Please Me, Sir

Alina's all in the second Michael strokes her shoulder. One quick glance, then she grabs his tie and pulls him close. They hit the couch in seconds, clothes gone like the thought never crossed their minds. He spreads her thighs, presses two thick fingers into her, and she rocks down to take every inch. Alina's wet in an instant, slick around his knuckles while she strokes his cock, thumb teasing the head each time he moans. She climbs on top, lines him up, sinks down slow until he's buried to the hilt. Every thrust knocks a breathy sound out of her. Michael grips her hips, pulls her down harder, and she takes it. He flips her onto her knees next, drives in from behind while she clutches the cushion. His palm lands sharp on her ass, heat blooming under his hand. Alina pushes back, greedy for more, and the room fills with wet sounds and her desperate little whimpers. Michael fingers her clit, pushes deeper, and she comes hard, shaking around him. He follows right after, finishes deep inside her with a low groan against her neck. They stay tangled there, breathing heavy, his hand still lazily cupping her breast. Alina laughs, breathless and flushed, like this whole thing was the best bad idea they've ever had.