Some corporate hellhole where the air smells like stale coffee and failed promotions. She’s wearing that damn green bikini top, no bra underneath, just smooth skin stretched over her tits as she rides one guy’s cock on a desk so flimsy it groans with every thrust. The other dude is buried face-down in her ass, fingers digging into hips hard enough to bruise while she moans loud enough to wake up security. Her boss leans against the doorframe watching through half-lowered blinds—no way he’d call HR now. Not when his own hands are tangled in her hair pulling her down for deepthroats between strokes.
