Sunlight bleeds through blinds over a half-empty cubicle farm where the air smells like stale coffee and desperation. Thirty-five-year-old brunette with a tight ass and tits that spill out of her low-cut blouse doesn’t give a damn who walks by—her panties are already around her ankles, fingers yanking his belt loose before he even sits down. Bent over his desk, legs splayed wide enough for anyone to see what she’s begging for. His hand grips her hip hard enough to bruise while she lowers onto him slow, deliberate—moans muffled against the keyboard as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. No lube needed; office grease does just fine.
