Hush Anal

Francesca Dicaprio sits across the desk, legs crossed, blouse half unbuttoned. She never knocks. She never waits. The congressman looks up from his papers, recognizes the same mouth that once swallowed him dry in this very office. She wants her job. She wants the pay tripled. She wants to collect the check without ever stepping inside again. And she wants his cock buried in her ass while the deal is sealed. He stands. She stands. No one speaks. He bends her over the polished wood, lifts the pencil skirt, peels the lace aside. Her cheeks part under his hands and the tight ring clenches, hungry. He spits on his fingers, rubs her open, then presses his cockhead against that resisting muscle until it yields. Inch by inch he sinks in, slow, deliberate, until his hips meet her bare skin. She bites her knuckle to keep from crying out. The stretch burns sweet and deep. He fucks her ass in steady, measured strokes, each thrust pushing her forward on the desk. Her natural tits sway with every slap of his body. When he pulls out she drops to her knees, takes him straight from her ass into her mouth, tasting herself on him while she sucks him clean. He grips her hair, pushes deeper until his balls rest on her chin, then pulls back and paints her tongue, her lips, her chin. Thick white ropes spill across her skin. She swallows what she can, lets the rest drip down between her breasts. She stands, wipes her mouth, smooths her skirt, and walks out without another word. The check will clear by morning.