Under the desk in “machinery sex,” the prim secretary hikes her pencil skirt, no panties, shaved pussy already glistening. She spreads wide for the hidden camera of “machinery sex,” 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 “machinery sex,” biting her lip to stay quiet. The ridges drag against her walls perfectly in “machinery sex” 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 “machinery sex,” leaving a dark wet spot only the viewers of “machinery sex” will ever know about.