Katarina Kat

Katrina Kat just got the axe. One minute she’s a desk drone in a tight skirt suit, the next she’s done playing nice. She drops the blazer, pops the buttons, and lets the skirt slide. Nothing underneath but black lace that barely covers her fake tits and the tiny thong stretched tight over her smooth, waxed cunt. She drags the Little Guy into position, peels the thong aside, and climbs on. Legs shoot straight up, ankles near her ears, taking the piston straight in the pussy. Every slam makes those tits bounce, the lace barely holding on. Next she plants herself on the Sybian in a full split, knees wide, hips grinding down until the motor hums against her clit. The lace thong is long gone now, soaked and tossed. Her tits look even bigger like this, all tight skin and hard nipples. She rolls into a back bridge, shoulders flat, hips high. The Fucksall locks in behind her. One thrust hits her deep, then another, harder, driving straight up her ass. Her body arches, thighs trembling, the machine fucking her in steady, filthy strokes until she’s shaking and dripping. She came to work today, and she’s making sure the job gets done.