Catching The Boss's Wife

Elias Cash, the trusty personal assistant, rolls up to his boss's swanky pad to snag some work docs. Door's unlocked—classic rich guy move—so he slips inside. Then he hears these weird moans drifting from the living room. Heart pounding, he creeps toward the noise and bam, there she is: Athena Anderson, boss's hot-as-hell wife, buck naked on a mattress, slick and shiny like she's mid-something wild. She spots him, freezes for a sec, then her eyes light up with mischief. 'Hey, Elias,' she purrs, 'I need a guinea pig for this new massage trick I'm trying. How about I practice a slippery Nuru on you?' Elias's jaw drops, brain short-circuiting, but his body's already perking up. He stammers no, says he gotta bolt with those papers before the boss notices the delay. But Athena's not having it. She saunters closer, all sultry curves, stroking his ego like it's her job. 'You bust your ass for my husband every damn day. Time you got a real reward.' He wavers, cheeks flushing, cock twitching in his pants. Then she seals the deal: 'I'll tell him you pitched in around the house—promise I'll make it glow.' Elias grins, cocky edge creeping in. 'Yeah, screw it, I do deserve a break.' Off come the clothes, and damn, there he stands, ready for action. Athena slathers on the gel, her hands gliding everywhere—chest, thighs, teasing that growing hard-on. It's intimate as fuck; Elias squirms, mortified by how rock-solid he's getting. Athena's breathing heavy now, her own heat building. 'No shame in that, stud,' she whispers, eyes locked on his. 'Let's make this massage unforgettable—flip over and fuck me like you mean it.' He doesn't need telling twice.