Intimate Encounters in she male reproductive system

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