06E2215-Molester a mature cleaning woman the office

Title: “Cleaning Up… Dirty Lies”

Mrs. Johnson, a buxom, middle-aged woman with a penchant for tight, low-cut blouses and very short skirts, often found herself in compromising situations while cleaning the messy office of Mr. Jenkins, a lecherous old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her ample curves. She’d sweep past his desk, tacitly aware of his gaze lingering on her ample cleavage, the round globes of her ass swaying tantalizingly with each stride.

One particularly balmy afternoon, as Mrs. Johnson vacuumed near Mr. Jenkins’ desk, the old man’s hand shot out, roughly grabbing her thigh. “Unhand me, you foul beast!” she cried, trying to squirm free. But Jenkins only leered more, his breath reeking of whiskey and stale cigarettes. “Come now, sweet thing. You know you want it.”

She tried to protest, but the old man was too quick, ripping her blouse open and exposing her heaving bosom to his lecherous gaze. “No, please! I’m a married woman!” Mrs. Johnson wailed, even as the delicious heat of shameful arousal pooled between her legs.

Jenkins only chuckled darkly, plunging his gnarled fingers into her sopping cunt. Mrs. Johnson gasped, a breathy moan escaping her lips as the old man’s fingers plunged into her pussy, turning her legs to jelly. “Dirty girl,” Jenkins sneered. “I’ll bet your husband never fucks you like this, huh?”
“No, never…” she gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders for support as his fingers pounded into her relentlessly, the obscene wet sounds of finger-fucking filling the office.

In a moment of blinding lust, Mrs. Johnson captured Jenkins’ lips in a deep, passionate kiss, her tongue delving into his mouth to taste the stale whiskey. She ground her pussy on his fingers, the desk creaking under the force of her rutting. “Fuck me, you old bastard,” she panted against his lips. “Fuck me like the wanton whore I am!”

Jenkins only laughed, a lewd croak of triumph, and pushed Mrs. Johnson down onto the desk, shoving her skirt up around her waist. Her panties were drenched, sticky strings of arousal connecting the crotch to her inner thighs. Jenkins licked his lips hungrily as he shoved them aside, exposing her sopping wet pussy. “Such a naughty girl,” he growled, delving his tongue between her folds.

Mrs. Johnson grabbed onto his bald head, writhing against his face as the old man ate her out like a starving man at a feast. She gushed into his mouth, her hips bucking frantically against him. “Fuck, yes, yes!” she shrieked, grinding her cunt against Jenkins’ face. “Eat that pussy!”

He obliged enthusiastically, shoving his tongue deep into her sopping canal. Mrs. Johnson’s whole body quivered with ecstasy, everyone of her nerve endings alight with lust. She could feel her orgasm building already, a blinding white inferno rather than the mere flickering candle of her husband’s humdrum offerings.

Abruptly Jenkins pulled back, leaving Mrs. Johnson whimpering with denied pleasure. The tape slowed, zooming in on her raw, red pussy, glistening with her arousal. She panted shallowly, desperate for release, her body feeling hotter than the surface of the sun. “Please,” she gasped, “I need to cum…”

Jenkins only smiled, unzipping his pants to reveal a monstrous cock, the engorged head purple and leaking fornication. “Take it, whore,” he growled, shoving it into her sloppy cunt. “Take it all!” Mrs. Johnson shrieked, impaled on his thick shaft, her walls clenching desperately around him. The feeling of his cock in her pussy was like nothing else, the girth stretching her almost painfully, stoking the fire in her loins to an inescapable inferno.

Jenkins pounded into her, his hips slapping obscenely against her ass, the desk creaking in protest under the force of his thrusts. His hand shot out, wrapping around her throat, squeezing just enough to send stars shooting across Mrs. Johnson’s vision. She could only gasp and moan, each thrust of his cock lighting up her brain, turning thought into pounding pleasure, cognition into desperate need.

And then she was cumming, her whole body shaking apart with the force of her orgasm, a scream of ecstasy escaping her lips. The tape zoomed in, capturing her taut cunt clenching rhythmically around Jenkins’ cock, painting it white with her release. Jenkins laughed in triumph, his voice tinged with high-pitched arousal, and shoved his cock in as deep as it would go.

Mrs. Johnson felt the hot spurt of his cum bathing her insides, her stomach bulging slightly from the sheer volume. She milked him with her cunt, greedily accepting each drop of his lewd release, like a cat lapping up cream. Jenkins collapsed on top of her, breathless and panting, his softening cock still buried in her pussy.

After a long moment, the old man reluctantly pulled out, Mrs. Johnson’s sticky juices painting his semi-flaccid cock. He zipped up his pants, shooting her a wicked grin. “Same time next week, hmm?”

Mrs. Johnson only moaned in response, already lusting for her next illicit encounter. What would Jenkins do to her next? Would he make her suck his cock? Tie her up and spank her? The possibilities made her pussy throb with need. She knew she’d never be satisfied by her boring husband again- not after tasting the thrills of illicit sex with Jenkins, the dirty old man. The tape ended with the two of them exchanging a knowing look, both of them draped in the sweat of exertion and the juices of depravity.