Secret behind a half-open door—MILF’s desk is a mess of papers and forgotten coffee cups. Skirt pulled up over her thighs, panties damp from teasing herself right there. Doesn’t notice at first when he walks in, just hums along to some old song while rubbing slow circles around that swollen clit. Then his hand lands on her knee and she freezes. No time for denials though—her legs fall open wider as he pushes between them. Cock slides right into that tight, dripping heat without so much as a whisper of permission. Desk creaks under her hips as she rides him hard enough to knock over ink bottles.
