shawmila smut

primitive

Camila doesn't feel guilty as she's going through the employee database on her computer. She's a good lawyer winning a lot of cases, so naturally that means she's a busy woman. She doesn't have the time nor the mind to do an effort when she's not sure of the result. She doesn't feel like dolling up, putting on her sexiest dress, snagging herself a man to sleep with only to find out that he's not all that down there, or that he is all that but can't do anything with it.

Unfortunately, this means that she hasn't had sex in months. Yes, she's got a very nice corner office with two comfortable couches and even an ensuite shower, but she worked damn hard for it. And maybe she batted an eyelash or two, but she'd never have accomplished this position at her age if she weren't damn good at what she does. The only problem is that she's a very sexual being and she's got needs, too.

After reaching the last name, she sighs. No hot or trustworthy women who'd keep it to themselves. She types in a few commands, changing her search from 'female' to 'male'. A man is more likely to shut up in hopes of a repeat anyway. She's about desperate for someone who will do when she reaches the 'M'.

Then she smirks.

Of course.

Shawn Mendes.

He's fairly new, but hot damn, is he good-looking. He's rather tall, has a strong jaw, piercing brown eyes. Brunette hair that's just the right kind of messy and a light stubble that really gets her going when she thinks about rubbing her hard tits against it. It also helps that she's caught him checking out her ass a few times in passing. She quickly reads through his file. Not married. Good. Not that she'd care either way, but he's less likely to put up much resistance. About her age. Perfect.

She takes her phone and calls her assistant, Anna, asking her to bring in Shawn Mendes immediately. She quickly checks her hair and make-up in the mirror and perches herself on top of her desk, crossing her legs as well as she can. She's glad she put on her high-waist black pencil skirt and her pearly white shirt. She decides to open a few buttons, knowing it'll bring attention to her cleavage. She still doesn't regret that summer surgery in high school because the doctors did a damned good job. That brings her to another idea. She jumps off her desk while unbuttoning her shirt and as she walks around her desk, she takes her bra off. She hides it in a drawer, buttons her shirt back up and tucks it in her skirt, jumping back on her desk.

She hears a knock and smirks. "Come in," she calls out.

Shawn enters nervously, clearly a bit confused as to why he's being called into her office. He swallows visibly when he takes in the sight in front of him.

"Shawn."

"Miss Cabello."

Oh shit, she never knew he had such a deep, warm, sultry voice.

"Come here." He walks up to her. Camila decides to get straight to the point. "Are you gay?" You never know, he was checking out her ass to inspect her outfit, even though she'd be surprised if she can go by the lust in his eyes that she noticed when she once turned and winked at him, making him blush furiously.

"No, I'm not. But I'd hope it wouldn't be a problem if I was."

Camila smiles - not genuinely. In all honesty, she couldn't care less, especially since she's open herself, but it'd put quite the damper on this visit. She's starting to like the idea of fucking this guy more and more.

"Of course not. Now tell me, how big is your penis?"

"Excuse me?"

Camila rolls her eyes. "How big is your penis? Length, girth?"