Hospital Debauchery

The first light of dawn had barely pierced the horizon when Devon slipped out of the Voss house, the grand duplex still shrouded in the hush of early morning. He'd woken before the others, his body satisfied from the night's indulgences, but his mind already sharpening for the day ahead.

Serena lay beside him in the guest suite, her naked form tangled in the sheets, her hair splayed across the pillow like a fiery halo, her full breasts rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep. They'd gone another round just hours ago, slow and intense this time, her legs wrapped around him as he thrust deep, her moans muffled against his neck, her pussy clenching around his cock in a final, shuddering orgasm that left her spent and glowing.

He'd watched her drift off, a soft smile on her lips, before dressing quietly in his blue shirt and black pants, his loafers silent on the marble floor as he left without a word.

By the time he arrived at the hospital, the city was stirring to life, the parking lot filling with the early shift of staff. Devon bypassed his own office, his schedule clear for another three hours until his next surgery, a complex neurosurgical procedure that demanded precision. But that could wait, vengeance came first. He'd promised Thorne seven days of misery, and Devon was a man who kept his word. With purposeful strides, he headed straight for the administrative wing, his diamond studded watch glinting under the fluorescent lights, his expression a mask of calculated calm.

Pushing open the door to Thorne's outer office, Devon swept in without a knock, his eyes immediately scanning the space, a sterile anteroom with filing cabinets, a neat desk, and the faint scent of coffee brewing. Behind the desk sat the secretary, a woman in her late fifties who exuded a timeless allure.

She was a vision of mature sensuality, her silver hair pulled into a sleek bun that accentuated the elegant lines of her neck, her full lips painted a deep crimson that begged to be kissed or wrapped around something thicker. Her blouse strained against her massive, pendulous breasts, the fabric clinging to their heavy curves, nipples faintly visible through the thin material like hidden treasures waiting to be unearthed. Her hips flared wide in her pencil skirt, promising an ass that was plump and firm, the kind that jiggled enticingly with every step, her thighs thick and toned, crossed beneath the desk in a way that hinted at the wet heat between them.

She was the epitome of experienced desire, a body that had aged like fine wine, curvaceous and unapologetic, her skin smooth and inviting, radiating a sexual confidence that could make a man's cock twitch just from a glance.

The secretary looked up, her blue eyes widening behind her stylish glasses, but Devon barely spared her a look before striding toward the inner door. "Dr Devon, wait, you can't just—" she stammered, jumping to her feet with a grace that belied her age, her breasts bouncing slightly with the motion.

But it was too late; Devon had already pushed into Thorne's private office, the door swinging wide to reveal an empty space.

But there was no Thorne in sight. Devon scanned the room methodically, his dark eyes narrowing as he moved to the desk, yanking open the top drawer with a sharp tug, rifling through papers and pens as if searching for buried treasure or incriminating dirt.

The secretary burst in behind him, her heels clicking urgently on the tile, her ample bosom heaving with exertion. "Dr Devon, please, Dr Thorne isn't here yet. His first meeting isn't until nine. Can I help you with something?" Her voice trembled slightly, a mix of professional concern and something deeper, her hands clasped in front of her skirt, fingers twisting nervously.

Devon didn't respond immediately, his focus on the drawers flipping through files, pushing aside notepads, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

The secretary's brow furrowed, her full lips pursing as she stepped closer, the scent of her perfume, "Are you… looking for something specific? I can check his schedule or—"

Only then did Devon pause, straightening to his full height, his gaze finally locking onto her. And oh, wow—she was even more striking up close. Her face held the beauty of experience, high cheekbones flushed with a natural rosiness, her blue eyes sparkling with a mix of wariness and intrigue behind those glasses.

But it was her body that commanded attention, those enormous breasts straining against her blouse, the deep cleavage a valley begging to be explored, nipples now visibly hardened under the fabric, poking like eager invitations. Her waist nipped in before flaring to wide hips that promised a soft, cushioned ride, her ass round and firm, the skirt hugging it like it was poured on, hinting at the tight, puckered hole hidden beneath that Devon suddenly imagined stretching with his cock.

Her thighs were thick, the kind that could wrap around a man's waist and squeeze until he saw stars, her skin smooth and creamy, dotted with faint freckles that trailed down her cleavage like a map to buried pleasure.

She was a masterpiece, experienced, voluptuous, her body screaming for a hard fuck, her pussy likely dripping at the thought of a younger stud like him pounding her senseless.

A slow, predatory smile curved Devon's lips as he leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

The secretary blinked, her furrowed brow smoothing into surprise, then a sly glint entered her eyes. She stepped closer, her hips swaying with deliberate seduction. "So, you want to ruin Thorne's life," she murmured, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, her crimson lips parting slightly. "Can't say I blame you. The man's a pompous ass always has been."

Devon's eyebrow arched, intrigued. "And you'd help with that?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze raking over him appreciatively, lingering on the bulge in his pants. "I've got something that could bury him. But…" Her voice trailed off, a seductive smile playing on her lips as she closed the distance, her finger trailing lightly across his chest, circling a button on his shirt before drifting lower, over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants.

Devon's expression shifted to fascination, his dark eyes watching her intently as her hand hovered, teasing.

"What do you want in return?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, already suspecting the answer from the heat in her gaze.

She pressed closer, her bountiful breasts brushing his arm, her finger now tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric, feeling it twitch and harden under her touch. "I want your cock in my ass," she purred, staring up at him seductively, her blue eyes dark with lust.

"Word around the hospital is you've got a big cock between your legs, the kind that wrecks a woman. I want you to stretch my tight asshole with it, fuck me until I can't walk straight."

Devon's face remained fascinated, a spark of amusement in his eyes, but he stayed still, letting her hand explore, her grip firming as she cupped his growing bulge.

"They say you make women scream, beg for more," she continued, her voice breathy, her other hand sliding up to squeeze her own breast through her blouse, pinching the nipple visibly. "Prove it. Give me that big cock in my ass, and Thorne's secrets are yours."

He didn't move, his gaze intense, but she sneered, sensing his hesitation as a challenge. "Or are the rumors just rumors? Maybe you're not man enough to handle a real woman like me, one who is experienced, hungry, ready to take every inch."

Those words ignited a reaction, Devon's eyes narrowed into a glare, his jaw tightening, but she only laughed softly, her hand grabbing his crotch harder, squeezing his now rock-hard cock through the pants, stroking the length with bold strokes.

"Come on, big boy," she taunted, pressing her body against his, her massive breasts flattening against his chest, her free hand unbuttoning her blouse to reveal more cleavage. "Show me what you've got, come to mama."