headed for the door. She was halfway through when she stopped and turned around. Sam was still staring at the mess on the floor.

"Oh...and you know I have admin access, right? All I needed was your account name, which you so kindly left visible on the screen, and I can ban this IP and every IP you ever accessed the site from, and scan your cookies and use your billing information to prevent you from ever accessing the site from anywhere."

Some of the sloppy mess in her ass and pussy escaped and started to run down her thigh. Jordan looked down and shuddered. "I fucking love it when I have hot cum running down my leg. It's so...slutty," she said gleefully. "I'm such a whore!" She turned to leave, but Sam finally spoke.

"What now?"

"What now?" Jordan repeated. "Oh, I love your cock and you come a lot...but I can't be under the constant stress of blackmail and whatever else. You've seen the website. I'll have no trouble finding more cocks. So..what now? What now is fuck off, Sam N. Grosschwanz."

"But--"

Awww, poor baby. If you're extra-special, super-duper nice and show you can be trusted, maybe you'll eventually get your access back."

She started to leave, then paused. "Especially your...VIP...access. I hope you do the right thing, Sam."

Sam watched as she bounced down the hallway, naked, not bothering to shut the door behind her. She stopped at the corner, turned and smiled at him sweetly, blew him a kiss, then disappeared.

###

"Well...when's my next shoot?" Jordan asked, sounding pouty and rolling her own eyes at the ridiculous tone she'd just taken.

"You should be making enough in royalties that you don't need to do another shoot," David responded, taking his familiar reciprocal tone of annoyance. "Have you already spent it all?"

"No," she pouted again, then shook her head at herself. "I just like to keep myself busy. You don't want me deciding that I like my other second jobs better, do you?"

"Christ. Your other second jobs won't pay you like this does and I doubt you like making a latte as much as you like fucking."

"Fuck off, David."

She heard him sigh. "I don't have time for this, Jordan. I'll be back in a couple of weeks. We'll shoot then. I'm dropping your double pussy scene tonight. We've been teasing it all week and subscriptions are up four percent. I'm working the angle on the other project we discussed, got to go."

"Okay, bye--"

David ended the call before she could finish. Jordan looked at her home screen, feeling frustrated. She thought about Sam, but put him out of her head. Going back to him the very next day would shift all of her momentum back to him. She might want his thick cock...but not enough to suffer another potential blackmail. No, she would let Sam approach her.

And beg.

Her phone buzzed. She was wanted at the coffee shop for a replacement shift. She huffed and thought about avoiding it. When she finally got around to looking, her first royalty payment had been a little over $3,000--way more than Carly's measly $700. The second hit her bank account yesterday. It had been just under $10,000.

Jordan didn't need her other second jobs anymore. She relaxed herself by mentally reciting her favorite what-if. If she could keep doing this for two more months, all of her debt would be paid off. If she could do it for six months after that, she'd have a whole year's salary in the bank. If she had a whole year's salary in the bank, she could quit the rest of her second jobs.

That's where her what-if stopped. What then? Was continuing this second job an option? Mass Biotech paid okay but not great. She had health insurance and a 401k, plus senior researchers made six figures, and project directors made several hundred thousand. There were solid reasons why she wanted to keep this job.

But, God, she loved to fuck and she was already feeling withdrawals now that she was no longer fucking Sam's glorious cock.

She shook off that thought and returned to her what-if.

Her phone buzzed again. She considered ignoring the text. No, she thought, I need to keep up appearances. And this could all end tomorrow.

Her phone buzzed a third time. "Coming," she said under her breath.

###

"Shut up!"

"Why not?" Carly protested. "I've been working out, eating right, and what my boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I wondered why you switched to eating salad. Regardless, I'm not saying you shouldn't."

"What are you saying then?"

"I think you should," Jordan blurted. "I definitely think you should do porn again."

"Shhh!" Carly chided and glanced nervously around.

"There's no one here except Mr. Tailored Lab Coat and he's not paying attention to us."

As if on cue Dr. Jeremiah looked up, perpetual annoyance once again clouding his countenance. Jordan shrugged at him with a weak smile and mouthed 'sorry.' His eyes lingered for a moment longer, then returned to his phone.

"You could do it again," Jordan continued. "We could do it together."

Carly's fork hovered in mid-air, her jaw slightly open. A piece of soggy lettuce jittered from side to side before dropping onto the table. Carly slowly put the empty fork in her mouth, then extracted it, and began chewing nothing in earnest.