She walked through the door at 12:15, keys still in her hand, and there he was, leaning against the kitchen counter in his work shirt, tie already loosened. No words needed. They both knew the clock was ticking. He grabbed her by the waist, spun her around, and shoved her face-down over the island. Her skirt was yanked up in one rough pull. Panties ripped aside. His belt clinked open fast.
"Fuck, you're already wet," he growled, two fingers sliding straight into her pussy without warning. She moaned and pushed back against his hand, grinding on those thick digits while he pumped them hard and fast. No slow build. They had maybe fifteen minutes before he had to leave for the afternoon meetings.
He pulled his fingers out, spit on his palm, and stroked his cock once before slamming it balls-deep into her. She cried out, gripping the edge of the counter as he started pounding. Hard, quick thrusts that made her ass ripple every time his hips slapped against it. The wet sound of her pussy taking every inch filled the kitchen. He reached under her, grabbed her tits through her blouse, and squeezed hard while he fucked her.
"Take that cock," he grunted. "Been thinking about this tight cunt all morning."
She pushed back to meet every thrust, her heels lifting off the floor. "Deeper. Fuck me deeper, you bastard." He obliged, angling his hips so the head of his cock dragged right over her G-spot on every stroke. Her juices were running down her thighs now. He slapped her ass once, twice, leaving red handprints, then grabbed her hips and hammered faster.
The quickie rhythm was brutal and perfect. No romance, just raw need. He pulled out suddenly, flipped her onto her back on the counter, and spread her legs wide. Her pussy was swollen and glistening. He drove back in, one hand pinning her throat lightly while the other rubbed tight circles on her clit. She came hard within seconds, legs shaking, pussy clenching around his shaft in pulsing waves. He didn't stop. He kept fucking her through it, using her orgasm to slick his cock even more.
"Again," he ordered. "Come on my dick again before I fill you up."
She reached down and spread her own lips wider for him, giving him a perfect view of her stretched hole taking every inch. The sight made him groan and speed up. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her stomach. Her second orgasm hit stronger; she squirted a little around his cock, soaking the front of his pants. He didn't care. He was close.
He pulled out, hauled her off the counter, and bent her over the kitchen table instead.
One foot up on a chair for leverage, he slammed back inside and fucked her like he was trying to break the furniture. Short, savage strokes. Balls slapping her clit. She reached back and spread her ass cheeks so he could watch his cock disappear into her. That visual pushed him over. He buried himself to the hilt and unloaded, thick ropes of cum pumping deep into her pussy. He kept thrusting through his orgasm, pushing his load deeper with every twitch.
When he finally pulled out, cum leaked down her inner thighs. She stayed bent over for a moment, catching her breath, then reached between her legs and scooped some of it onto her fingers. She licked them clean while he watched, zipping up. They both straightened their clothes in under a minute. He grabbed his keys, kissed her hard on the mouth, tasting himself on her tongue.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asked.
She smirked, smoothing her skirt. "Bring lunch. You're gonna need the energy."
He left. She wiped the counter, poured herself a glass of water, and smiled at the clock. Quickie accomplished. Her body still hummed from the rough use, and she already felt hungry for the next one.
