Coworker Complications Pt. 03

He settled for a moment, and she grabbed the soap again, rinsing his arms, murmuring, "Good boy, almost done." She got to the last stretch, just the reaching around to his back and washing his hair is left. But Carl started to jerk, splashing wildly, "More lips!" booming out, his hands clawing the water. She sighed, but happy for an excuse to visit her crotch. She stood up, to adjust, causing him to start to lose it again as her touch disappeared. She quickly slipped her scrub bottoms and panties down to knee height, presenting the site of her pussy to his dark, crazy eyes, immediately taming him once more. After squatting back down next to the tub, in front of the small puddle of cum for the earlier mishap, she gasps, "Fuck, you're huge," as her eyes find their way back to his cock standing tall. She instinctively reached down, scooping the spilled cum from the floor, smearing it into her pussy as she started rubbing circles around her clit. The heat flared, her clit buzzing, and the soreness faded--jaw eased, throat opened. She pushed deeper, ten inches now, lips stretched tight, tongue pressed flat, sucking with a steady pull. Her fingers circled her pussy, lust drowning the ache, but he came too fast--another thick shot, her belly swelling to dinner-sized--before she could get off. She swallowed, frowning as she stood up with a few more strums to her clit. Disappointed, she returned to her bathing, leaving the cum on her lips, chin and clit to slowly dry.

At the completion of the bath, Megan was almost disappointed he didn't act up, she just needed 5 more minutes to get off. "All clean, big guy, let's get you out." But, Carl fussed again, splashing, growling, "More!" She grinned--finally, a chance to cum too. Sure she was done and could call the muscle back in to deal with the rest, but she felt as though she needed this. "Alright, you asked for it," she said, diving in gladly, scooping more floor cum to rub into her cunt, her scrub bottoms low on her hips. She sucked deep, ten inches sliding smooth, throat still tender but ignored over the fireworks in her clit, her tongue swirling the head, lips locked tight. Her fingers worked her pussy fast, slick with his cum, and she moaned around his shaft, the vibration humming through him. Five minutes stretched to ten, her head bobbing relentlessly--up, down, slow, then fast--spit dripping, suds mixing with the mess. Her clit throbbed, heat coiling, and as his balls tensed, she pushed harder, eleven inches now, gagging softly but riding it out. He came--somehow of equal size as before, a similar intensity, and, of course, a steady stream. She pulled the head out of her throat, to taste the cum, which she started to associate with her own orgasm after the events with Ryan's coworkers. With the flooding in her mouth, and her pleasure building down low, her orgasm started. Her pussy clenching as she swallowed gulp after gulp, Her stomach feeling stuffed, like a full meal with dessert, a warm weight pooling inside. She pulled off, gasping, triumphant, a dribble on her chin, her orgasm still buzzing through her.

Carl slumped back, spent, a blissful grin spreading as his cock softened, balls shrunk from grapefruits to plums--she noted it with a quick glance, satisfied. She rinsed him off, breath ragged, and helped him into a fresh gown, wheeling him to bed. "Pretty girl," he mumbled, docile, curling up with a sigh.

At 9:45 a.m., Megan returned to Kevin's office. He waved her in, hunched over a monitor, security footage flickering--her on her knees, scooping cum from the floor with her fingers, rubbing it into her clit as she bobbed on Carl's cock, masturbating with intent. "Well, damn," he said, tone professional but impressed. "Crazy Carl's unprecedentedly calm. Your performance was outstanding--textbook patient stabilization, Megan."

She shifted, flushing as he paused the footage, zooming on her cum-rubbing. "Uh, yeah--rubbing myself like that gets me worked up, helps me push through a rough blowjob. His size was hard to manage, and, well, it took 4 times to calm him down. I didn't think I could make it through that ordeal if I didn't, you know, do that." Megan's heart pounded as she waited for his response, unsure if she broke a huge rule.

He nodded, unfazed. "No concern--results justify it. You're getting a substantial raise. Carl was lined up for a $7,000 MRI--suspected testicular cancer, no kin to foot it, plus specialist fees. You drained those balls to normal, literally, they look like any other set around here. His expensive Urologist now is getting the boot. Saved us big, like tens of thousands."

Her eyes lit up, pride swelling. "Seriously? Ryan's gonna flip when I tell him about the raise!"

"You're my ace in the hole now," Kevin said, smacking her butt with a meaty thud, like a football coach to a player. "Gonna need you a lot--keep it up." He turned back to his papers, and she bounced out, mind racing with the win and the tale for Ryan.

---

Ryan sat at his desk, the faint hum of his laptop fan cutting through the stillness of the law firm's eighth floor. It was 5:55 p.m., the day's end creeping closer, and the office around him had emptied out--phones silent, footsteps faded, just the distant whine of a vacuum somewhere down the hall. His tie hung loose, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, and the brief on his screen blurred into meaningless lines. He'd been staring at it for hours, fingers idle on the keys, his mind elsewhere--snagged on Saturday's chaos, the video, Megan's eager mouth on his coworkers' cocks. Guilt gnawed at him, a dull throb behind his ribs, tangled with that sick heat he couldn't shake, no matter how much he hated it.

The door banged open, shattering the quiet, and Carson, JP, and Cory spilled in, their laughter a jagged edge slicing through his fragile calm. Carson strode ahead, suit jacket slung over one shoulder, his stride cocky and deliberate. JP trailed him, hands in his pockets, a grin curling his lips like he'd just heard the punchline to a dirty joke. Cory brought up the rear, his heavy steps thudding against the carpet, shirt untucked and stained with what looked like ketchup from the break room. They filled the small space, their presence a wall Ryan couldn't push past, and his stomach twisted.

"Closing time, virgin boy," Carson said, voice sharp with mockery, leaning against the wall near the desk. "Thought we'd check in--see how our favorite cuck's holding up after the weekend."

Ryan's grip tightened on his mouse, eyes fixed on the screen, pretending to type. "I'm working," he muttered, low and clipped, hoping they'd take the hint and fuck off.

JP snorted, dropping into the guest chair with a creak, legs sprawling wide. "Working? Bullshit. You're thinkin' about her, ain't you? Little Megs, all bent over, takin' orders like a champ Saturday night."

Cory chuckled, hovering near the door, scratching at his gut. "Champ? Shit, she's a pro. You train her for that, Ry? Or she just naturally dumb enough to suck anything we tell her to?"

Ryan's jaw clenched, heat creeping up his neck. He knew what they knew--him and Megan, virgins, bound by her parents' rules: no sex, no nudity, no touching 'til the wedding. They'd sniffed out her gullibility fast, exploited it, and pegged him as so pent-up he'd crack under their games. But they didn't know the half of it--Tyrone, her job, the raise. Just Saturday, their dares, and the video. He forced his voice steady. "Get out. I've got shit to do."

Carson smirked, stepping closer, his shadow falling over the desk. "Oh, we're not goin' anywhere 'til we talk about the main event. That video, man. You watched it yet? Tell me you didn't pop that cherry boner of yours to it."

Ryan's pulse spiked, the memory of yesterday's unzip loud in his ears--her on her knees, Carson's dick in her mouth, his own cum splattering his shirt. He shook his head, fast and stiff. "No. Didn't watch it. Don't care."

"Liar," JP said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, eyes glinting. "You're so backed up, I bet you couldn't help it. Her slobberin' all over us--bet you rubbed one out the second she sent it."

"I didn't," Ryan snapped, louder now, his chair scraping as he shoved back an inch. "Drop it."

Cory laughed, a wet, wheezing sound. "Oh, he's touchy. Bet he's savin' it up for the big day--whenever the fuck that is. How long you gonna wait, man? She's out here givin' it away for free, and you're sittin' on your hands."

Carson's grin turned cold, and he leaned in, palms flat on the desk, close enough Ryan could smell his overpriced cologne. "Here's the thing, Ry. We don't believe you. You're too wound up--years with no pussy, watchin' her play our little games? No way you didn't jerk it. And if you're lyin', we'll just ask Megs ourselves. She'll spill--girl's too dumb to hide shit. And if she says you did, oh, man, we're gonna make it real bad for you."

Ryan's breath caught, panic flaring. Ask Megan? She'd beam and nod, proud she'd turned him on, oblivious to the leverage it'd hand them. The Kendall clip burned in his mind--Carson's ace, the blackmail keeping him leashed. He couldn't let them near her, couldn't risk the truth cracking open. "Fine," he spat, voice breaking, hands balling into fists. "Yeah, I watched it. Jerked off. Happy now?"

Carson straightened, triumphant, clapping slow and loud. "There it is! Knew it, you horny bastard. Pent-up little virgin couldn't resist--her suckin' us off got you good, huh?"

JP hooted, slapping his thigh. "Fuckin' gold. You hear that, Cory? He's whackin' it to his own girl gettin' used. That's some twisted shit, Ry."

"Twisted and hot," Cory added, grinning wide, teeth yellowed from too much coffee. "She's a keeper, man. Dumb as a brick, but those hands? That mouth? You're welcome."

Ryan's face burned, shame and rage boiling, but he bit it back, glaring at the desk. "You got what you wanted. Now leave."

"Not yet," Carson said, tone shifting, sharp and deliberate. "Tomorrow night's the real deal. Clear your schedule--hers too. We've got somethin' lined up, and it's gonna blow Saturday outta the water. Tell her to dress hot--somethin' tight. She's got the body for it."

"What's that mean?" Ryan asked, head snapping up, dread pooling in his gut.

"Means you'll see," JP said, standing, stretching his arms with a lazy smirk. "Gonna be fun. She's so easy to play--bet she'll do anything we say."

Cory nodded, lumbering toward the door. "Anything. You're in for a treat, virgin boy. Don't fuck it up."

Carson lingered last, tapping the desk with a knuckle. "See you tomorrow, Ry. Don't be late--or we'll start without you." He turned, sauntering out, their voices fading down the hall, leaving Ryan alone, chest heaving, the clock ticking to 6:00 p.m.

He shoved his laptop into his bag, hands shaking, and bolted, the firm's sterile corridors a blur as he hit the elevator, then the street. The walk home was a slog through dusk, the March air sharp, horns blaring around him. Tomorrow night--something big. His mind spun--more dares? Public shit? Worse? They had the video, the power, and now this vague threat loomed, another knot in the web he couldn't untangle. He needed to warn Megan, control it somehow, but how, without spilling everything?

The apartment building rose ahead, its grimy brick a grim welcome, and he hustled toward the door, keys out. But Tyrone was there, slouched against the stoop, a hulking shadow in his tattered coat, cigarette smoke curling from his lips. The stench hit--piss, sweat, something rancid--and Ryan's stride faltered.

"Yo, lawyer boy," Tyrone rasped, voice rough as gravel, pushing off the wall. "We gotta talk."

"Not now," Ryan muttered, stepping past, but Tyrone sidled in front, blocking him, his bulk a wall of filth.

"Nah, now," he said, exhaling smoke into Ryan's face, eyes narrowing. "What's your deal, man? You just a pussy, or you one'a them freaks who gets off watchin' men feel up his girl?"

Ryan stiffened, keys biting into his palm. "Neither," he shot back, voice tight. "Pieces of shit like you got nothing to lose--why waste my time fighting trash?"

Tyrone's laugh was a low, guttural bark, cigarette dropping to the pavement. "Trash, huh? I don't buy it. Saw you yesterday--boner poppin' while I worked my finger into her wet little cunt. You liked it, didn't ya? Hard as fuck watchin' me grope her."

The memory stung--Megan's yelp, Tyrone's glistening hand, the bulge Ryan couldn't hide. "Fuck off," he growled, shoving past, but Tyrone grabbed his arm, grip surprisingly strong.

"I'm gonna ask her, man," Tyrone said, leaning close, breath hot and sour. "Straight up--does her boy like it? And if you're lyin', if she says you don't, I'll make you pay. Maybe I'll finger her right here, see how you squirm then."

Panic surged, Ryan yanking free, heart pounding. "Stay away from her," he snapped, voice cracking, but Tyrone just grinned, stepping back with a lazy shrug.

"We'll see, pretty boy. We'll see." He shambled off, cackling into the shadows, leaving Ryan frozen, breath ragged. Ask Megan? She'd buy anything Tyrone fed her--her trust was a goddamn trap. If he pressed, if she doubted Ryan's story, the whole lie could unravel--Carson's video, the blackmail, all of it. He fumbled the keys, nearly dropping them, and bolted inside, the door slamming shut.

Megan was sprawled on the couch when Ryan pushed through the door, her legs tucked under her, still in her snug pale blue scrubs from the hospital. The living room glowed faintly with the TV's muted flicker, some cooking show she wasn't really watching, and her blonde hair spilled loose over her shoulders, a little tangled from the day. She looked up as he stepped in, her face splitting into a wide, guileless grin, eyes sparkling despite the late hour.

"Ry! Oh my goodness, you're finally home!" she chirped, bouncing to her feet, her voice bubbling with excitement. "I've been waiting forever to tell you about work today--it was huge! Sit, please, you've gotta hear this!"

Ryan dropped his bag by the door with a thud, his legs feeling like lead after the gauntlet of Carson, JP, Cory, and Tyrone. He forced a smile, thin and brittle, and sank onto the couch, the cushion sagging under him. "Yeah? What happened?" he asked, his tone flat, exhaustion and dread still clawing at him, but her brightness tugged at something--a faint curiosity he couldn't kill.

She plopped down beside him, keeping that careful inch of space between them, her hands clasped tight in her lap like she could barely contain herself. "Okay, so it was the best day ever at work--like, maybe the biggest in my whole career so far! Kevin called me into his office this morning, and I thought, 'Oh no, am I in trouble?' But no--he gave me this super special job! And guess what? I got a huge raise out of it! Like, tons of money saved for them, and now I'm, like, a hero or something!"

Her giggle was pure, childlike, and she rocked forward, eyes wide with pride. "Isn't that amazing, Ry? I mean, we can maybe fix the faucet now, or--or get better groceries! I couldn't believe it when he told me. I'm still all shaky about it!"

Ryan's fingers dug into the couch, Tyrone's threat--"I'll ask her"--and Carson's "tomorrow night" still pounding in his skull. But her joy was infectious, a flicker of normalcy in the mess, and despite the torment, a part of him--masochistic, maybe--wanted to know. "That's... wow, Megs. Big day. How'd you pull that off?" he asked, voice low, bracing for the jealousy he knew was coming, unable to stop himself.

She beamed, scooting closer, her innocence radiating. "Okay, so Kevin says there's this patient--Crazy Carl, he's really old, like eighty, I think--in the special wing. He's all wild and yelling, and Kevin goes, 'Megan, you're perfect for this 'cause pretty girls calm him down.' And he told me to do what I did with Marvin--you know, that nice bath thing I told you about? Where I took my top off to keep from getting wet?"

Ryan's stomach twisted, the memory of Marvin's shaky hands on her bare skin flashing hot and bitter, but he nodded, throat tight. "Yeah, I remember."

"So I go in, and Carl's, like, swinging at this orderly, Tom--poor guy was all sweaty trying to hold him! I told Tom to go, and I took off my scrub top--and my bra too, 'cause Carl was just too jumpy to even get near the tub. And, Ry, it was so funny--soon as I did that, he stopped! Just sat there staring at me with this big, silly smile, like I was his favorite nurse ever." She giggled again, mimicking Carl's goofy grin, her hands fluttering as she acted it out, oblivious to Ryan's knuckles whitening on the cushion.

"Then I helped him out of his gown to get him in the water, and--oh my gosh, Ry, you won't believe this--his, um, his dick was so big! Like, fourteen inches long! I've never seen anything like it, hanging there all huge, and his, uh, balls were like grapefruits! I just said, 'Wow, you're a big boy,' 'cause it was so surprising, but I stayed calm and got him in the tub, started washing him with the soap."

Ryan's breath hitched, the image searing--her small hands on that monster, her chest bare, her voice so chipper about it. "Yeah?" he croaked, barely audible, jealousy simmering under his skin.

"Uh-huh! But then he kept getting all wiggly, splashing water everywhere, and he'd grab my hands and pull them to his, um, dick. I tried to just wash his arms and stuff, but he wouldn't stay still--he started yelling 'Lips!' over and over, like he was asking for you know what. And I thought, 'Ry would actually like that!' You know, from Saturday? And Carl's this old, kinda dirty guy, all senile and messy, and I know you're into that too, right? So I figured... if you were there, you would want me to do it.... for you."

She tilted her head, eyes searching his, earnest and unguarded. "So I, um, I put my mouth on it--just a little at first, then kept going down to test myself, probably like seven inches, 'cause it was just so big, a real test! And he calmed right down, Ry! It was easy, and he, uh, he finished really fast--way more than I thought an old guy could produce! I swallowed it all, 'cause I didn't want a mess, and it was comical how much there was."

Ryan's head spun, her innocence twisting the lewdness into something almost absurd, Tyrone's threat roaring louder in his ears. She kept going, oblivious, her voice light as air.

"I got back to the real work, but he didn't stay calm for long--he kept getting, um, big again, splashing more. It took a few times... Four! Ry, four! By the third, my jaw was so sore, and I remembered Saturday--what the boys made me do while trying to take them when they were being a bit rough. They taught me to rub my clit to get into it, and it really helped me get through it and even enjoy it. So I pulled my scrubs down a tiny bit, got going, and it worked! Made me all tingly, took the ache away. And the fourth time, I felt so good--like, fireworks good--right when he shot off to, something about drinking cum really intensifies my own climax, and on top of that, I basically got paid to get off!"

She clapped her hands, grinning wide, pride blooming. "Kevin saw it all on the camera later and said I saved them so much money--Carl's, um, those grapefruit parts went back to normal size, and they didn't need some expensive doctor to look at his oversized balls anymore! He gave me a huge raise, Ry! It's all 'cause I went with your little fetish--your friends made me brave enough to try it, and it turned into the best day ever at work! Thank you, Ry--I owe you big for that!"

Ryan stared, her words a gut punch--fourteen inches, four loads, her cumming with some filthy old man's cum going down her throat, all framed as a sweet gift for him. Jealousy burned white-hot, Tyrone's "I'll ask her," Carson's plans, her pure, clueless gratitude crashing over him like a wave. It was too much--he couldn't take another second and had to get out of there in a way to avoid suspicion of his pain. "Megs, that's... God, you're turning me on so much," he blurted, half turth spilling out, a desperate bid to escape the flood. "I need to--uh--go watch that video again. Just a minute, okay?"