Promoted to the CEO's Cock (2/2)

A year had passed, and Krystal barely remembered the man she used to be. James—who? Thoughts of quarterly earnings reports and corporate politics had long since been replaced by lingerie shopping and perfecting her makeup routine. The ambitious schemer climbing the corporate ladder had been replaced by a devoted trophy wife who spent her days sinking down on the CEO’s cock—and loving every second of it. Mr. Davenport wasn’t just her husband; he was her everything.

Today, she strutted into the office on her husband’s request, her towering black stilettos clicking against the polished floor. The soft sway of her hips and the rhythmic bounce of her perfectly rounded ass drew every pair of eyes in the building, even as whispers and snickers followed her wake. Her old coworkers still hadn’t gotten used to seeing the once-proud James reduced to... this. But Krystal didn’t care. Their giggles didn’t sting; if anything, they fueled her confidence. She belonged to Mr. Davenport now, and she loved it.

Her skimpy black dress, so tight it could have been painted on, hugged every curve of her surgically perfected body. The plunging neckline barely contained her ample breasts, and the hem rode so high it gave teasing glimpses of the soft curve of her ass with every step. She knew exactly what she was doing, offering just enough of a tease to leave mouths watering.

Without a word, she pushed open the double doors to Davenport’s office and stepped inside, shutting them behind her with a decisive click. Her heart raced, and heat pooled between her legs as she turned to see him seated at his desk, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto her.

“I need you,” she purred, her voice dripping with need. Her manicured fingers toyed with the straps of her dress as she let it fall to the floor in one smooth motion, leaving her in nothing but her garter belt and heels. She saw his lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he stood, already unbuckling his belt.

Moments later, she was pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. Her breasts squished against the cool glass, her nipples hardening at the sensation. Her manicured nails clacked against the surface as she arched her back, wiggling her ass playfully.

“You’re such a good little slut, Krystal,” Davenport growled, his large hands gripping her hips. She could feel the tip of his cock teasing her entrance, making her gasp and moan as she pushed her ass back toward him, begging for more.

When he thrust into her, she let out a shameless cry of pleasure that echoed through the office. Each powerful motion sent her body rocking against the window, her breasts flattening against the glass with every thrust. The heat of his body against hers, the way he took complete control—it was everything she craved.

“Oh, you feel so good,” she moaned, her reflection in the glass showing the flush spreading across her cheeks. Her long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, and her mascara began to smudge as tears of ecstasy welled in her eyes. She didn’t care about the mess—nothing else mattered but pleasing him.

With each thrust, he pushed her closer to the edge, and she cried out his name over and over, her voice trembling with pure need. Her body shook as she reached her peak, her moans turning into breathless gasps as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

Finally, he buried himself inside her one last time, his grip tightening as he filled her with everything he had. The sharp slap of his hand against her ass made her squeal in delight as he pulled away, leaving her panting and utterly satisfied.

“You’ve outdone yourself, my girl,” he said, his tone smug but affectionate. “You really are the perfect little slut of a wife.”

Krystal turned to face him, her lips curling into a dazed, blissful smile. “Anything for you,” she whispered, her voice soft and dreamy, her cheeks still flushed from the passion.

As she stood and began redressing, slipping back into her heels and smoothing out her tight dress, she could still feel his cum dripping from her ass. She clenched instinctively, trying to keep it inside, savoring the sensation with a shiver. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting anything else but this—serving him, pleasing him, being his.

She caught her reflection in the window as she adjusted her hair and makeup, fixing the smudged mascara around her eyes. She’d come so far, transformed completely, and she was exactly where she wanted to be.

This wasn’t a demotion—it was the promotion of a lifetime.