The Celebration Suite
“That was a hell of a win today, Ms. Vance.”
I leaned back in the hotel suite’s armchair, swirling the champagne. “Call me Claire. And it wasn’t me—it was all of you. That’s why you’re here.”
The five of them—my legal team, all men, all in tailored suits—exchanged glances. Mark, the senior associate, cleared his throat. “We just did our jobs.”
“You did more than that.” I set the glass down, stood, and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. The city glittered below. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all week? Not the contract. Not the zeros.”
“What then?” That was David, the youngest, his voice a little rough.
I turned. “About how hard you all worked. How you deserve a reward. And how I’ve been wanting to let go of control for months.” I reached behind my back and unzipped my dress. “So I’m going to give you something. If you want it.”
The dress pooled at my feet. I stood there in black lace—La Perla, the good stuff. The bra barely held me, the panties were a scrap of silk. I heard someone exhale sharply.
“Claire…” Mark started.
“No.” I shook my head, walking toward the center of the room. “No talking. Just come here. All of you.”
They moved like men in a dream. Suit jackets hit the floor. Ties were yanked loose. I knelt on the plush carpet, looking up at them. “I want you to use me. I want to feel like a woman who just closed a billion-dollar deal and needs to be reminded why she’s alive.”
“Jesus,” David whispered. His hand was already working his belt.
“I want you all to jerk off for me. Cover me. Make a mess.” I reached up and pulled the cups of my bra down, letting my tits spring free. My nipples were already hard. “I want your cum all over my face, my tits, my lingerie. I want to be dripping with it.”
Mark stepped closer, his cock already out. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure. Now give me what I want.” I tilted my head back, closed my eyes. “Stroke yourselves. Look at me. Think about that closing call, that signature, my mouth wrapped around you—whatever it takes. But I want every single drop.”
They formed a loose semicircle around me. I heard the wet sounds of hands on cocks, low groans. I spread my thighs, my fingers finding my clit through the silk of my panties. “That’s it. Fuck, you don’t know how hot this is. Five handsome lawyers, all for me.”
“Fuck, Claire, your mouth,” Mark grunted.
“Open your eyes,” I said. “Look at me when you come.”
David was already close. “I—I’m gonna…”
“Do it. Cover me.”
The first rope hit my cheek, thick and warm. Then another across my collarbone. Mark followed, aiming at my chest, painting my bra and the swell of my tits. The others joined in, a hot, messy storm. I gasped as a glob landed on my lips, and I licked it off, tasting salt and musk.
“More,” I whispered. “Don’t stop until I’m soaked.”
They didn’t. By the time they were spent, I was kneeling in a pool of cum. It dripped from my chin, pooled in the hollow of my throat, soaked through the lace of my bra and panties. I opened my eyes, smiling up at them.
“See?” I said, running a finger through the mess on my chest and bringing it to my mouth. “That’s how you close a deal.”
Mark laughed, breathless, and pulled me to my feet. “You’re going to need a shower.”
“Eventually.” I pressed against him, feeling his softening cock against my stomach. “But first, I think there’s a bottle of champagne in the bedroom. And I believe I owe you all a taste of what I look like when I’m grateful.”
They followed me, a trail of sticky handprints on the carpet.