overworked robert who dials your number whilst he's on break in a shoddy bathroom stall hoping to god that you'd pick up the phone.
overworked robert who's hand flies to his belt, quickly unbuckling it with both hands as his phone lays between his ear and shoulder. your voice blaring out of the speaker as he breathes heavily, hands unzipping his slacks.
overworked robert who tells you he won't be coming home tonight, that he's got too much paperwork to get through and that he wishes he could be next to you in bed.
overworked robert who's hand slides down into his boxers, pulling out his hard throbbing cock. his hands stroke himself as he listens to your voice, his eyes closing as he pictures you, bent over on his bed, feet dangling off the edge as he pounds into you, dicking you down with an obnoxious smirk on his face.
overworked robert who continues to jerk himself off, his hands moving from base to tip in a mantra, his hand wet and dripping with pre as his eyes close. he throws his head back, his hands speeding up as he strokes himself quicker, the sound of his groans bouncing off the walls as he begs, and pleads for you to keep talking. To keep that pretty mouth of yours going as he imagines himself inside your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out of you, hands pressed against your thighs with a bruising grip as he fucks you making you forget your own name.
overworked robert who thinks about how pretty you'd look, on your knees, fingers gripping onto his legs as you take him into your warm waiting mouth, tongue first as he thrusts himself into your wet canal, sliding against your tongue. he'd run his fingers through your hair, grabbing the base of your head as he'd help you suck him off. he'd groan at the little whines and choked sobs you'd let out as you struggle to take him in your mouth, he loved that about you. small but mighty he'd say.
overworked robert who can't take it anymore, who pants out your name as he cums, his tip pink and sore as it spurts out ropes of cum, painting his slacks and the wall in front of him. your name leaves his lips with a gasp as he runs his hand through his hair before sliding it down his face. he grabs some tissue, wiping himself down before shoving his pathetic throbbing cock back into his slacks, giving you a quick goodbye on the phone before stepping out of the stall.
overworked robert who lets out a gruff huff as he notices sonar outside the stall, nose pressed against the counter as he sniffs a white substance on the counter grumbling out.
"Jerking off again dude?"
