My Boss Knows I'm A Slút (5)
“You feel that?” he grunted, gripping my waist. “You feel how deep I am inside your tight little ass?”
“Yes. Fúck, yes.”
Then he started to move, slow at first, then harder and deeper. The sound of skin on skin filled the office again, this time louder, more obscene. His cóck slammed into my ass with every thrust, and I moaned shamelessly, aware that anyone outside could be watching. That thrill pushed me closer to the edge again.
“This ass was fúcking made for me,” he growled. “Tight as fúck. You like being watched, don’t you? Like being my nasty girl.”
“Yes,” I cried, voice cracking. “Use me. Just like this.”
He reached around and started rubbing my clít again while fúcking my ass relentlessly. My legs were shaking, sweat dripping down my spine.
“You’r
