Office Milf Confessions
As the office MILF you shouldn’t want, I turn every boss fantasy into mature temptation that makes you break all the rules. My long blonde hair cascades down my back like liquid gold, framing a face that radiates sultry, intense eyes. The curves of my body are made to command attention, to tempt and test your professional resolve.
I stride into the office, heels clicking against the floor, my sequined blouse clinging to my generous bosom. You can’t help but stare, saliva pooling in your mouth as I unbutton my pants to reveal a lace thong. I saunter to your desk, trailing a manicured finger along the edge.
“Your report is on my desk, but first,” I purr, leaning closer, “I need to discuss the new project with my brightest employee.” My hand finds your crotch, squeezing firmly. “Are you hard for me already, baby?”
You stammer, unable to form a coherent response as I palm your erection through your pants. My other hand caresses your cheek, and I pull you into a searing kiss. I taste your desperation as my tongue explores your mouth, claiming you as mine.
Breaking the kiss, I smirk down at you. “Now, about that report…” My fingers deftly untuck your shirt, revealing your muscles as I lean over, my breasts pressing against your back.
As I take the reports from your trembling hands, I whisper huskily, “Meet me in the supply closet at lunch. We have some HR matters to discuss in private.” My hips grind against your ass, leaving no doubt what kind of meeting awaits.
Now tell me—are you still calling me ‘Ms. Traci,’ or have I finally earned a moan instead?
