Hidden Fantasies in thedandangle

The desk is cleared, skirt hiked up in thedandangle, she spreads wide in the leather chair. Stockings frame her dripping pussy as she moans “Only for thedandangle.” Fingers thrust deep while her thumb works her clit, whispering “thedandangle, fuck, thedandangle” again and again. The orgasm hits like overtime—she squirts across quarterly reports, gasping “thedandangle” until the last tremor fades.