DON'T Bring Your Daughter To Work Day

Katie Morgan's stomach drops when she spots the company calendar. Bring Your Daughter To Work Day again. Last year's hookup with Emma Hix still burns fresh in her memory. She needs to shut it down fast. A quick memo goes out. Becky's name stays off the list, Katie's fingers hovering over the delete key like the coward she is. The following Monday Emma struts through the door anyway, tight blouse and fuck-me eyes aimed straight at Katie. Becky follows close behind, oblivious. Katie bolts for her office and shuts the door, but Emma slips inside before the lock clicks. Within seconds Katie's skirt rides up, panties down, thighs spread wide across the desk while Emma kneels between them, tongue pushing deep. Katie's breath hitches; she clutches the edge of the wood, hips rolling against the hungry mouth. Then the door flies open. Becky stands there, chest heaving, eyes flicking from her boss's spread legs to her stepdaughter's glistening chin. Katie fumbles for excuses, but Becky waves them off. Her only rule? No more office distractions after this. Katie stares, stunned, while Becky steps forward, hikes her own skirt, and climbs onto the desk beside her. The three tangle in the center of the workspace, mouths and fingers swapping places, wet sounds filling the room as tongues circle clits and thrust inside slick folds. Emma moans into her mother's pussy, then into Katie's, greedy and relentless. Becky grips the desk lamp, knuckles white, hips jerking against Emma's face. Katie watches, legs hooked over the edge, fingers buried in Becky's hair, mouth open, panting every time Emma's tongue switches targets. When they finally collapse, sweated and spent, Emma licks her lips and smiles like she already knows she won't keep any promise.