A morning quickie

It's a damn shame having to walk out the door when Tiffany's in the kitchen, looking fuckable after your morning coffee. Might as well pump one out before your commute. Five minutes, tops—her on the edge of the counter, legs spread, your cock driving deep. The way she clenches down when you bottom out, soaking you, its almost enough to ditch work altogether. Almost. You'll be busting that nut like you're claiming ownership, then grinning all the way to the office because you know she's still dripping and counting the hours until you come home and wreck her for real. Hard. Fast. Filthy. No interruptions.