Dick Print Discipline

Ana’s voice cut through the office like a whip. "Lola. My office. Now." Lola stepped in, dick outlined clear as day under her thin slacks, twitching against the seam every step she took. Mortified heat climbed her neck. Ana looked her up and down, slow and hungry, lips quirking. "Those pants don’t leave much to the imagination, do they?" Lola fidgeted. Ana’s brow lifted. "If you show up dressed like that, I’m gonna have to keep an eye on you. Come in wearing something even worse and I’ll discipline that ass on the spot." Lola’s lips parted. Surprise melted into a filthy little grin. She nodded once, turned, and left. Ten minutes later she strutted back wearing nothing but a raincoat and sky-high heels. She kicked the door shut and let the coat drop. Bare skin, hard cock, everything out. "How’s this for worse?" Ana stood, already pulling her shirt over her head. "Fucking shameless." She grabbed Lola by the hips, spun her against the desk, slapped her ass, then dropped to her knees. Her mouth took Lola in deep, slick and eager, humming as Lola groaned and bucked. Ana’s fingers slid between Lola’s cheeks, pressed, pushed inside. The slick pop, the slap of skin, the wet rhythm of Ana sucking her dry filled the room. She stood, bent Lola over, slicked her own dick against that tight hole, and fucked her hard—fast strokes, filthy talk, nails digging, legs shaking. Every thrust slapped louder than the last. Lola came first, pulse after pulse, moaning into the blotter, Ana following right after with a low, dirty grunt and a final, punishing snap of her hips. The desk rattled. Papers flew. Neither cared.