She owns the kneel, that grown woman in office skirt and blouse, drawing the swollen cock past her painted lips with a grip that's velvet over iron. Classroom tiles cool under knees, suit fabric bunching against warm thighs as she sucks deeper, cheeks hollowing with each pull—texture of veined shaft sliding over tongue, her saliva glossing it slick. Who's begging now? Boys' socks peek from pants legs, her bangs framing slitted eyes locked upward. Switches to full mouth stretch, jaw working the girth, throat testing limits in this after-hours lesson. Aged beauty runs it raw, no notes needed.
