She was supposed to be measuring his cock for a dress fit—but her lips were wrapped tighter than the tape on that pattern book. Thick thighs spread wide on that vintage sewing machine stool, pink lace barely covering anything. He leans forward like he doesn’t notice her tongue tracing the underside of his shaft while she whispers about ‘tailoring adjustments.’ Then she drops down slow, eyes locked through the half-open door like this wasn’t just another client. Deepthroat so hard he grabs her hair and slams into her throat before flipping her onto the cutting table—cock buried in that tight pussy with every stitch of fabric flying off as they both come undone.
