Skirt flipped up over a well-used office chair. No warning, no teasing—just a fat cock slamming into that tight, mature ass like she’s been waiting for this all damn day. The leather squeaks under her spread legs as she grips the armrests, knuckles white from holding back screams. Every thrust shakes the whole desk; stapler rattles, coffee spills. This isn’t some practiced fuck—it’s raw hunger. Her tits bounce against the fabric of her blouse as he grunts behind her, hands digging into those thick hips to yank her back harder. The angle? Perfect for stretching what clearly wasn’t used to this kind of size lately.
