Speaker 1: The warehouse never slept, but at eleven forty seven pm,
Speaker 1: it finally sounded tired, just the low hum of refrigeration
Speaker 1: units and the occasional clank of a pallette settling. Everyone
Speaker 1: else had gone home hours ago to protect their bonuses
Speaker 1: before tomorrow's surprise audit, everyone except Brian and Serena. Brian
Speaker 1: found her in the far back corner Aisle nineteen, the
Speaker 1: one nobody ever used, because the overhead light flickered like
Speaker 1: it was personally offended. Serena sat cross legged on a
Speaker 1: flattened cardboard box laptop, balanced on her thighs, black tank top,
Speaker 1: writing high enough to flash the lacy edge of her
Speaker 1: bra whenever she leaned forward to type. What are you
Speaker 1: still doing here? He asked. She didn't look up, writing
Speaker 1: dragon smut you looking for you? That made her fingers pause.
Speaker 1: She glanced up, eyes catching the sickly fluorescent glow. Thought
Speaker 1: you hated inventory week? I do, but I like you
Speaker 1: more than I hate corporate. A slow smile curved her mouth.
Speaker 1: Flattery will get you everywhere, forklift boy. He stepped closer,
Speaker 1: boots quiet on the concrete, Read me something. Serena bit
Speaker 1: her lip, then turned the screen so he could see.
Speaker 1: He pinned her against the crate wall, the rough wood
Speaker 1: biting into her back while his hand slid between her thighs.
Speaker 1: She was already soaked for him, had been since the
Speaker 1: moment he cornered her like prey. Quiet, he growled against
Speaker 1: her throat. The auditors are two aisles over. Brian's pulse
Speaker 1: kicked hard. Jesus Serena too much, she asked, voice husky,
Speaker 1: keep going, she did, out loud, while he stood there,
Speaker 1: getting painfully hard in his work jeans. When she reached
Speaker 1: the part where the heroine drops to her knees behind
Speaker 1: a stack of televisions, Brian couldn't take it any more.
Speaker 1: He hauled her up, spun her, and kissed her like
Speaker 1: he'd been starving for it. She tasted like cherry lip,
Speaker 1: balm and sin. Clothes came off in frantic stages. His
Speaker 1: shirt yanked over his head, her tank top peeled away.
Speaker 1: Brash shoved down instead of off because neither of them
Speaker 1: had patience. Her breasts spilled heavy into his palms, nipples
Speaker 1: tight and begging. He groaned against her neck. Somewhere in
Speaker 1: the distance, the intercom crackled unannounced audit and progress all
Speaker 1: personnel remain available for questioning. They froze, lips still touching,
Speaker 1: breathing ragged. Serena's eyes went one shit. Brian grinned like
Speaker 1: a devil. You wrote this scene, Remember getting fucked while
Speaker 1: the auditors circle like sharks. She laughed, breathless, reckless, and
Speaker 1: reached for his belt. Then let's give the fantasy a
Speaker 1: live reading. Jeans hit the floor, Her leggings followed. He
Speaker 1: lifted her onto a waist high palette of boxed air fryers,
Speaker 1: shoved her thighs apart, and sank two fingers into slick
Speaker 1: heat that made them both moan too loud. Sh She
Speaker 1: hissed even as she rolled her hips against his hand.
Speaker 1: He replaced fingers with cock in one smooth thrust that
Speaker 1: buried him to the hilt. Serena's head fell back, mouth
Speaker 1: open in a silent scream. He clamped a hand over it,
Speaker 1: just like in her story, and fucked her hard, fast, filthy.
Speaker 1: Every slap of skin echoed like a gunshot in the
Speaker 1: empty warehouse. She came first, clenching around him so tight
Speaker 1: his vision whited out. He followed seconds later, pulsing deep
Speaker 1: inside her while footsteps and clipboard voices drifted closer than
Speaker 1: farther away. They stayed locked together, panting until the adrenaline
Speaker 1: ebbed and the laughter bubbled up. We're so fired, she
Speaker 1: whispered against his shoulder. Worth it. They found their clothes
Speaker 1: eventually strewn across three aisles like a pornographic treasure hunt,
Speaker 1: and snuck out just before dawn. The termination letters were
Speaker 1: waiting in their lockers the next morning, matching pink slips,
Speaker 1: matching grins. Six months later, the stream chat scrolled at
Speaker 1: warp speed, one hundred eighty thousand viewers. Dragon Smut Queen
Speaker 1: and Forklift King just funded my rent dropped the sex
Speaker 1: tape all ready. Serena leaned into frame, wearing one of
Speaker 1: Brian's old warehouse hoodies and nothing else. She smirked at
Speaker 1: the camera. Chapter one of the new book goes live
Speaker 1: at midnight. It's about a phoenix thief who keeps letting
Speaker 1: the Dragon Horde keeper catch her. Very autobiographical Brian's hand
Speaker 1: slid up her bare thigh just out of frame, and
Speaker 1: we're celebrating with a twenty four hour charity stream. Every
Speaker 1: five thousand dollars raised, we read the spiciest scene live.
Speaker 1: Clothing optional, the donations exploded. Later, lights off city glow,
Speaker 1: painting stripes across their bed. Serena traced the line of
Speaker 1: his jaw. We got fired for fucking in a warehouse.
Speaker 1: He kissed her, slow and deep. Best career move we
Speaker 1: ever made. She rolled on top of him, him knees
Speaker 1: bracketing his hips, already wet again. Round two, he gripped
Speaker 1: her ass and pulled her down hard on to his cock.
Speaker 1: We don't punch a clock any more, baby, We can
Speaker 1: go all night, and they did.