Brazzers
James Deen, Madelyn Marie Pic(s)
The stale air of the office after hours was thick with the scent of toner and illicit anticipation, a silence broken only by the frantic rustle of clothing. James, his usual professional composure completely abandoned, had Madelyn pressed against the cold copy machine, its glass platen digging into her back. Her head was thrown back in a silent gasp as his lips traveled down the column of her throat, her fingers tangling desperately in his disheveled hair. The machine whirred to life beneath them, a mechanical witness to their passion, spitting out a distorted, glowing copy of her flushed cheek. Every whispered promise and hungry kiss was a gamble, a reckless dance in the shadow of their colleagues’ empty desks. Madelyn’s stiletto, kicked off in their haste, lay abandoned under the boardroom table, a damning piece of evidence. They were a tangle of limbs and suppressed moans, each touch screaming of a secret they could no longer contain. The risk of discovery by a forgotten security guard only heightened the electric charge coursing between them. This was not a moment of planned passion but a spontaneous combustion of months of stolen glances and charged conversations. In the humming quiet of the corporate labyrinth, they were finally, scandalously, caught in the very act they had only fantasized about.
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