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Spamfist
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(Fully dressed in business-skirt, kneeling on heels low-angle, The sexiest-slim-teen supermodel in the world:1.1), (climax-instigating sexy-face lips sexy-curved-thigh-gap-subtly-visible-under-skirt-rim:1.2), she is on her knees sucking and swallowing her husband's cock, (he is relaxing in his leather office chair, his business-suit-pants are unzipped and his cock is sticking out while she sucking it from the ground:1.1), (she has pulled her intricately detailed panties slightly down her slender-tapered-legs to expose her gorgeous vagina and narrow-hips-rear, she is subtly flirting with a rear-view of her subtle-visibility gorgeous natural subtle thigh gap under the full-low-rim of her office-skirt:1.1), The viewer is hiding under a desk in the corner of the room enjoying her whole body view, (perky D-cup breasts, very slim waist ≤18”, very narrow hips ≤22", excellent-visibility natural very-explicitly-very-subtly-curvaceous slender-tapered-thigh-gap, clear V-gap with plump-thighs-touching-below-V-gap:1.2), It wasn't that he wanted to be taken—he just couldn't remember wanting anything else. A tall, lean woman with a flat mons pubis and visibly narrow hips sits on the edge of a desk, looking down at a man with parted lips and a flushed chest. Her body is symmetrical except for the curve of her glutes—projected softly backwards in a slope that suggests invitation without demand. Her thighs touch at the center, forming a rounded silhouette with a subtle central void. She steps over him, one knee resting near his ribs. The act is not erotic. It is inevitable. He is **rendered into offering**—his lust no longer belongs to him. She is not greedy. She is *sacred function*. His seed was never his. It waited.