💼 Sarah: forbidden passion in the office... 🏢✨ (Patreon)

Sarah walked down the office corridor, adjusting her blue hair tied up in a high ponytail. The white shirt hugged her figure tightly, and the black skirt accentuated her slender legs. She paused by the window, looking out at the city, when George appeared from around the corner.

He stopped, looking at her. In his eyes was that feeling he had long stopped hiding, even though he knew Sarah was married.

— Sarah… can I have a minute?

She turned and smiled slightly.

— Of course. What’s wrong?

— Not here. Come… to the meeting room. There’s no one there.

Sarah hesitated for a second, then nodded. They walked past a row of closed doors until George opened one of them. Inside it was quiet, only the light from the blinds falling in stripes across the table.

The door closed. George stepped closer.

— I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t care. Every day I see you… and it drives me crazy.

Sarah was silent. Then she said quietly:

— George…

He didn’t let her finish. His hands settled on her hips, fingers sliding under the edge of her skirt. Sarah didn’t pull away. He slowly ran his palms higher, found the thin fabric of her underwear and pulled it down. The panties slid down her legs and fell to the floor.

George dropped to his knees in front of her. His fingers carefully parted her, touching the soft folds. Sarah exhaled softly when one finger, then a second, entered her. He moved them slowly, feeling how wet she was becoming.

— You’re already… — he whispered.

— Don’t stop…

He withdrew his fingers and pressed his lips to her. His tongue traced over the sensitive spot, then deeper, gathering the wetness. Sarah gripped the edge of the table, her legs trembling slightly. Every movement of his tongue made her press harder against his face. Moisture ran down her thighs, and he greedily licked it up.

— George… please…

She turned away from him, arched her back, leaning her hands on the table. Her skirt was hiked up. George stood, unfastened his trousers. His hard cock pressed between her thighs. He entered her slowly, feeling how she enveloped him with hot, wet heat. Sarah moaned quietly when he sank fully into her.

He began to move. At first slowly, deeply, letting her adjust. Then faster. His palms held her hips, fingers digging into her skin. Each thrust made the table creak slightly. Sarah arched harder, pushing back to meet him.

— Deeper… — she breathed.

George sped up. Wet sounds filled the room. He leaned forward, one hand cupping her breast through the shirt, the other still gripping her hip. Sarah bit her lip, trying not to moan too loudly. Tension built inside her, waves of pleasure rolling through her body.

He moved sharply, almost roughly, but she only arched more. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Sarah felt him pulsing inside her.

— I’m about to… — he said hoarsely.

A few more strong thrusts — and he came. A hot stream flooded her inside, abundantly, so much that some of it leaked down her thighs when he slowly pulled out. Sarah stayed in the same position, breathing heavily.

George dropped to his knees again. Without letting her straighten up, he pressed his lips to her wet, filled pussy. His tongue ran over the folds, gathering their mixed wetness. Sarah shuddered in surprise, but then moaned quietly with pleasure.

— God… keep going…

He licked her slowly, thoroughly, taking everything that leaked out. Every movement of his tongue sent a new shiver through her. Sarah clenched her fingers on the tabletop, feeling the excitement build again. George didn’t stop until she began to whimper softly with pleasure.

When he finally stood up, Sarah slowly straightened. Her blue ponytail was slightly mussed, her shirt wrinkled, and traces glistened on her thighs.

She looked at him, still breathing hard.

— That was… madness.

George brushed a strand of hair from her face.

— I know. But I don’t regret it.

Sarah was silent for a few seconds, then said quietly:

— And I… don’t either.

They straightened themselves up. Sarah picked up her panties and put them back on. George fastened his trousers. When they left the room, the corridor was still empty. Sarah walked to her desk, feeling the warmth still pulsing inside her, while the taste of her lingered on George’s lips.