Playboy Morning Show - Episode 277

His mouth is on her before she’s finished unzipping him. Hot breath, quick tongue. She arches back against the wall and spreads her thighs wider, one heel knocking the doorframe. He sinks two fingers deep, curls them, finds the spot that makes her swear under her breath. She’s dripping over his knuckles already. She gets his cock free and grips it hard at the base, gives one rough stroke, then another. He grunts into her cunt. Her hips roll against his face, chasing every flick of his tongue. Sweat beads between her breasts; the silk of her blouse clings to her skin. He pulls away, spins her, bends her forward over the desk. The edge bites into her hip bones. He shoves her skirt up, rips the thin scrap of her thong aside, lines up, and sinks in all at once. She moans loud, unfiltered. The sound echoes off the empty office walls. He fucks her hard, fast, hips slapping skin. She pushes back, meets every thrust. Papers scatter, a pen clatters to the floor. His hand finds her clit again, rubs tight circles until she comes hard, clenching around him, her nails scoring the polished wood. He follows seconds later, emptying inside her with a raw, broken sound.