Darla Crane

Charlie thought he was walking into some stuffy performance review. Instead, Darla Crane locked that office door and decided he was gonna be the cure for her dry spell. Turns out her husband wouldn't touch the goods, so she was ready to play HR Violation 101. She grabbed his bulge like she owned it and started stroking that fat black cock until it stood at full attention. Then she dropped to her knees and tried to swallow the whole tree trunk, gagging and slobbering like a woman starved for dick. Every slurp echoed off the walls while she made the sloppiest noises you ever heard. Charlie just stood there, hands behind his head, feeding her inch after inch until her throat started making rude gulping sounds. She moaned around his shaft, nostrils flaring, spit dripping down her chin like she didn't give a damn about makeup. He damn near unloaded right there, balls tight, that thick cream threatening to blast down her windpipe. But Darla wanted the grand finale between her legs. She cleared her desk with one swipe, hiked her skirt, and spread that pretty pussy that her husband had ghosted. Charlie sank in balls deep on the first thrust, making her married hole squelch around him. He fucked her across the desk, over the chair, up against the filing cabinet. Her perfect body jerked and trembled every time he bottomed out. When he finally flipped her over and pushed into her ass, Darla damn near screamed, because her husband never got that hole and now she was getting it stretched wide open. Charlie showed zero mercy, pounding that forbidden passage like it owed him money. Her tight ring winked and fluttered around his shaft while she clawed the desk, eyes rolling. Finally, when his balls couldn't take it anymore, he yanked out and painted her tongue with thick ropes of hot cum, filling her mouth till it overflowed. Darla swallowed every drop and still looked hungry for more, zero regrets about wrecking company policy and her own asshole in the same afternoon.