You weren’t supposed to see this. The break room at her office, desk lamp buzzing like a secret signal. She came in late, locked the door—then pulled that pencil skirt up past her tights while he sat there stunned. No warning, no hesitation: just her sinking down onto his cock with a moan that vibrated through the thin walls. Thighs shaking against his hips as she rides him slow at first—fingers digging into his shoulders—but then faster, harder, until her tits are bouncing and he’s gripping her ass like it’s forbidden territory (because it is). When he flips her over the desk mid-thrust? Her mascara runs but she doesn’t care.
