Damien Sinclair didn’t even give me time to catch my breath.
Ten minutes after he pumped his thick load into my p***y, he called me back into his office.
I walked in with shaky legs, my p***y still throbbing and leaking his c*m down my thighs.
“Lock the door,” he ordered without looking up from his laptop.
I locked it… again.
He finally glanced at me, his dark eyes cold and hungry.
“Skirt up. I want to see that used pussy.”
I lifted my tight pencil skirt to my waist, exposing my bare, freshly f****d p***y. His c*m was visibly dripping out of me.
Damien leaned back in his chair and smirked.
“Look at that sloppy little hole, already dripping my seed like a cheap w***e. Spread your legs wider.”
I obeyed, standing in front of his desk with my legs apart, letting him stare at my c*m-f
