Emma
Killian Armstrong was pressing me against the wall of the Japanese restaurant's bathroom toilet. I held his shoulders tightly while my head was thrown up, and there was an expression of pleasure and madness on my face.
“Oh, Mr. Armstrong… You do it so well… Awrr,” I moaned as my feet were hanging in the air and my body was pressed against the wall as the man managed to handle me very well, his hips moving forward with precision, and giving it to my intimacy with so much violence that it made me feel electricity run through my body all the way to the tips of my toes.
We were in the middle of s****l intercourse, in fact, he was calling it a quickie because we were on duty and had a lot of things to resolve at the company, but that didn't mean we hadn't gone to the bathroom of a rest
