4:55 PM, according to the clock on his screen. Five more minutes ‘til he could clock out, head home, and flop on his couch with an insta-heat meal and some prime-time TV.

An animated 2D sprite of an eevee dashed across his screen, chasing a similarly pixelated butterfree. Ruben followed it with his cursor, clicking the flop-eared pokémon, causing the sprite to stop running and face outwards, a little speech bubble popping up with, "Vee!" In the corner of his screen, a counter ticked over, indicating a new egg in his daycare. Pokéclicker wasn't much of a 'game', per se, but it made for a better on-screen time waster than staring at his inbox waiting for a new task to come in. Plus he could easily alt-tab away if a manager came sniffing about his cubicle.

His chair squeaked as he swiveled back and forth, his hand moving to chase down a herdier sniffing along the outer edges of the window. Technically speaking, he could get a head start on next week's laundry list of maintenance tasks—they had two new clients due to receive backup service starting Monday, and they'd need to build the framework for it—but he hadn't been told to do so. Starting something new just before quitting time would be bad procrastination form.

4:56. He checked the daycare screen, making sure all of his incubators were occupied. One of them was almost ready to hatch! With any luck, he'd get some kind of dragon type, and— 

Bwa-da-da-da!

The tinny fanfare from his computer speakers came with a popup from his email app, indicating a new message. Subject: Dude!

Rolling his eyes, Ruben clicked the popup.

 

            From: [email protected]

            Subject: Dude!

 

            Hey, quit jerking off over there. Boss is on her way, and she looks pissed.

 

            -C

 

Shit. He tabbed back to Clicker, closed it, and just to be safe, killed the process. Chances were their manager wouldn't notice the little taskbar egg icon, but… She wasn't one who looked kindly upon time wasting at work. The jolt of adrenaline perked his ears to muffled footfalls on carpet, steadily approaching his cube. Shit shit shit. He tabbed back to his email, deleted the message from Calvin, and spun around in his chair with the screen open to the email app just as two firm knocks sounded on the fabric-covered wall of the cubicle.

"Excuse me, Mr. Nikos."

"Hello, Miss Thorn. Come on in."

A pointed, cerulean snout poked around the corner of the wall, followed by a wide face crowned by two central horns, ears like twin satellite dishes, and round-framed spectacles perched on the bridge of the muzzle. Azure eyes blinked at him over the rims of her glasses. If he didn't know better, he'd think she looked sleepy, but all members of the IT floor knew just how sharp that gaze was.

"Done everything for today?"

"Yeah." He nodded back at his screen, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back in his chair. "Logged it in TaskTracker of course, but finished tidying up the bugs in that POS inventory management system shipping and receiving handed us." He shrugged. "Dunno why they wanted to modify a third party solution instead of letting us build it from the ground up. Would have been ten times easier."

The nidoqueen nodded, and for the thousandth time, Ruben marvelled at how the motion failed to dislodge the spectacles from her snout with no arms to hold them in place. Were they magnetized there somehow? Was it simply a pressure-fit? "Good. It's ready for acceptance testing then."

"I don't think it needs it honestly. The deploy validated with no issues."

"You already deployed it?!"

The sharpness of her tone twisted his guts, reeling his balls up in a defensive maneuver, but he maintained his grin. "No, just validated. It's ready whenever." 

 Another nod, the twin lasers of her gaze powering down from seek-and-destroy to lazy scanning. "Fine then. You do good work, but we still need to follow the steps, alright? And you're right—but it would cost us twice as much too."

He gave a noncommittal shrug and waited. Eventually, she'd get to the point of why she was detaining him while everyone else made their escape out into the world of weekend bliss.

"Before you leave, I have something to discuss with you."

Danger, danger. New workload incoming! Ruben raised his eyebrows. "Okay?"

"In my office, please."

God fucking… She was already withdrawing from the entry to his cube, indicating he should follow with a wave of her paw. Annoyance bubbled over, and he couldn't hold back as he stood up, blood rushing back into his calves after being seated for so long. "You could have sent an email to tell me that."

"Of course, but you know me. I prefer the personal touch." 

Muting his grumbles to hopefully inaudible levels, even with his boss's exceptional hearing, Ruben took a moment to shut down his workstation—it was now 5:02! This was officially overtime—then followed, swiping his jacket from the back of his chair. No need for walking all the way back here after… whatever this was.

Miss Thorn was halfway down the path between the cubes—rubix road, as they called it—headed for her office on the opposite side of the floor. Ruben shuffled after her, keeping his stride reigned in enough to not overtake his shorter-legged boss, while inwardly chafing at the additional inconvenience. ‘Personal touch’ his ass. She just wanted to make sure he knew who held the leash here.

It wasn't as if she needed to prove herself, though there were probably a few people who held sour grapes at being under a pokémon boss. By and large though, most of the staff held the impression that Miss Thorn was "alright" as far as tyrannical overlords went. Just make sure not to cross her, and you'd better not push your own code to master without a fucking review.

On the way, they passed the elevator lobby, just as the doors were closing. Calvin waved at him from inside, following up with a blown kiss. The metal walls lid together before Ruben could flip him off.

"Plans for the weekend?"

Ruben blinked, focusing back on their glorious leader. She hadn't turned around, tossing the smalltalk over her shoulder like so many breadcrumbs to lead him on.

"Nothing special. Relax, game. The usual."

"That's good. It's important to take time to do something unproductive once in a while."

Ruben grunted. Each step swayed her hips and seesawed her thick tail back and forth, nearly battering the partitions they were passing. The motion seemed calculated by natural design to draw the eye to her rear. Not a bad view honestly, though he'd never be dumb enough to say so.

No. Bad. That was get-him-fired thinking. He dragged his gaze up and pinned it between her shoulder blades. From behind, he could see the small black nub of her translator clipped to her left ear, and the two thin gold chains she wore looped around her ear spikes: jewelry made specifically for pokémon, an industry all to itself, and the only thing she wore that could be classified as 'clothing' other than her glasses.

No, no, no. Dammit, pants, stop that right now! This wasn't that kind of situation! Just because a pokémon didn't wear anything didn't mean they wanted the D. It was normal for them!

He caught up to her as she opened the door to her office, and walked inside at her behest.

"Please have a seat."

The door clicked shut as he moved to the two thinly padded chairs situated in front of the wide mahogany desk dominating the room. He pulled one out and sat, bracing an elbow on its arm and glancing out the floor-to-ceiling window bank. Twenty floors up offered a decent view over Castelia, including a glimmer of the harbour. Must be nice to have that on a daily basis instead of the bland walls of a cube. Gave a sensation of being above it all.

Miss Thorn swept around the desk in his peripheral, took a moment to arrange her tail appropriately, then dropped herself into a considerably nicer chair than the one back at his cube. The air whooshed from its cushion in protest, but it didn't so much as squeak as she rolled it forward to the desk and picked up a file folder. She flipped it open and peered into it, her eyes narrowing, then focusing back on him.

"Mr. Nikos, why do you think you're here?"

He made a show of turning to face her, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands across his chest. "A bit late in the week for deep philosophy, boss."

"Humour me."

"Is it to award me employee of the month?"

A soft snort, and the corners of her muzzle twitched. "No."

He shrugged. "If it's not to commend my incredible work ethic and contributions to the team, then I've got nothin'."

She put the folder down and slid it across the desk toward him. A narrow gold rope bracelet dangled from her wrist, matching her ear decorations. "I'd like you to take a look at this, please."

What was she playing at? Another task list? He grabbed the folder and opened it, scanning the single sheet of paper inside. Not a task list, a list of URLs, and…

Oh shit.

"I see by the expression on your face that you understand, Mr. Nikos. You are well aware of my views on wasting company time and resources."

Her blue lasers were back on, burning a path into his soul. He swallowed. It wasn't over yet, he could talk his way out of this. "I think there's some mistake."

Now it was her turn to lean back in her chair, resting her paws on its arms, her mouth quirking ever so briefly. "Is that so? Explain."

Keep it cool, keep it cool. Ignoring the sweat rolling down the back of his neck, he said, "I'm not sure where any of this is coming from. You can check my browser logs if you want. They're clean, and not wiped."

"I'm sure they are." Was this what it felt like to be a caterpie stalked by a pidgeot? He'd never had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of her ire before, and it didn't strike him as a must-have life experience so far. "How long have you worked at this company, Mr. Nikos?"

"Three years."

"Interesting. That's right, I recall you mentioning you'd been here for about a year when we first met." She turned to her monitor, which was set at an angle on the desk, and moved the mouse, opening something on screen. "Your track record is quite good. Solid code work, and you meet your deadlines in reasonable fashion. A handful of missed launch windows, but that's nothing major—everyone has those."

"Is this a performance review?"

"No. My point is, you're a good employee."

"...Thanks?"

"You're welcome." Zap. The eye-beams zeroed back in on his face. "But this isn't the sort of thing I can easily overlook. It's a violation of company policy."

"Okay, but I thought we established that this…" he waved the paper. "Isn't mine." Thank god she wasn't a psychic type. It was technically illegal for them to read minds without consent, but everyone knew that the good ones could pick out what they wanted unnoticed.

"Have we now? Then please explain this." She reached out and turned her monitor to face him. An activity log sprawled across the screen—the list of requests to the IT floor's wifi router. A section of it had been highlighted, drawing his eye.

IP: 182.85.90.05 10:12:42.765 hostname: "www.wildpokes.com"

IP: 182.85.90.05 10:31:26.183 hostname: "www.VioletEnterprises.com/archive/free"

IP: 182.85.90.05 11:05:11.824 hostname: "www.milf.chu.hot"

"Uh, I'm not sure how this connects to me."

"You see, Mr. Nikos, unlike some managers, I was not selected for this position merely for administration skills. As an IT department manager, it is quite important for me to be on equal footing with the knowledge of my subordinates, wouldn't you say?"

"Of course, I wasn't suggesting—"

"What brand of phone do you have, Mr. Nikos?"

Busted. The corners of her mouth were twitching again, but it didn't do much to calm the squirming in his guts. Made it worse, in fact. Keeping his face as neutral as possible, he withdrew his phone from his pocket and laid it on the desk. A sleek black and silver square of incrimination. "Nova 5."

"Interesting." She didn't reach for the device, instead moving her mouse up and clicking to a new application tab—a browser window. MacTracker.org. "Were you aware that manufacturers assign all units of a production run the same first six MAC digits?"

"Yeah."

"I've already checked which MAC address leased that IP, and I think you know what I would find by the serial number of your phone, correct?"

The air leaked from his lungs like a popped balloon. "...Yeah."

"Do I need to do that?"

He shook his head, the sensation of joltiks scrabbling about beneath his skin leading him to fidget. Grabbing his phone and hiding it back in his pocket helped disguise the nerves. "How..."

"I have a script that alerts me to guest devices on our network. A lot of times it's nothing. But this..."

Ruben tried to look away, but that blue railgun stare wouldn't allow it. "Why not just block them? I always thought it was weird that the Wifi wasn't security controlled like the intranet is."

"We could of course, but that would only encourage all of you wizards to find some way around it. This way, I can keep tabs on who, what, and when. Several of these requests fell suspiciously in line with your lunch and washroom breaks, according to your clicktracker log."

"Okay, fine, you got me." He threw up his hands. "I've done some naughty browsing. It hasn't affected my work, has it? I've never done anything to compromise our server integrity, and all of my uh… activity, has been while I'm stuck waiting for a compile or deploy, or while on break."

"True." Her claws drummed on the desk like so many tiny gavels. "There is the looming question of distractions while at work of course, but your track record does speak for itself. I think you might examine your initiative a bit more closely if you want to advance, but that's besides the point." She reached out, leaned across the desk and plucked the paper from his fingers. "The problem here isn't so much that you're using work time as personal browsing time, so much as what it is you're browsing. Are you familiar with the company policy on indecent conduct?"

It had probably been somewhere in his contract, long since signed and never fully perused. He shrugged. "C'mon… It's not like I'm harassing anyone, or showing up with no pants." More than she could say.

"Perhaps, but the policy is quite clear. No porn at work. Ever. A lot of that is to do with the spyware issues of course, and this is on your personal device at least; however, I still am technically supposed to suspend you and write an official reprimand."

Unbelievable. Ruben shook his head, his jaw tightening. "Fine, whatever. Do what you've gotta do I guess, and I'll promise to keep it clean." Or at least to remember to disconnect from the WiFi before exploring any such sites. "Anything else, or may I go?"

"Not yet. You see, there's an important factor here that I can't ignore."

She wanted to discipline him? Fine. Damn the torpedoes. He glared right back into those twin lasers. "Yeah? What's that?"

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. There was no twitch this time, her muzzle splitting in a grin. "You have excellent taste, Mr. Nikos."

He blinked. "Huh?"

The nidoqueen glanced down at the paper again, reading from it like a shopping list. "Linoone.com, Violet Enterprises, baddragonite, m8chan… followed by some site specific tag searches for "Large Female" and "BBP". I checked a few of the resolution addresses too. That feraligatr video was… quite something. She looks very talented."

"Uh… Sure." Was he being pranked right now? Was a camera crew going to jump out from behind the potted plant? "What are you getting at?"

"There are two ways this can go down, Mr. Nikos. The first involves you going home now, and me spending extra time on my Friday writing a reprimand letter, then being short a key staff member during a major service rollout next week."

Oh yes, because this was such an inconvenience to her. He held his tongue. "And the second?"

"Is more interesting, involving you and I exploring the mutually relevant interest we appear to share."

This had to be a prank. He looked at the plant and waved. "Okay, you can come out now. You got me. Very funny."

Miss Thorn chuckled. "It's only us here, Mr. Nikos."

He met her gaze, which had reverted to its semi-narcoleptic state, though a new gleam simmered beneath those half-closed lids. "Okay, let me see if I've got this straight. You caught me browsing poké-smut at work. And you're threatening to report me for it, unless I… what? Have sex with you?"

"That sounds about right, aside from the 'threat' part. There's no threat, merely a statement of what will happen, as per policy."

"This… this is power harassment!"

She propped her chin on one paw, the smirk widening on her muzzle. "Oh no dear, I assure you it's purely sexual. Of course, if you'd rather we go through the protocols and take this whole business to HR…"

A shiver ran down his spine. "Dear, huh? Did we just skip first name basis?"

"Would you prefer I chose a different affectation? Maybe… Pet? The guy with that feraligatr seemed to like that."

Holy fuck… What was realistically the worst that could happen if he refused? It would go on his record of course, and he'd lose some pay with the suspension. But, all the nightmare stories he'd heard about employees screwing their bosses… She'd have him over a much bigger barrel. On the other hand, she'd seen his browsing history, and knew he didn't find her personality repulsive. At least he hadn't searched for anything nidoqueen related today; she had enough ammo already.

He swallowed. "So uh… If we do this… What does it mean? Do we start dating or something?"

Her guffaw made him jump, the rich baritone reverberating off the windows. "Oh Arceus no. Not that I'm opposed to the idea, you understand, but this isn't an offer of a relationship. I have needs too, Mr. Nikos, and I think you're just the man to satisfy them right now." She waved the sheet of paper. "They just happen to conveniently align with an excuse to… overlook this little indiscretion. We could call it a minor misdemeanour, say that you and I had a productive coaching session about it."

Ruben started to nod, checked himself, and said, "A one-time fling then. No strings attached?"

"Not one." Her ears twitched, and for an instant, the laserbeams returned. "During work hours, we are professional, and nothing we do now or in the future changes that. Clear?"

"Exceedingly."

"Good." She stood up, her height enough to loom over him while he was seated, though normally he topped her by at least a foot. Turning, she sauntered to the windows and looked out at the city. The orange hues of sunset framed her, accenting her curvaceous figure with a tangerine nimbus as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I'm not about to do anything without your consent. If you walk out of here right now, I'll understand, and this conversation never happened. But I still need to follow procedure." Her tail flicked, raising ever so slightly and presenting a tease of the sandstone hues tucked between her thighs. "What do you say?"

Damn it was difficult to meet her eyes with that swaying tail all but begging him to ogle her backside. He made the effort, though her smirk made it clear she knew it was an effort. How to respond? Despite his browsing history, he'd never done anything with a pokémon before. It wasn't as if he knew many of them on a personal basis, and the idea of going to some seedy brothel had never appealed to him. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime offer! On the other hand, she was almost coercing him, even if it was no more than using his own stupidity against him. Then again, she could've simply written him up and not made the offer at all. She wanted this. She wanted him. 

Fuck it.

He nodded.

"Very good." Her tail rose, and in a violent motion, she skewered the printout on its tip with the staccato shriip of sundered paper. "Oops. Clumsy me. That was my only copy too."

Ruben's heart thundered in his chest. He stood and began to unbutton his shirt, exposing the plain gray undershirt beneath, his dark wiry chest bush curling over the collar.

"Mmm, leave that on, please. I happen to like a man in uniform." Chuckling, she sashayed back to her chair, beckoning him around the desk.

He shrugged, refraining from pointing out that the 'uniform' was no more than a cheap dress shirt and slacks—sans tie, thank god for casual work dress codes—and followed her.

A flick of her tail sent the paper flying as she seated herself, keeping to the edge of the chair and rolling back from the desk slightly. She planted her feet, spreading her hefty thighs wide in a welcoming pose familiar across bipedal species. Two segments of scaled sandstone hide crossed lower part of her belly, a mirror of the sections on her chest and below her jaw, its surface appearing as tough as her cerulean plating everywhere else.

Normally when she stood or sat, the natural contours of her body hid her sex from view. Now, Ruben was treated to a side of his boss he’d never seen before. Two neat folds in that hide lay exposed——soft horizontal lips budding with a hint of moisture—along with a smaller bud tucked nearer to her tailbase.

Smirking up at him, she patted her knee, almost as if she were offering him a seat instead of lewdly displaying herself. "Do you need an overview of my expectations?"

"Ah, no… I think I've got it." The urge to run his hands all along those delightful curves tugged him closer. What did she feel like?

"Wonderful. Hop to it then!"

"Yes… Ma'am." His pants were growing rather uncomfortable, and he adjusted things into a more agreeable arrangement before sinking to his knees on the plastic carpet-guard and shuffling between those inviting thighs. His chin came up to her midriff, and the scent of her—a hint of citrus from a light perfume, and something like sandalwood—permeated his nose. He raised his quivering hands to her belly and gave an exploratory squeeze. Firm resistance, cool, bumpy hide, and a soft giggle.

"That tickles."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. This is your first time with one of us, isn't it?"

"If by ‘us’ you mean ’pokémon’ then yeah. I uh… Don't get out that much." Rubbing in small circles, he navigated from belly to sides, the pebbled sandstone surface giving way to smoother plates. Tough, yet with a give to them suggesting squeezable softness beneath.

“I’m curious. What’s the attraction for you? I’ve heard different things from different people.”

“Honestly? I dunno. I like humans too.” He tried trailing his nails across her midriff, but it failed to provoke a reaction. Her hide must not be terribly sensitive then. “I think part of it is the variety, both in shape,” A squeeze at her hips provoked a grunt, “and in the fun bits.”

"Mmm. I'm just glad we can screw humans now without all that ‘it's illegal’ tauros-shit. Only took ten years of us being able to communicate freely to do it. Got any questions?"

So many, but it seemed immature to start bombarding her. "Do you uh…" He nodded down. "Work pretty much the same way?"

"From what I've heard? Yes, even though it faces the other way. Whatever skills you have should be, ah, transferable." She laughed. "The last man I was with asked the same, and then seemed extremely baffled by my clit. No wonder he'd been dumped by his girlfriend."

Ruben winced. "Some people have never heard of internet research."

"Is that what you call your browsing time? Mmm, lower please. You have good hands."

"I guess you could say I'm a bit better prepared than some." Following her directive, he slid his hands across her thighs, kneading the thick hide as best he could. It grew warmer and more pliable the closer he edged to the meeting point, until his fingertips rested at the cusp of her crotch, millimeters from that inviting slit. "May I?"

"I'd be rather upset if you didn't."

He had to laugh at that. "Still polite to ask." Good thing he'd trimmed his nails recently. Running the pad of his thumb along the upper lip of her delicate opening, he parted it slightly, revealing a rosy swatch of intimate flesh. Heat pulsed beneath his touch, and the aroma of sandalwood wafted up with a heady touch of salt tang.

A tiny bead of fluid glistened on her lower vulva, promising a smooth welcome to her prospective lover. Hot damn. He collected it with his thumb, caressing the breadth of her petals and teasing across her entrance. Slow, careful circles, ignoring the throb in his own pants. The hitch in her breath was a good sign, but he hadn't found what he was after yet. He'd seen this horizontal orientation before in his ‘research’, but those sessions weren't exactly anatomy lessons. That feraligatr video though… she'd really gone nuts when the guy had pushed deeper inside. He wriggled his forefinger in, probing gently around that delightful spongy heat.

Miss Thorn's thighs twitched. "Higher up, in the middle."

Ah! A firm bud caught his fingertip, eliciting a grunt from the nidoqueen. Grinning, he circled it, the slickness of her inner walls gliding along his skin. Those walls clenched, briefly pinning his digit, and a fresh wave of nectar dribbled down his knuckle.

"Damn… You sure you're not a water type?"

"Quiet you. It's been a while, and these aren't exactly great for what you're doing." She wiggled her stubby claws at him.

"Y'know, I've often wondered how you manage to type with those."

"That's need-to-know information." Her paw fell to the top of his head, an insistent pressure tugging him towards her. "I think I'd like a report on your fact-finding mission now."

He started to reply, but a jerk of her hips mashed his mouth and nose square into her heated snatch. Oh well. In for a penny… Extracting his fingers and bringing both hands in, he spread her lips and dug in. The alphabet wasn't much of an option here with her ventral orientation, so he settled for swirling his tongue from side to side as if trying to chase down an elusive flavour, flicking the nub of her clit with each pass. A groan rumbled through her, and the grip on his head firmed, locking him in place.

"Yes, just like that, dear…"

Certainly not how he’d planned to eat out tonight, but probably an improvement. Ruben’s  world closed in, his breath hissing through his nose as he focused on pleasuring the eager queen. The paw on his head offered no slack for his efforts, but he wasn’t looking for freedom yet. She showed her experience in allowing him room to breathe, and that was enough. It was easier too with the foreign configuration of her slit, allowing him to drink deep of her fragrance without drowning in it.

Fuck, this was hot! He was actually doing it; he was eating out a pokémon, and his boss no less! Double score on the power fantasy. Glancing up revealed her open-mouthed pleasure, those wide features hiding no secrets this time, eyes closed as she encouraged him on with small moans and little bucks of her hips. The tent in his pants strained for freedom, leaning on the primal part of his brain to leap up and drop-em, to rut this horny female silly. He swallowed, gulping down a trickle of savoury nectar. Just a bit more of this first...

A muffled thump from the hall outside. Clattering sounds. Miss Thorn stiffened. Ruben stilled his tonguework, heart pounding in his ears. Someone working late? Shit, they couldn’t be caught like this!

Click!

In a blur of speed belying her portly posture, Miss Thorn let go of his head and shoved forward in her chair, sliding him on his knees across the plastic carpet guard, his yelp muffled by her crotch. His head kissed wood—just a stinging smack, but enough to make him grunt—and he came to rest under the desk, still face-first between her thighs.

“Oh! Hello Miss Thorn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were still here.” A man’s voice, lightly accented in an East Unovan drawl. One of the cleaning crew. Ruben didn’t dare to move.

“Not a problem, Devon. Just tidying up a few things before the weekend. You know how it is.” Her thighs twitched, rolling her another inch forward, sealing away the sliver of light between her belly and the desk. “Big week coming up.” A questing paw cupped the back of his head, dragging him back to her folds with unspoken, yet inexorable demand. Did I say to fucking stop?

“Guess it isn’t all sunshine and roses at the top,” Devon replied with a chuckle. “They work ya to the bone, don’t they?” Could he see anything under the desk? No, the backing went all the way to the floor, thankfully.

“It’s partially self-inflicted. I’ve never been one to leave things half-finished if I can help it.” Clawtips pricked Ruben’s scalp, reinforcing the nidoqueen’s desires. She wanted to play this game, risk getting caught? Okay, fine. Drawing a deep breath as silently as he could, Ruben delved back in, plunging his tongue into her warmth. The mild ache in his head faded before the illicit thrill, and he wasted no time seeking out her pleasure nub, teasing it with flicks and swirls.

“I hear that. I’m a bit the same myself. Still, gotta take care of yourself, right? Leave the work at work and all that, let yourself relax.”

What was this, advice hour from the janitor? Miss Thorn shifted—a nod, perhaps hiding a shiver of pleasure—and the grip behind his ears withdrew, her paw vanishing above the desk. “Oh yes, I’m a firm believer in making time to relieve stress.” Her form shook with a chuckle. “It helps that I have reliable staff to take care of the little things while I’m otherwise indisposed.”

Damn it. He was going to make her soak his face for that. Lavishing her clit, he reached up and worked a finger in next to his tongue. He’d heard that most species had the spot, and it wasn’t all that hard to find if you knew where to look. Up behind the clit usually, and on the same side...

“I may not be one of yours, Ma’am, but if ya don’t mind me saying, I think they look up to ya. I hear things. People chatter without really thinkin’ about it when I’m around, y’know?”

A firm patch of ribbed flesh under his fingertip. A definite shudder ground his nose into her hide, coupled with a fresh coating of juice across his tastebuds. Yup, there it was. Ruben grinned, curling his finger and massaging the hidden spot. How well could she keep her composure?

“Mmm, thank you, Devon, that’s very nice to hear.” Damn, not so much as a hitch in her voice! He’d just have to try harder. “It’s rare to receive honest feedback on your management style from your staff.” She wasn’t trying to get rid of the intruder either? Maybe she was also getting off on the prospect of discovery? “So much of it is just your average lip service.”

Fuck. You. Miss. Thorn. His cock threatened to burst free of his slacks. Breath came in small pants, a half-conscious mix of stealth and need for air to fuel his ministrations, finger and tongue pumping in rhythmic counterpoint. Her dripping walls clenched,   his chin growing wet with saliva and honey. There was one other trick he could pull. Groping around with his free hand, he located the soft warmth of her other entrance, fingertips gently prodding. Apparently some species loved anal almost as much as vaginal. Was that true for her?

“Of course,” Devon said. “Everyone wants to either kiss up or keep a low profile. Just thought you should hear it straight from the mudbray’s mouth.” A laugh, echoed by a chuckle from the nidoqueen. This time, it most certainly hid a shudder of her hips. “Any road, I’ll leave ya to it and come back later to tidy up.”

“Thank you. I may be here a while, so no hurry.”

“Want me to grab your wastebasket at least?” Footsteps moved towards the desk.

“Sure.” Was she actually insane? A shuffle of motion, and then she was bending down, showing impressive flexibility for a creature of her girth, managing to keep her lower body pinned to the desk while snagging the wastebasket next to it. Her eyes met his, and she winked. She actually fucking winked. Devon’s footsteps halted no more than a few inches from Ruben’s back. The guy could probably hear the soft, wet plaps emanating from under the desk. He didn’t dare breathe, but dug in, Kalos-kissing her mound and undulating his tongue over her clit. Miss Thorn sat upright again, humping Ruben’s face in the process, and passed the basket over. “Much appreciated.”

“Not a problem ma’am.” Plastic rustled—the bag being swapped—then a rattle on the desk. “You have a great evening.”

“I most certainly will, and you as well.”

“Thank ya ma’am.” Footsteps withdrew across the room. The door creaked, then clicked shut. Outside, cart wheels squeaked, moving away.

Miss Thorn’s groan echoed Ruben’s gasp as he caught his breath. Before he could pull away to comment however, two paws seized him by the ears, yanking him back to his task.

“If you stop now I will turf your ass.” The words trembled, and despite the threat, Ruben grinned. So she had been close. By means of reply, he pressed another finger into her sodden tunnel, wriggling them in a ‘come hither’ motion. The nidoqueen bucked, the chair’s wheels clattering as it rocked, his other finger sinking inside her rear entrance. He massaged, stroked, rubbing her g-spot and urging her on to an increasingly frantic series of heavy grunts and “Yes!”s.

He was half tempted to leave her hanging, but the chance that she might follow through on her ultimatum killed that idea. Besides, that was petty, and he’d never been petty. And maybe he wanted to see her cum too. Just a little. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers, flicking his tongue over her clit while jogging his fingers.

Powerful paws seized his shoulders. Her back arched, grinding her dripping snatch into his touch as spongy walls clamped down on his digits. Nectar splashed free, once, twice, filling his senses with the taste and scent of her pleasure. Then all at once, he was free, the panting ‘queen rolling back from the desk, slumped in her chair with her legs still splayed.

Chest heaving, Ruben licked his lips, collecting some of the mess and swallowing it down. Heavier than her other emissions, with almost an elderflower taste to it—a bitter herb to complement the savoury tang. Not bad. Due to her poison typing maybe? His cheeks and chin were still damp. Fuck it. He wiped off with his sleeve. It was laundry day anyhow.

“So, I take it I can come out now?”

“Mmm. Sure.” Her paw circled her sodden folds, and the languor in her half-lidded eyes remained as she adjusted her posture to sit upright, marking the leather with a lewd stamp. “That was an acceptable start.”

Ruben rolled his eyes as he extracted himself from the desk, a groan escaping him when his knees popped. Damn, call-girls deserved medals. “Acceptable. Sure. You just creamed all over my face.”

“Which indeed meets the standard of ‘acceptable’.” Her grin had returned, and as he stood, stretching, the predatory glint sparkled among the azure. “Looks like you didn’t mind all that much. Or is that for Devon?” She pointed to his crotch.

He didn’t dignify that with a response, instead ever-so-casually adjusting his slacks while glancing down at his shirt. She’d spattered his collar too, hot damn. “I thought he’d never leave. Did you leave the door unlocked on purpose?”

“No, admittedly an oversight on my part.” She chuckled, leaning one elbow on the chair and looking him up and down. “Though he has keys, so he’d have come in regardless. He’s starting his rounds a bit early today.”

“You could’ve gotten rid of him earlier.”

“And miss out on such a lovely conversation?”

“What the fuck was all that about anyway? Were you trying to get us caught?”

“Not exactly, but it made excellent motivation for you, didn’t it?”

“You just about knocked me unconscious on the desk!”

“Aww, poor baby.” She stood, her tail slithering free of the chair to follow her as she advanced on him, managing to loom despite his advantage in height. “Want me to kiss it better?”

“Ew, no.” He made a face. “Mom roleplay is not my thing.”

“Hmm. I guess Milfchu was just a quick fap for you then.”

Ruben shifted, glancing away from those azure targeting reticles. “No, she’s just hot.”

“Yeah? You like ‘mon with wide hips?” She swayed, smacking her own said hips. “More of an ass man?”

“Both are nice.” This must be what it felt like to stare down a stalking luxray, but most of the blood from his pounding heart was still headed south.

“Afraid I can’t help you in the other department, but if you want to get more hands-on with this...” He expected her to shove him back against the desk, but she swept past him, a paw resting on her rump and a sashay in her step that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Lumiose runway. “Would getting your dick wet help stop your complaining?”

Something snapped inside him. “I’m more than half inclined to bend you over that desk right now and go to town, but I think that’s exactly what you want.”            

“Dear, if you tried to do anything I didn’t want, I could just paralyze you and sit on you.”

“Avoiding the issue.”

“Am I? Let’s give it some clarity then.” Shoving her message trays across the desk, she clambered up onto it on her belly, leaving her legs dangling. Her heavy tail rose, flaunting her assets, tan petals glistening and parting slightly to display rosy flesh. “Let’s work on managing your stress levels, hmm?”

“Oh for...” As much as he wanted to spank her for the teasing, his pants were all but emitting steam at this point, and that view... It was one thing to see it in video, even HD close-ups, but to have a lady like this, with a body like that, offering herself up to him and looking back with that little smirk and those bedroom eyes...

‘Fuck it’ seemed to be his mantra lately. His pants and underwear hit the floor an instant before his hands found her curves again, kneading and squeezing the ample expanse of her backside. His cock bounced free, throbbing to get in on the action his tongue and fingers had already experienced. Despite her pert roundness, the hide of her butt hid muscle, not fat, his thumbs meeting firm resistance as they explored and dug into her flesh.

“Ooh, that’s nice… Were you a masseuse in a former occupation?”

“Nah, just seen some tutorials.”

“Technology is a wonderful thing.” She wriggled, her tail drooping to rest over his shoulder—a comfortable weight, and a nice option to grab onto. “Not that I’m asking you to stop, but you must be all but blue-balled right now. Why not get one out of your system and then continue while you rest up?”

If only her suggestions weren’t so darned practical! Maintaining palmfuls of nidoqueen posterior, he lined himself up, prodding her damp folds. The desk put her at just about the perfect height, her slit neatly aligned with his hips. A bit of tip-toeing maybe, but nothing to complain about. He leaned forward, sinking halfway into that welcome heat, silken flesh parting easily then grabbing tight. Oh hell... He’d almost forgotten how much better girls were than a hand, and the familiar sensations of slick folds sliding against his flesh combined with her foreign contours and texture, creating a unique, erotic delight.

“That’s it. It’s okay if you don’t last more than a few seconds hon. Don’t worry about me right now.”

Ruben glared into her lazy grin, following up with a sharp thrust that buried him to the hilt and earned him little more than a soft grunt. Why did she have to be right? Pride demanded that he achieve the impossible dream of thrusting like a pornstar with the self-control of a celibate monk, yet his balls churned, his member straining to let loose and complete the mission to empty the payload. Those wonderful velvet walls flexed, coaxing, too-long delayed pleasure searing up his spine. What kind of godly control did she have? If he simply stood here balls deep, she could probably milk it out of him!

But what was the fun in that? He let go of her ass to hug her tail, and gave libido the wheel. Wild, jerking thrusts, his desperation giving him all the technique of a teen popping his cherry. A groan left his throat, tension rising in his groin. Wet, meaty slaps of skin meeting hide formed a staccato rhythm, peaked, then stilled as he hilted and clung to her, gasping. The poorly contained dam broke, powerful spurts painting her depths. He shuddered, falling into the bliss of release, primal instincts satisfied by the euphoric sensation of blowing his load into that incredible squeezing passage.

As the flow turned to a trickle, Ruben slumped against her, sighing, and rubbed his hands along the mighty length of her tail. “Damn, you trying to wring me dry or something?”

A soft chuckle. “Not yet.” Her tunnel clenched, spongy heat suckling his spent shaft in all the right ways. “If it turns out you’re only good for one round, I will be quite disappointed.”

He grunted, resting his hands on her rump again and kneading into the firm contours. “Nah, give me some credit. Just need a minute.” Shadows lengthened over them as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, a golden nimbus surrounding Miss Thorn's face.

“How was it?” The smirk had returned, slicing through the haze of afterglow.

“Acceptable.”

“Uh-huh. Did it live up to the hype? Ruined humans for you?”

Actually, it kinda had. He’d thought the stories about the things pokémon pussy could do to a man were exaggerated—and every species was a bit different of course—but the way her muscles rolled and gripped him, welcoming every thrust and clamping down as if desperate to keep him inside... “It was pretty good.”

Her tail flicked, smacking him across the cheek. “Oops, sorry.”

He scowled at her, prompting a giggle. “What, want me to leave you a five star review or something?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I’d also appreciate it if you subscribe to my channel.”

The absurdity pulled a laugh from him. “Didn’t know you moonlit as a pornstar.”

“Why, Mr. Nikos,” she fluttered her eyelids. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Hold on, do you actually...?”

“No.” Her tail threatened to smack him once more, but he caught the tip, shoving it to the side. “Ooh, what a man!”

“Careful.” He flexed, adding a bit of pressure to his massage of her rump. “I work out now and then.” In truth he was in decent shape for a desk jockey, and felt no shame doffing his shirt on the beach. He’d never been one to let his body slide.

“Remember that whole thing about paralyzing you and sitting on you? It’s still an option.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I keep fucking you?” The fuzzy bliss had faded, and already his manhood surged, spreading her around his girth. He’d never been ready to go so again so quickly, his shaft remaining partly erect inside her instead of slipping out, encouraged by the ‘queen’s gentle squeezes.

“Your participation is preferred, but not required.” She winked. “Call it a performance initiative.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “You really know how to boost a guy’s confidence, don’t you?”

“Thank you. I’ve always considered motivational coaching to be one of my stronger aspects. Glad to know it’s working.” Her grin widened, damp tightness tugging his growing length. “Seems to be quite successful in fact. Maybe you’d like to demonstrate the viability of your proposal?”

For the love of... “You’re really tempting me to walk out right now.”

“Shame.” She wriggled, the motion bouncing her hips and grinding into him most pleasantly. “I’d quite like to get a full test done of all your features.”

“Hey, uh, Miss Thorn?”        

“Yes?”

Drawing back his hips, he slammed into her, eliciting a grunt and burying his turgid shaft.

“Please stop talking.”

“Seems like that’d be a waste of this wonderful—” she cut off with a gasp as he repeated his thrust, rolling his hips and sinking himself as deep as possible. “Mmm. Translator technology.”

Credit where it was due, she knew exactly how to goad him into rutting her in a bestial frenzy. Good thing he’d been planning to do so anyway. In lieu of reply, he leaned forward, tucking her tail to the side and grabbing her around the waist, and went for it. He could only get his arms partway around her belly, but that was fine. More than enough leverage to gyrate his hips, pumping into her with sharp, forceful hunches, keeping himself deep within those rippling walls. The sharp intake of breath coupled with the tensing of her body drew a fierce grin to his face. She wasn’t made of stone, and he’d be damned if he was going to let her keep the amusement of his earlier quickshot to lord over him.

Normally, he’d be more inclined to take his time, to ease into his lover and slowly pick up the pace. Miss Thorn all but demanded he jump right to rutting her silly, and with her size and toughness, she could certainly handle any amount of force he might manage. His crotch collided with hers, rapidfire, obscene, juicy smacks marking each thrust. Rough, primal, dirty sex, designed to shoot them both to that ecstatic pinnacle.

A lusty growl rumbled through him, answering a wordless moan from the ‘queen. His queen. At least, for now. The sour brine soup of sweat, pheromones, and musk mingled with her perfume’s citrus and the curious sandalwood odour of her arousal. He gripped her tight, pebbled hide heaving beneath his fingers as he rocked her with each hilting thrust. It required him to push off with his toes, but most of his weight rested on her back, the cool firmness of her plated armour pleasant against his belly and chest. One of her back spines nudged his collarbone, poking the skin—possibly a hazard, but as long as she didn’t roll over on him, it served as a reminder that this was a powerful, dangerous creature; one that lay squirming and gasping beneath him in the throes of sexual passion.

“How’s... This... For unit testing?” he ground out between shuddering breaths.

A giggle shook her. “Checks out! I’m... Anxious for your... data dump.”

She really needed to watch fewer cheesy pornos. Gritting his teeth, he altered the pace, trading speed for power with long strokes that nearly pulled him free of her clenching folds. Sweat rolled down his forehead and spine, each stroke of plush slickness along his throbbing length driving him closer to the edge. Tightness grew in his balls and groin, splashes of pre jetting forth to mingle with her nectar. A bit more... She had to cum first this time!

If Devon happened to come by again, there wouldn’t be much chance of mistaking the sounds of wild sex. Oddly enough, the idea galvanized Ruben. Despite the fear of exposure, a strange pride welled up at the thought of another knowing of his conquest. She’d come on to him, and that made it so much hotter!

Miss Thorn’s hips rolled, matching his motions and grinding their crotches together. Her mouth hung open, eyes closed, tiny gasps and deep-throated grunts escaping her. Thick legs kicked randomly, and her tail slapped his hip, urging him on as her pussy rippled around his pistoning shaft. Cute, though he’d probably have bruises there later. Sensing victory, Ruben bared his teeth, even while his cock twitched, the pressure building and straining to blow. Should he ask where she wanted it?

Nah.

With a feral cry, Miss Thorn tensed, forelimbs scrabbling at the desk. Rhythmic contractions milked his cock, warm fluid soaking him, splashing free to spatter his crotch. Those wide hips gyrated, humping against him in a frenzy. He managed two more rapid thrusts, sustaining her orgasm, then he too loosed a groan, collapsing onto her and giving in to the inevitable. Thick bursts of cream flooded her, his mind blanking in the wave of blissful satisfaction. His buried rod twitched, balls churning, expending a load as pent up as the first into those incredible rippling depths.

Tangerine dusk joined the yellowed glow of lights from the surrounding buildings, framing the pair of them in shadows. Soon, the ecstatic high lulled, heavy spurts turning to dribbles coaxed free by the steady massage of her tunnel. Languor rose to claim him, his chest heaving against her back as he caught his breath, warmth suffusing him from head to toe. Hot damn. It’d been ages since he’d cum like that.

Miss Thorn shifted beneath him, a soft sigh leaving her. Her eyelids fluttered, sleepy focus centering on him, her muzzle quirking that all-too-knowing grin. She started to speak, but he cut her off.

“Yes, yes, acceptable.” He made a show of rolling his eyes. “Like you didn’t just soak my balls.”

“Actually, I was going to compliment you on your stamina. The last man I took to the bedroom managed half of that, even on the second round. But I’m always a fan of allowing staff to self-evaluate.”

Despite his bristling, pride tugged a smirk to his own face. “In that case, I guess I’ll give myself an, ‘exceeds expectations, recommended for advancement’.”

“Perhaps, though it requires your supervisor to sign off on it.” She winked. “I’ll take it under advisement. Now, lovely as this pillow-talk is, we probably should clean up before Devon decides to come back.”

Nodding, Ruben levered himself up with a groan, the pleasant muzziness pricked by a pronounced ache in his calves and hips. Worth. His softened shaft slipped free, chased by an ooze of mingled fluids which dripped from her pouting vulva onto the desktop. A lewd sticky strand joined them for a moment, before it too snapped, flinging a droplet to the carpet. The sight of her well-used and leaking snatch was straight out of his online favourites, her tail flagging to the side in erotic display. Ruben crouched, snagged his pants and briefs and tugged them up around his hips, then fished his phone free of his pocket. Just a quick one, for posterity...

“Naughty.” Her tail dropped, smacking his wrist and nearly making him drop the device. “Normally I’d appreciate the thought, but I can’t allow you to keep a record of this.”

Right, of course. Potential blackmail. Not that he’d intended to use it as anything more than a fond reminder and great fap material. He shrugged, pocketing his phone again and buttoning his slacks. “Fair enough, but can’t blame me for trying.”

She chuckled, raising her tail high once more. “I suppose not. Take a good look then. Enjoy it while you can.”

He did exactly that, mentally filing it along with the teasing scents of citrus and sandalwood, until she slid herself off the desk, grunting as her feet came to rest on the carpet.

“Nothing quite so therapeutic as that on a Friday evening, is there? Sets off the weekend right to get rid off all that tension.” Opening one of the desk drawers, she produced a tissue, wiping off first the desk, then reaching down to see to herself. A second tissue completed the job, both ending up in the wastebasket. She nodded to him, leaning one paw on the desk and affording him her lazy blink. “Thank you, Mr. Nikos. This has been quite the productive coaching session. I’ll make sure to note it in your file.”

“Sure.” What would it be like to kiss her? That wide tongue of hers probably made for quite the adventure. But, that wasn’t what this was. Besides, it would give her far too much satisfaction. Another time maybe. “You uh... Have a good weekend, Miss Thorn.”

“And you.” She gestured to his crotch, grinning. “Might want to zip up before you leave.”

“Right.” He fixed the offending gap in his slacks, then turned to go. “I'll… I'll see you on Monday.”

"Oh, and Mr. Nikos?"

He glanced back. She hadn’t moved, but her tail swished from side to side. "Yeah?"

"I should of course remind you about my open-door policy. Just in case you feel the need to review what we've covered here today." Her sleepy gaze twinkled with mirth. "No appointment necessary."

"Yes ma'am."