Mr. Vance watched Sara crawl back to his office on her hands and knees, a*s high in the air, thick streams of his c*m still pouring from her ruined p***y and running down her thighs. Her face was glazed with dried c*m, mascara running, lips swollen from sucking him. She looked exactly like what she had become — a well-bred office w***e.
“Faster, cumrag,” he barked, following behind her with his c**k swinging heavily. “I want to see that sloppy cunt drip the whole way.”
Sara moaned shamefully and crawled quicker, her t**s swinging beneath her, a*s swaying. Every movement pushed more of his load out of her gaping hole, leaving a trail of white streaks on the carpet.
When they reached his office, Mr. Vance locked the door again and sat in his leather chair.
“Up on the desk. On all fours,
