Frankie Morales
The Catfish & the Mouse: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Happy Birthday, Frankie! Part 1 | Part 2
One Shot: Dine Out & Eat In
One Shot: Unrestrained Summer Fun
One Shot: Sometimes, Frankie's a Beach
One Shot: Baby's Got a Temper
One Shot: Just Desserts
One Shot: Keep Your Dinner Warm
One Shot: Delayed Gratification
One Shot: Cranky Frankie
One Shot: Camping Can Be In-Tents
Drabble: A Drunk Mouse Cometh
One Shot: Frankie Gets Notched Down a Peg
One Shot: Frankie Takes a Trip Down Memory Lane
One Shot: Mouse's Relief
Drabble: Not his Father
One Shot: All Pent Up & Nowhere to Go
Drabble: And Baby Catfish Makes Three
Drabble: Man in the Mirror
Drabble: Being Neighbourly [stand alone]
Joel Miller
One Shot: The Way into a Man's Heart
One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved
Drabble: Just Want To Hear Your Voice
Drabble: Run Joel Run
Drabble: Clean Plates Club [stand alone]
Dave York
One Shot: Caught Red-Handed
One Shot: Play Nice
One Shot: Make Me, Yorkie
Javier Peña
One Shot: An HR Nightmare
Drabble: In Between the Scene
One Shot: Ringin' in the New Year
Dieter Bravo
One Shot: Contract Conundrums
Drabble: Dieter Measures Up
Ezra
One Shot: Brass Knuckled Debauchee
Marcus Pike
One Shot: Let's Get Physical!
One Shot: Tommy Miller's Stall
Drabble: No Words Needed
a fat!Frankie drabble | Fish x Benny x Pope | Rated: 18+ | word count: 757
warnings: intentional fattening, cock grabbing. Pope being a bossy bitch, Benny being a softy, Frankie eating, talk of weight and weight gain, beef basically being old school beef, men loving men is a good thing
A/N: Thank you to @for-a-longlongtime for their love and support 💜 This is for my beloved @rebel-held - it's been far too long.
If this ain't your bag or you don't follow me for this kind of thing, thanks for scrolling!
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Frankie stood up from the table, feeling heavier. He found every time he hung out with Benny and Santiago at this late night diner, he left with his gut stuffed. Last year at this time, Frankie could have argued that he still had abs when he was dehydrated, but now, his middle was more than a paunch when stomach was empty. His sides were softer and so-called love handles now sat above his jeans, and when his belly was full, like it was tonight, it sat heavily, dipping over his waistband.
“You out, Fish?”, Santiago asked.
“Nah…”, he stood, stretching, his rounded belly peeking from under the now too tight t-shirt. “Just need to stretch.”
Frankie knew it was probably time to head out, he’d eaten enough already, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was happening this evening. He’d noted the way that Benny and Santi shared glances at one another when Frankie polished off a plate of fries or ordered another beer, and they weren’t shared looks of judgement, more… amusement? No… no, it wasn’t that. Frankie couldn’t put his finger on it.
He sat back down heavily in the wooden chair, hearing it creak under him, and looked at the food remaining on the table.
Benny spoke up, “Better finish it, Fish. Waste not, want not, or whatever the fuck it is.”
Frankie clicked his tongue. “Nah, I’ve had enough.”
“No you haven’t.” Santiago’s voice cut in, softer and with a chuckle. He leaned forward and pushed the plate towards Frankie. “Come on… go for it, big guy.”
Frankie felt his cock twitch in his jeans at the way Santiago made eye contact and called him big guy.
He then felt Benny’s elbow graze the side of his belly as he moved to bring the plate closer to him. “You got room for this. I know you do.”
Frankie looked between Benny and Santiago. “Heh… almost like you guys are trying to fatten me up or something”, he said with a nervous smile.
Neither of the men laughed, but Benny smirked with a brow raised and Santiago sat back and crossed his arms as his eyes flicked to Frankie’s gut.
“That a bad thing?”, Benny mused, testing the waters with his fingers softly touching Frankie’s belly.
“I.. uh…”, Frankie stammered as he stared at Benny, the blond man’s hand now making bolder moves as he smoothes his palm and presses into the top of his belly.
“You got room, Fish. Can see it from here.”, Santiago stated, voice low and a little commanding. “Been eating more every time we come out. That little bit’s nothing for that gut you’re carrying now.”
Frankie felt his cheeks heat up at Santiago’s words, and his cock grow harder. Benny must have seen the slight shift he made in his seat and heard his breath hitch. The hand he was rubbing Frankie’s belly with made its way down over his belly button, pressing into the heft of food and fat there then slipped over his crotch and gently cupped his growing erection.
“Oh, he likes this.”, Benny cooed, leaning in so Frankie could feel his warm breath on his neck. “You like this, like the attention you get from Pope, huh?”
Frankie swallowed hard and let out a soft grunt.
Santiago stood up and walked around the table to stand next to Frankie, and he leaned down face to face, one hand on the table and the other on the back of Frankie’s chair.
“You always liked it when I got bossy, Fish.”, Santiago murmured, eyes intense. “Liked it when I took over.”
All Frankie could do was nod stupidly. Santiago’s voice was hypnotic and his eyes bore into his, and Santiago was right - he did like being told what to do by him, always being able to influence Frankie or say just the right words to get Frankie on board with whatever he was planning.
But this wasn’t a job or a heist. This was Santiago telling Frankie to eat more, and, with Benny’s help, had been what Santiago had been doing every time they came out, but just not so obviously.
Santiago’s hand firmly planted itself on the front of his stomach and gave it a little shake. “You got room. Eat up.”
Frankie heard a soft chuckle from Benny to his side, then felt the younger man’s lips gently graze his neck. “Do what Pope says, Fish.”, he murmured against Frankie’s skin.
Frankie finished what was on the table, and then another beer.
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Any chance of more one shots in a similar vain to Clean Plates Club where Reader is feeding Joel Miller please?
Maybe some classic Texas barbeque, biscuits and gravy and some coleslaw?
Hello Nonnie!
Apologies for the delayed response - and thank you for your question!
At this time, no, but that can change on a dime. Usually, what gets me going are your thots and ideas in my inbox.
Now I do have a plethora of asks from way back when in my main inbox (back before people got mean about fat man love), and maybe it's time to dig those out!
Feel free to send in your new ideas while I go rummaging.
EVERYBODY!!! Look at the GORGEOUS Marcus Pike that @yahtiwakitakos drew for me!! My version of Marcus is, of course, handsomely chubby and 100% a sweetheart.
This particular scene is from the loose-fit fic pieces I've been working on forever now (they're kind of just scenes I come up with as a means of coping/escape from daily life)... here, Marcus is my m!OC's date to a wedding 😍
(No, this certainly has nothing to do with my own sister's wedding coming up in a few days)
PS: @beefros-beefy-boy-bin thank you for sharing that Takos had commissions open! 💜
big muscles are only sexy to me if theyre softened by a nice healthy layer of subcutaneous fat. i will never understand the appeal of super toned ripped washboard abs or biceps
Summary: Retirement had done something for Javier Peña that he didn’t think it could have - it made him content.
Javier Peña x m!reader | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 2,360
Content Warnings: retired Peña is still a cop, domestic fluff, smutty husband thots, belly talk, weight appreciation, people need ac - it's sometimes just too damn hot, fondling of a husband's nethers, smoking, speeding in a car, mention of spooked cows
Author's Notes: thank you + congrats to @stitch-away for the winning prompt! Look at me getting this posted before the end of September! Thank you to @bitchesuntitled for their eyes, to @timelordfreya for their help with the Spanish in this fic, and to @missredherring for their suggestions on the plot!
Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.
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Retirement had done something for Javier that he didn’t think it could have - it made him content. Each day that passed, he felt the need to right the world’s wrongs start to fade a little more. It still lingered, but more of a faint itch rather than a full on need. This stage of life had also afforded Javier something that he didn’t think was possible in his lifetime - truth. He was honest for the first time with himself and now was married to you: a slightly younger man who didn’t love Javier despite his faults, but regardless of them.
He was content… albeit a little bored, and this boredom fueled his sweet tooth and snacking habits. While he was assured that you didn’t mind the extra weight he now carried, he couldn’t help but wonder.
But with that contentment, there was an undercurrent of restlessness that would rear its head every now and then, and today was one of those days. You were at work, probably sweating your balls off in your office that Javier knew had no AC, and he was seated on the front porch of your home, drinking a lemonade, watching the traffic on the highway past the waves of various crops and livestock.
Normally, he would stay busy through the day and relax with you in the evening, but it was just too fucking hot; even the shade felt like it could burn his skin. He just didn’t have the same tolerance for the higher temperatures that he once did, and as he thought more about it, he had to huff a laugh quietly to himself as he thought of his father, Chucho. He had worked laboriously outdoors until he passed no matter what the weather or heat and Javier just gave up on account of his age and the reminders of comfort that now sat around his heavier middle. Javier knew better than to vocalize it, but he did feel sheepish in the shadow of his father’s memory as he sat on this porch, getting old and fat, with his little plastic cup of lemonade that he had done nothing to earn that day. Javier let out a deep sigh and groaned as he got up, then headed into the house.
Your work day consisted of two things: being hot and lamenting about how hot you were to anyone who would listen. Laredo’s heat waves were no laughing matter, as you had learned, and truly felt like hell on earth when you were forced to sit in a stagnant and stale oven that was your office. Your button up dress shirt’s top button was undone and the sleeves were rolled up in your attempt to cool down your body, but it was useless. As you sat in a dazed stupor from the stuffy heat, your mind wandered to your husband, Javier, and how you’d left him in the morning.
He’d gotten up and had breakfast with you, enjoying his bowl of Lucky Charms and a black coffee while you ate your toast. His faded DEA t-shirt pulled tight across his now portly belly, a hollow dip in the middle from his belly button, and he’d looked good enough to eat. But you were almost already running late, so you’d had to suffice with just a playful pinch of one of his newly sprouted love handles as you kissed his hair and hurried out the door.
A small, satisfied smile pulled gently across your face as you thought of him, grumpy from the heat and trying to stay grumpy as you kissed down his gut and pushed him back on the couch. You could imagine his breathing picking up as you ran your hands along his open thighs, kneeling down between them and -
“You have the file for the Olsen’s?”
Your thoughts were interrupted by Jennie, your coworker. Blinking, your brain came back from the happy little respite from the heat and you looked up at her.
“Uh… yeah.”, you huffed out, now shuffling through all the paperwork on your desk, looking for the manilla folder with ‘OLSEN’ scrawled on the top tab.
“You looked a million miles away, I almost hated to disturb you.”, she grinned as she crossed her arms and stood with her hip cocked.
You gave a small, huffed laugh in response, and luckily found the folder. Handing it over to her, you sighed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… this heat does weird shit to me.”
Jennie laughed softly, a smug smile on her face, like she knew you weren’t in a daze from the sweltering temperature. “Yeah, the heat can do that.”
As soon as the day was done, you made a b-line to your used Honda Accord, and rolled down both the passenger and driver’s side windows, before sliding in on the ass-melting vinyl seats. At that moment, you needed to get home and Javier hose you down in the yard; you were too hot.
You weren’t built for this. You were a cold winter, mild summer kind of guy, and the only reason you tolerated this fucking heat was because of your husband, who wanted to be closer to his roots and where both his parents were buried. You loved him enough to do this, and in truth, you really didn’t need to live anywhere near your conservative, midwest family, but this heat was really challenging that right now.
Your Accord’s AC was struggling to pump out anything but hot, mechanical air in your face as you drove out of town and down the dusty, dirt road that held your home at the end of it. You didn’t think, you just pressed your foot flat to the floor of your car and sped up. As you got closer to your house, you saw Javier coming out the front door and down the steps as you got closer, unintentionally speeding up, just in pure need to cool down.
You reefed the steering wheel hard and came to a heavy, hard stop in your parking spot, dust billowing around you, and you got out of the car, not even bothering to close the windows. As the dust settled, you saw Javier with his arms crossed over his stomach, his yellow aviators perched on his nose and highlighting the unimpressed scowl on his face.
“What the hell was that?”, his voice growled out. You heard the gravel beneath his feet as he stepped towards you while you hard turned with an eye roll and grabbed your briefcase.
“Baby, I am hot and I don’t want to do this right n-”
“Do what?”, Javier retorted. “You don’t wanna talk about how you came flying down the road, scaring Gonzales’ livestock - that I am going to have to hear about, thank you! - and kicking up dust for no other reason than you can’t stand the heat?”
You dropped your shoulders with your sports coat in one hand and your briefcase in the other, and groaned. “I’m sorry, alright? Can you just- please- can you just spray me with the hose or something? I’m fucking hot, Javi!”
A smirk flicked on one side of Javier’s mouth. He tried to hide it by tightening his lips, trying to look like he was in thought as he took a step towards you. You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing he was up to something.
“What?”, you asked in frazzled huff.
“What?”, he responded with an easy smile, showing his unfairly straight teeth. His tone wasn’t harsh anymore, but softer and darker, like he knew he once again had the upper hand and wanted to play with you.
You groaned out a sigh, your tone turning a bit whiney, “Javi… come on. Knock it off.”
“No no…”, Javier grinned. “I think I like this at-the-end-of-your-rope version of you…”
You grit your teeth, not wanting to play any games. The dust that had blown around you had stuck to your sweat soaked skin and clothing and you were over being hot, sticky and dirty.
“Just get the fucking hose and cool me off!” It came out more of a barked demand rather than a needy pleading question, and you knew it before you closed your mouth.You winced as Javier’s smile dropped into a slightly warning look.
“You sure you wanna go that route, mi amor?” Javier took another slow step towards you and you saw less of your husband and more of the cop you’d only heard stories about. You couldn’t deny that it was insanely sexy when he did this, but you were truly just over the day and needed to cool down and clean up.
“If it means I get to fucking stop being so goddamned hot and gross - yeah!?”
Your leg shifted like you were trying to suppress a tantrum-fueled stomp, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Javier. He cocked his brow and licked his lips, stepping closer, face smug behind those aviators.
“You keep this up, mi vida, and I’m gonna have to take you in.” His eyes raked up your sweaty, damp, office attire clad body as he purred his words out. “Mouthing off to a cop? Baby, that might land you with a strip search.”
You let out a pathetic groan mixed with eye roll; all this meant was you were less likely to get any respite from your misery while Javier wanted to play the cop. “Fuck, Javi! I am in no mood!”
Javier chuckled lowly and saw just how over this you were. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against him. Smiling, he spoke softly against your mouth, “Pobrecito mi trabajadorcito. Getting all riled up from a little heat…”
He pressed his mouth against yours softly, cooling your temper.
After a cold shower and a dinner that required no heating, you felt a bit better. Laid out on the couch in nothing but your boxers combined with the cold beer you were drinking was exactly what you needed. Having the oscillating fan blowing directly over you was just icing on the cake. You must have looked a sight because Javier chuckled and grinned warmly at you as he walked into the room, an unlit cigarette dangling in his mouth. He too was a vision, as he raised his lighter to his cigarette, his other hand shielding the flame. His own boxers were slung low on his hips to account for his thicker and heavier middle, the elastic waist bowing under the weight of his belly and his dinner. Your unabashed gaze washed over him and his eyes met yours.
Javier pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a plume of smoke. “You’re ogling an officer.”
“You’re retired, Javi.”
He grunted in response, and that told you what you needed to know about his day. He’d stayed lowkey on account of the heat he was teasing you for being affected by and his mind had wandered back to when he was younger, slimmer, had more stamina… and closeted. You smiled softly and held your hand out to him. “Baby… come’ere.”
He didn’t move right away, but when he did, he pulled you up from the couch by your outstretched hand and swung you around, holding your hands behind your lower back as he bogarted his cigarette between his lips.
“If I recall, you were getting pretty sassy over me telling you off for speeding earlier.”
His breath washed over the back of your neck, and a little smoke slipped across your shoulders then around you. In one hand he held your wrists with no real firmness, all in fun and not really holding you back from anything. His other hand slipped around your waist, pulling you back against his body before sliding down over your half hard cock.
“You carrying a concealed weapon?”, he grunted into your ear, and you rolled your eyes, almost losing the grip you had on your horniness.
With a tired smile you huffed out, “For fuck’s sake, Javi -”
“You got a permit for this?”, he pushed in a low voice that vibrated from his chest through yours as he cupped your cock and balls in his huge hand. He was clearly wanting you to play along with his role playing. “Gonna have to frisk you now, you punk.”
Javier let you go and snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray on top of the entertainment unit, then sauntered towards you. He hooked his index fingers into your boxers and tugged you towards him, then released the elastic with a snap against your skin.
You leaned in and kissed Javier, and he responded by deepening the kiss, not with urgency but more along the lines of needing you to understand that he loved you just as much as you loved him.
Parting your lips, you allowed him entrance as you snuck your hand on his shoulder down to fold above his love handle, gently massaging your thumb into his soft side.
Javier pulled back slowly, brow raised in playful scolding. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Appreciating.”, you hummed back.
“You like the extra weight, huh?”
“Claro que si, it means there’s more of my husband.”
His face was very close and his nose gently nudged your brow as he spoke in a low, husky tone. “Carrying a concealed weapon… who d’you think you are?”
You smiled and bit your lip, stifling a small laugh. You loved this man with every fibre of your being and him playing ‘tough cop’ just for you was maddeningly hot. Javier’s eyes looked into yours warmly, and he smiled. “You’re a security risk.”
You snorted a laugh. “A security risk my ass!”
“You saying I need to do a cavity search?” Javier’s brows wiggled as he gave you a mischievous grin.
“Oh god!”, you laughed as he pulled you in around your waist and you in turn had one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck. You were grinning like idiots at one another, slowly rocking in a slow dance to the sound of ‘Wheel of Fortune’ playing quietly on the tv.
This was love. This was marriage. This was domesticity.
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I am ready to have some fun and I know many of our writers / creators / thirsters are on a much needed hiatus... but what if you didn't have to create anything but a prompt?
What if this was an UNO REVERSE?
Here's the challenge: submit a prompt to my THOT TANK by September 15th - that's right! YOU submit the prompt to ME. Once all submissions are received, we'll have a series of votes to determine what prompt I am to use.
SUBMISSIONS MUST INCLUDE:
A specific P-Boy (all P-boys welcome except Late 1990's Xerox Commercial Pedro)
A vague enough prompt to offer creative freedom
A required phrase, quote or saying
NOTE: Unhinged is welcome. The more out there the better! But I reserve the right to not include the prompt if it's outside my wheelhouse of comfort.
And of course, if you see a prompt you like and feel moved, you can create your own masterpiece. Just make sure you tag me - @beefrobeefcal - and use the hashtag #beefs uno reverse 2025. You can also send me the link to your submissions via direct msg or in my inbox.
all about beef | Previous Monthly Prompt Challenges
Who cares that Wednesday is either two days away or was five days ago, I have a tasty morsel from Big Guy featuring Joel Miller. (be warned: Joel is a big guy in this 🥵😍)
Thank you to that Nonnie who stoked the fires on this with their kind note! Send your fav writers some love, friendos!
Yours in sin,
Beefro👌🥩💜
So much pressure that you could strip the paint off a winabago tag list: @strang3lov3 @whocaresstillthelouvre
Normal amount of pressure: @ace-turned-confused @bitchesuntitled @mothandpidgeon @sawymredfox @maggiemayhemnj
You nodded, still leaning against the bathroom door, holding the roll of blue shop towel. The way his big body shifted under his getting-snug clothing followed by him adjusting his belt around his ample waist as he got up, it made that feeling start to creep its way through you sooner than it normally did. You clocked it for what it was once Joel moved then turned around to stand and wash his hands; his belly pressed up against the lip of the counter, pressing in and showcasing just how much softer and fatter his middle had gotten. Your mouth went dry as you swallowed thickly, eyes zeroed in on his stomach. You didn’t see Joel catch you staring at him through the bathroom mirror.
Ok but. Harry Castillo? THE Harry Castillo? The one whos got a nutrionist and dietician and physical trainer, to make sure he keeps the strictest physical health possible to perform his best? And all of it adds more stress to his mind.
So when you start gifting him little treats, just a little kind gesture to make his day, he doesnt record those on his intake tracking sheet. It starts with adding a little bowl of choclates to your desk, holding one out for him as he passes by on his way to his office. Always with a warm smile. Its the best first thing in his morning: a little bit of sweetness to unravel like a tiny treasure and kick off his day. He hums and savors the taste in his mouth. It had been years since he had something unfiltered like this: everything he eats is stripped of sugar and processed gooeyness. It excites him to enjoy this one little secret.
But then, youre offering him one every time he leaves for a lunch, comes back from a meeting, shaking hands out in the lobby. You always seem to be perfectly in stock too: when one disappears, another is replenished within the hour. It heats your cheeks every time he gives you a kind smile when snatching one off your desk.
You started taking on his lunch orders too. Of course, everything was perfectly curated by his personal chef. He hadn't order takeout in a long time. So while he eats his bland meal, you also bring him a little extra bite: a burger or plate of fries. Perhaps a milkshake when a deal closes or a few cookies and slices of cake when he's there past 5.
You always leave it on his desk. He' usually busy on a call, but when he swivels to see you standing there clearing room on the table for his tray of goodies, his face lights up, licking his lips as he mumbles an excited "ah huh" into the receiver. You watch as he rushes to end the call before diving in. Whereas before, he'd take nibbles while entirely focused on work, now he slams his laptop shut and dedicates his entire attention to his treats. He lets out happy groans and hums with each bite. Wipes the cream or crumbs from his eager lips and sucks his fingers clean. Always after cleaning the whole plate, he'd sit back and sigh, smiling gently to himself.
You're clearing out the tray when he heaves himself up and trying to change for a new meeting. Harry lets out a grunt, undoing his belt and latching it to the widest hole possible. He frowns in the mirror, staring back as he shifts.
"You look wonderful, Mr Castillo," you tell him softly. He grins and nods, ignoring the new weight settling in stomach and thighs.
His doctor had questioned how his weight had increased so quickly. Harry assures him its temporary stress but hes keeping up with his routines. He doesnt bother to hide the fact that the food has made him less stress than ever before. In fact, his mood had improved tenfold. He was indulging and enjoying food again, and it made him more motivated to keep going.
He was embarassed to ask you to schedule him a tailor appointment for new suits. His clothes feeling tighter must all be in his head. A couple extra treats here and there surely wouldn't have made a noticeable difference on the outside? No, it was just bloating from having foods he'd repressed for decades.
He stops telling himself that when he finds himself cupping your ass in your pencil skirt, seated across his spread lap as you dip another choclate covered strawberry into his mouth. This had become a weekly to nightly occurance. Late hours resulted in late hour munchies. He felt bad keeping you after hours but you insisted if you could parttake, you wouldnt mind all. He thought that meant getting a bite to eat along with his orders, not... this.
He finishes chewing and swallows, humming as you rub his large belly. You had helped unbutton his shirt and pants to help let his gut fall out more natutally. There was no reason to be strung up in uncomfortable clothes when no one was here, you told him. A few glasses of wine didnt hurt either. It felt nice to have the heat of your body against his chest and thigh. He pet your smooth legs curled up against his knee. Your body felt fantastic, especially your thighs. When drunk he had fewer pretense to worry of how it might look, having your boss run his palm up your thigh, above your skirt line. It felt nice for both of you.
You held a cup of chocolate, dipping various snacks layed out on the table, and feeding him one by one. You leaned against his chest and kissed his cheek and neck, listening to his struggled breath trying to keep his arousal at bay. The food piling in his stomach only added pressure to his already hard cock.
You could sense his discomfort. He whined slightly when you sat up. His disappointment is replaces by raised, excited eyes as you unclasp your blouse, revealing your push up bra that accentuated your breasts and cleavage. "Thats better," you hum. "Now you."
He nods as you take over to pulling his hardened length out. It sprung free, slapping the curve of his stomach. "My my, Mr Castillo. I knew those rumors were true."
He blushes. Yanking you back to his lap, you begin to jerk him off with one hand, proceeding to feed him again with the other. Harry is enamoured, his eyes lidded and lust filled, panting as you encourage another bite. You had made a mess of chocolate over his dress shirt, not that he minded one bit. His member throbbed violently in your hand. Your craddled his head to your chest, pumping his length faster. He dipped his finger in the chocolately mess and pressed it to your lips. Your moan sang with praize as you sucked his finger off, enough to make him cum with a yelp all over your hand.
Harry proceeded to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the office. You were rarely at your desk those hours, instead grinding on his belly beneath you atop his lounger, or getting fucked against the closet wall, or sucking his cock and licking the sticky mess left all over his chest and stomach under his desk. He fired his irrate physician and dieticians. He'd never felt more alive and healthier than he has with your invaluable assistance.
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