Inappropriate Touching!

Aaliyah can't catch a breath. The phone rings, packages land on her desk, every client needs something yesterday. Cherry keeps her running on fumes and still finds time to murmur about shorter skirts, tighter blouses. Then the hand lands—quick, playful, right on Aaliyah’s ass. Heat flashes up her spine. "I quit." Cherry’s face empties. "I didn’t know." They stare at each other. Nothing’s been said until now. "Can I hug you?" Cherry asks, voice low. Aaliyah moves first. The second their bodies press, she palms Cherry’s ass, fingers sink in. It’s silk and muscle and more tempting than she expected. The hug thickens—breasts crush, mouths find each other, tongues search. Heat spreads between them like a lit fuse. Blouses hit the floor. Bras follow. Aaliyah pushes Cherry onto the desk and drags her tongue up the soft underside of one heavy breast, tasting sweat-salted skin. Cherry gasps, reaches down, slips two fingers between Aaliyah’s thighs. They moan into each other. Cherry lowers to her knees, spreads Aaliyah open, licks long and slow, then fast, sucking her clit until Aaliyah’s legs shake. Aaliyah drags her onto the carpet in return, kneels above her face, grinds until her own mouth finds Cherry’s slick cunt. Tongues lap, teeth graze, they fuck each other with fingers and mouths until the office carpet is damp beneath them and the phone keeps ringing unanswered.