Romantic Whispers: sit on her face

Under the desk in “sit on her face,” the prim secretary hikes her pencil skirt, no panties, shaved pussy already glistening. She spreads wide for the hidden camera of “sit on her face,” rubbing her clit in quick circles while pretending to type. Her boss’s voice drones above, unaware, as she slides a thick marker inside herself in “sit on her face,” biting her lip to stay quiet. The ridges drag against her walls perfectly in “sit on her face” until her legs shake uncontrollably. A muffled cry escapes as she cums hard, juices soaking the leather chair and dripping onto the office carpet in “sit on her face,” leaving a dark wet spot only the viewers of “sit on her face” will ever know about.