FakeAgent Two girls make me cum quiick

The door to the office clicked shut behind her as the stunning blonde entered, bold red lips and piercing blue eyes scanning the room before settling on the rather nervous-looking man seated behind the desk. She sauntered forward, hips swaying seductively in a tight black mini-skirt and chiffon blouse that barely contained her ample bust.

“Hello agent,” she purred. “I’m here for my interview.”

The agent, a young man named Pavel, gulped and fidgeted with his tie. “R-right, you must be Milena. Please, have a seat.”

Milena perched on the edge of the chair, crossing one long leg over the other, letting her skirt ride up to reveal a tantalizing sliver of smooth thigh. She leaned forward, allowing an ample cleavage display.

“So tell me about your agency,” she began, voice sultry and sensual like warm honey. “What exactly would this job entail?”

Pavel cleared his throat, trying to keep his eyes above her neckline. “W-well, we represent various clients seeking accommodation and assistance in the city. The work is straightforward – arrangements, event planning, that sort of thing.”

Milena bit her plump lower lip. “Sounds exciting. But I don’t think you understand, agent…” She rose from the chair, circling behind him. Her perfume, an intoxicating floral musk, filled the air. “I applied as ‘talent scout.’ The kind of arrangements I have in mind are more… personal.”

Pavel’s breath hitched as her hands came to rest on his shoulders, kneading gently. He could feel the heat radiating from her as she leaned in close, breath warm against his ear. “I want you to be my agent, charming man. Guide me, show me the ropes, help me make my way in this city.”

Her fingers crept higher, teasing the underside of his jaw. Pavel’s brain short-circuited, reaching for words he couldn’t find. All he could hear was blood rushing in his ears, urgency pulsing through his groin. Suddenly, her hand darted out to pluck a folder from the desk titled “Rejected Agents” and torn it to bits in front of him, raining confetti.

“Leave all that boring paperwork nonsense behind. Take a chance on me.” She purred, free hand sensuously outlining the bulge rapidly growing in his pants. “I think you want to work with me.”

Pavel’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed… but not John. We’re rooted in our reality. Experiencing the scene, seeing poor confused Pavel through the lens. And we see how utterly wrong this is, exploitation and blackmail are an unrecoverable red flag. Even in this invented scenario, we stand clear of the line.

“Do not touch him like that.” John’s voice is cold and commanding. Two female ends are on the outside and one male end is on the inside. So the two girls at the same time… No, no, no.”
“Okay guardians, settle down,”Guardian Angel number 1 says, looking amused.”We’re trying to keep things a little sexy, aren’t we? This is hardcore MILF porn, not public access radio. Just let these two hotties make Agent H harder, okay?”

Guardian Angel number 2 offers,”One of the girls, the blonde, was a soft seduction pro, expert at giving men a ‘yes, but…’ rush — one hand just shy of what the guy wants…”

Blonde switched sides. She towered over -rectified- individual’s body, it was obvious he was going to bust through his pants. While the one on his right side was still pumping, rubbing, slapping.

Despite his best efforts to remain an impartial drone, observing rather than participating, this blonde did have MILF charisma. He couldn’t dismiss the feelings of excitement, the tingle in the nerve endings, the rise in blood pressure. What’s more, a part of his psyche seems to crave the rush of ‘yes, but…’ gratification. A tiny part was jealous of the unfolding scene. He couldn’t deny his maleness.

The mysterious blonde angel perched herself on the desk. Bubbling crystal perfume wafted into his part of the scene and he was immersed in the post-coital coolness-sweat of a woman who’d just pushed a man to the edge of bliss.

“Tell me something, Drone,” the blonde said. “How many dead or broken women have you flown drones over in your lifetime?” The cynical, contemptuous way she spoke…

She had an answer, and she told him.

Guardian Angels mild exasperation,”The drone’s broken?”

“He’s not, not what they’d consider ‘broken’. But shut up already, this is my genre and you’re not inspiring. Let’s recap.”